28

28

KADE

Mum and Ewan are watching a movie in the sitting room, and my sister has had Stacey in the studio for hours, so I’ve spent the last three hours torturing Archie.

He’s weak. His skin is a little yellow. Well, the parts I haven’t already cut into. He’s slobbering everywhere, and I think he might have an infection in his dick from the nail gun.

He wails in pain as I stub my cigarette out on his cheek.

“Are you going to give me any information on those bastards in the underworld, or am I going to start pulling your fingernails?”

“Go f-f-fuck yourself.”

I shrug and grab a pair of pliers, and blood squirts all over my face as I yank his pinkie nail out. I chuck aside the tool and cross my arms. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Pour bleach on his wounds,” I order one of my men.

“Yes, sir.”

I unravel my shirt sleeves, refasten the cuffs and head out into the corridor, stopping when I hear music – “Dead Man” by David Kushner. I push the door to the studio open to see Stacey mounting the aerial hoop.

Throughout the song, I watch as she dances in a routine. She forms shapes that would break my bones and kill me, and she spins so slowly and sensually, I know she’s feeling the music, zoning out and letting go.

I gulp and lean my forehead on the doorframe, hidden enough that she won’t see me watching the way she bends and moves, the light sweat working on her skin.

We’ve been texting back and forth today. Nothing flirty or about the other night. She’s given me soft smiles and even nudges me playfully when we’re eating at the dinner table.

We’ve walked the dogs together too. She still can’t handle holding both leashes without letting go when they pull.

Her routine ends, and she drops from the hoop like a cadaver and lies on the thin mat, her chest rising and falling. She wipes her face, then she starts stretching.

A throat clears behind me, and I turn to see Ewan holding a bottle of bleach. “I was told to bring this down.”

Luciella and I haven’t really talked. Me and my sister aren’t the type of twins to connect with our emotions – we aren’t synchronised.

She cries a lot. She’s very open about her emotions. She gets mad and yells; she cries and screams. And she begs my best friend every hour to come home to her. But he can’t.

Base hasn’t spoken much either. He’s busy with the Russian drama. I get it – he had a life outside of my bullshit, and I respect the hell out of him for saving my sister. And Dez is on his way home too. He and Tylar will be back in time for Jason’s funeral.

My phone buzzes on my dresser, and I try to sit up, but the dogs are on top of me. I slide them off me – somehow they stay asleep – and reach for my phone.

Freckles: Why are you awake?

Me: Who’s the stalker now? I’m watching TV. You want to come up?

Freckles: I might accidentally fall asleep in your bed though.

Me: Then I’ll let you sleep in my bed.

Freckles: Only if you want me to.

Me: I do.

Freckles: Please don’t start vacuuming your curtains and freaking out again. I’m coming up now.

I frown at the screen in confusion, then it clicks that my mum must’ve told her she walked in on me doing just that when Stacey was coming up when we were teens.

The fucking traitor.

Then there’s a pressure on my chest, because Stacey is coming up here, and I have no idea what the fuck we are or what we’re doing.

I drop my phone and stand, pacing the room with my hands in my hair until I get dizzy and have to sit down. When the knock on the door comes, I grab the face covering and secure it in place.

After I glance over my room to make sure it’s tidy, the balcony doors wide open to eliminate the smell of weed, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My lungs give up as I swing the door open to the girl I’ve been obsessed with since I was fifteen.

She wears silk pyjama shorts and a top, and fluffy slippers with dog faces on them. She smiles sleepily and walks in as I step aside. The dogs run over to her – she crouches to see them before flopping down on the bed.

“I would say I missed your room, but I slept in here for weeks.”

“Why?” My brow arches as I close the door and lock it. Wait, is it normal to lock the door if it’s only a friend?

She shrugs, star-fishing. “Like I said, I missed you. I felt close to you, even though you weren’t here.”

“Sounds a little psychotic and obsessive. I think you spent too much time with my dad.”

My dad. Who’s with—

I blink away the thought and cross my arms. Her smile stays on her mouth, but it leaves her eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to hang around with the dogs.” She pets them and shifts so Hopper can rest his head on her arm.

I snort. “They still like me more.”

“Debatable.”

“Get properly into bed and I’ll put something on,” I order as I grab the TV remote and turn it on.

“Are we actually watching something? Can’t we just go to sleep? It’s four in the morning.”

I smirk and pull the duvet back. “I knew you just wanted in my bed.”

She laughs softly, and fuck, I missed that.

Wait. Are we flirting?

We are.

I think.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m never going to sleep if you have a movie on.”

Regardless, I need something on. Background sounds drown out the voices in my head. It’s stupid, but I’ve tried everything else to stop them – trying to sleep is torture. Sometimes they’re so loud, I believe they’re real. I believe I’m in her bed and waiting for her to cut me or drug me, or for her to bring in our next victim.

“I’m not expecting anything from you,” she says in a serious tone. “I just want to be here for you, okay? If you need my company, have it. If you need me to keep your mind off everything, then I’m here.”

I furrow my brows as I get into bed. “I don’t understand you at all.” She tilts her head, confused. “I tried to shoot you. I chased you down in your car and held a gun to your head. You—” I gulp. “You were raped after losing our daughter, and I left you.”

She’s unfazed as she raises a shoulder. “All relationships have their obstacles, Kade. You weren’t in control of any of yours. What’s done is done. All we can do is go forward, right?”

My voice lowers as I reply, “But I don’t know how to move forward.”

She rests her head on the pillow, and I turn to