10

10

STACEY

Kyle: Was that Kade Mitchell?

Kyle: Wait… Am I losing my mind right now? Are you hanging out with theTobias Mitchell’s kids? Is Lucy Luciella? The twin?

Kyle: I know I’m being the overbearing big brother here, but do you know who he is? Have the twins given you fake names? Shit. Do you remember our emergency code if you need me to come and get you?

I lie in the small double bed, reading each text. Attached in his next message, he sends news articles dated from when Tobias Mitchell was arrested. Psychotic killer ordered to live out his life sentence in an institution. One of them has a picture of Kade and Lu as kids, smiling with their dad in an artificial park within his institution in America.

Legendary Tobias Mitchell finally granted visitation with his children.

There are related articles at the bottom of the page, and I click on the one about Aria. Doctor Miller finally finds true love with a former flame. But what does Tobias think? Somehow, they got a hold of their wedding photo, where the twins are around seven years old. Lu has a huge grin, Kade is scowling and their big brother Jason, who is eleven years older, has his hands on their shoulders.

I remember I used to think he was a son of Tobias too, but he looks like Ewan. Aria isn’t his mum, but she treats him the same as she does Kade and Lu, especially since his biological mother overdosed a few years ago.

He’s been a ghost to the family for a while now.

The last article I read is from two months ago – Kade with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, leaving a nightclub in London with a girl on his arm. They call the brunette brave then go into detail about the pair sharing a hotel room, which she left a few hours later with messy hair.

I close the browser.

Kyle sends another message, asking if this is a code red.

I’ve only been able to read his texts. When we were in the car, my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing, and the last thing I wanted to do was discuss Kade with my stepbrother while sitting in the passenger seat.

It was awkward when he first picked me up because I had no idea what to say, especially after what happened in the studio, but I grew less anxious when no rude comments came from him. It was a comfortable silence I’ve had many times with that side of him.

Well, the version I had to myself for nearly a year. The version that held my hand under the covers and smiled at me when no one was looking. Kissed me in the pool house. In the car. In random hotel rooms all over the world while we watched The Greatest Showman for the billionth time.

The version I’ve missed every day since he walked out of my life – and I let him.

That side of him quickly shrank back into its shell when he tossed his bag into our room and stormed off, muttering a fuck’s sake under his breath hours ago. I’d sat on the small bed, kicked off my shoes and pulled the duvet over me, and I’ve been here ever since.

He’s back to his usual dickish self. I won’t be surprised if he’s drunk in the bar downstairs or in a taxi on his way to a random girl’s house.

Should I text him and ask if he wants to grab food, or will he tell me to go fuck myself?

On cue, my phone dings, and my heart stops, thinking it’s him. But it’s Kyle sending a question mark.

I forgot to reply. No doubt he’s sweating and pacing the floor, worrying about my safety. He really is the total opposite of his younger brother.

Me: Sorry. My phone was on silent! I’m okay. Promise me you won’t tell Nora or Chris who they are. I don’t want them freaking out. But yes, they are his kids.

A few minutes pass, then my screen lights up once more.

Kyle: Fucking hell. Yeah, sound – I won’t say anything. What are they like? Cool? Dickheads? Do they boast about who their dad is? I read something about Kade being exactly like that psycho. Did you see the article on him when he was 12? It says he has death in his eyes. The fuck does that even mean? Oh shit, I don’t think I want to know, but you aren’t dating him, are you?

I sigh, shaking my head. Some of these articles are ridiculous. If these reporters knew the side of Kade I did, they’d never say those things about him. Regardless of how he acts now.

Tobias struggled with every emotion and had no idea how to control them. Whereas his son can feel them to some extent, can certainly show them when he’s comfortable enough and doesn’t go on a killing spree when things don’t go his way.

I reread the last part of Kyle’s text, narrowing my eyes. I’m not about to tell him that Kade is my ex or that we have a heavy history that could write an entire book.

I’m not going to tell him that one time, while he was knocking on my room door to see if I needed anything from the shop, Kade had me pinned to the floor with his hand wrapped around my throat, tight enough to nearly cut off my oxygen supply while roughly fucking me.

No. I definitely won’t tell him that.

Another message, and I huff.

Kyle: I’m uncomfortable with the delayed response. I wish to retract my question.

Me: Shut up. I’m not dating him. And they’re normal people.

Kyle: Okay. Cool. I thought your flight was hours ago? How do you have a signal?

Me: I missed it. I need to stay in a hotel until tomorrow.

Kyle: With the psychopath’s son? Damn.

Kyle: Remember… orange emoji with your location and I’ll be there.

I send him an okay, and he goes offline. I’ve blocked Chris thankfully. When the first string of abusive messages came in as soon as I sat in the car, I made sure he couldn’t contact me for the remainder of the trip. My body still aches from his violent “lesson” last night. I don’t think the bruises and cuts are too noticeable, but I used a thick concealer to cover them up, just in case.

Is it bad that I welcome his fists? If he didn’t hurt me that way, he might resort to sexual attacks, and I’ll die before I allow that.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, but I didn’t sleep much last night. I yawn, stretch under the covers and quickly text Kade to tell him I’m going for a nap. He reads it, and when ten minutes pass without a response, I sigh and put my phone on charge. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out.

It’s been hours since I woke up and there’s still no sign of Kade. TV is boring, social media is dead, and I keep rereading the same line of a rom-com book and failing to register the words. It’s late, the light from a lamppost shines through the window, rain pelting the glass, and I’m in dire need of a cold can of juice.

I’m starving too. I think the entire hotel can hear every time my stomach growls at me to feed it. But my laziness has so far won, and I’ve settled on the bottle of water from the mini fridge.

Did I go through his things hunting for a snack and settle on stealing his crisps? Yes. Yes, I did.

Luciella called. They landed an hour ago. She said she was close to punching Base in the face and sending him home. She didn’t appreciate him suggesting a quickie to get them both in the mile-high club. She hung up on me when I started laughing.

A beep sounds from the door, and it swings open, banging off the wall. I shouldn’t flinch – I don’t mean to – but my heart races momentarily and I pull the duvet to my chest as if Chris is about to fly in and smash his fist into my face.

Kade pauses in the threshold as if he’s forgotten I’m here, his brow raised at my scared expression, before he slowly closes the door.

I let my grip on the covers go and pretend to read my book, refusing to acknowledge his presence. But the energy changes when he’s near – if I couldn’t read before, I definitely can’t now.

I keep the book open anyway and watch him over the top of it.

He tosses his car keys on the hotel dresser, shrugs out of his jacket and drops it on the little chair on the way to the bathroom.

Hello to you too, asshole.

His phone dings on the dresser once, twice, a thousand bloody times. I ignore it as the news reporter on the TV announces a horrific death in the centre of Edinburgh. I glance up at the screen as she stands with a microphone in the rain, explaining that the body of a man was found decapitated in the middle of Holyrood Park a few hours ago. A harrowing murder in broad daylight.

“Woah,” I blurt. I turn the volume up, my book forgotten as it slides off my lap, and shift to the foot of the bed, watching the footage of police officers cordoning off the area. Another view comes from a helicopter hovering over the park.

“Did you see this?” I call out to Kade, but of course, he doesn’t answer me. “This is so close to us.”

They’re still looking for the attacker – someone tall, strong and wearing a black balaclava. No evidence has yet been found except for a snippet of CCTV but they have no way of identifying the perpetrator. The officers are on foot and in vehicles, hunting for the person who did it.

I could never take another person’s life, despite what I’ve sometimes thought about doing to Chris. The idea alone makes me tremble and pull myself back into bed. I mute the reporter, trying to refocus on my book. Maria – the main character – is going on a blind date and hoping to end her three-year dry spell.

My one-night stand with Bryan-or-Byron was the last time I had sex, and quite frankly, I can’t say it was memorable. To be fair, I haven’t heard a peep from him either, so I guess we’re mutual on it being a one-time thing.

I can’t risk touching myself at home with Chris under the same roof. Maybe my need for pleasure explains why things went as far as they did at the studio. It explains where I got the balls to even make the first move, considering my nerves were all over the place just from having Kade’s hands on me.

Is it normal to hate him and want to feel him inside me?

Is it normal to wake up sweating and seconds from orgasming from memories alone?

Probably not.

If the girls hadn’t shown up early for class last night, I strongly believe Kade and I would’ve ended up on the studio floor again. It’s still there – the tension that cripples me, the pull towards him that has me internally screaming. All the feelings I’ve locked away. Each time my eyes land on his, I want him. But I also want to slap him hard enough to hurt him.

The bathroom door opens and closes, and I glance up. “Did you eat?” I ask, my voice cracking at the end when I see he’s only in a pair of boxers.

Holy mother of God.

I grab my book and hold it tight in my grip as I let my gaze fall down his body.

He was lean before, but now? He’s huge. I let my eyes take in his powerful back, muscles upon muscles bunching as he pulls things out of his bag. His arms look different without a top on, like he could crush my skull with his bare hands. My lungs give up when he straightens and turns to me, flashing his abs, chest, that perfect V of muscle and happy trail.

Dark tattoos litter his tanned skin – ones he didn’t have before that cover older ones that had meaning for me. There are snakes. A lot of snakes. An hourglass with clock hands behind it covering what used to be a blooming rose he’d had done for me over his heart.

Despite that, he’s a work of art – he always has been, but the Kade I once rolled around in bed with and laughed with while watching our usual movie is even hotter than before.

“Yeah.”

And his legs? They could suffocate someone with their size. He has designs wrapping around one and distorted animals on the other. The ink vanishes up into his boxers, and I wonder if he has his—

“You done?”

My eyes quickly fall to my book, a blush creeping up my neck to my cheeks. “I was daydreaming. Don’t get any ideas that I’d waste my eyesight on you. And you can sleep on the floor.”

I can feel his anger. If he can talk to me like shit on the bottom of his shoe, I can do the same to him.

“Why would I?”

“Because I hate you,” I reply, deadpan. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

He knows I don’t mean it.

He chuckles, pulling on grey cotton shorts and grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. “For the record,” he starts, pausing as he starts brushing his teeth, “I’d rather set my balls on fire than share a bed with you.”

“Charming. Is that how you usually get the ladies into bed?”

“Nope. It comes naturally,” he says around the toothbrush. “You of all people should know the tricks of getting into people’s beds. What was it Tylar said? You’ve had plenty of practice lately.”

“Plenty.” I flip a page and fail to hold in my anger when I look up at him. “I’m seconds from smacking you, Kade. Either get into bed or fuck off.”

“This angry side of you doesn’t work. You’re as scary as a puppy.”

I scoff.

He washes his face, turns off the bathroom light then crosses his arms at the foot of the bed. After a few seconds, I feel his gaze on me, my skin heating as I attempt to not look back. “Problem?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on my book.

I flip three pages instead of one – completely unfocused.

“If I get in, do you promise not to grab my cock again?”

My gaze flies to him in horror as he walks to the other side and lowers himself onto the bed beside me.

“I need to answer work emails, and the last thing I need is an unwanted hard-on like last night.”

An aggravated groan is pulled from my throat as my eyes return to the book. He can claim it was unwanted all he wants, but I felt how hard he was and had his heavy breaths on my neck. He was all over my boob, for crying out loud. Nope, fuck him. He can have my silence, if only to keep him from issuing any more insults.

I swallow when he gets comfortable beside me. My silk shirt is buttoned to my neck, but the matching shorts mean my legs are bare, and my nerves catch fire as he leans forward.

“What are you reading?”

I shut the book. “Go away and stop distracting me.”

Kade smirks. “Do I distract you a lot, Freckles?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Too innocent for you now?”

“Okay.” I throw the duvet off. “I’m sleeping in the car.”

He captures my arm, and the electricity running through my body has me inwardly gasping.

I grit my teeth. “Stop being a dick. Really, Kade. You know this is awkward, and you being an idiot is making it worse.”

“I’ll stop,” he says, his gaze a little droopy now he’s closer to me. “It was a joke.”

I can tell he’s tipsy by how hooded his eyes are. He’s always had beautiful sleepy eyes. When he’s been drinking, they fall nearly closed. Even then, the silvery blue is still noticeable. Still breath-taking.

It’s annoying when I’m supposed to be mad at him.

I put a pillow between us. “Don’t come on my side or I’ll poke you in the eye.”

There’s a shadow of a smirk on his face.

Silence falls. The lamp on his bedside table is still on. This is bad. My heart shouldn’t be racing and threatening to blow through my chest. I shouldn’t be nervous. We’re two people sharing a bed because there’s no other option.

Except, I fear that my body will gravitate towards him in my sleep. And this new version of Kade who hates my guts will push me away and probably knock me off the bed.

He sits up, and my eyes linger on him as he types at rapid speed on his phone. Call me nosey, but I can’t help it. He’s replying to emails. At least, I think they’re emails – I don’t recognise the app he’s using. I chew on the inside of my cheek, pull my own phone out and start scrolling, bored.

Ten minutes pass. “Why are you replying to work emails so late?”

Kade doesn’t stop typing. “Because some people need to actually work, regardless of the time.”

“Where do you even work? Last I knew, you were helping Ewan and studying.”

He opens a new email and types to someone with a name starting with B, then angles his phone so I can’t see what the message says. “None of your business. A lot has changed in two years.”

So he isn’t going to tell me where he works? Weird, but okay. Noted.

“Did you see the news? Someone was killed not far from here. Decapitated. The person who did it is still out there.”

Kade doesn’t look up from his phone, and with the most monotonous, bored tone, he replies, “Shame.”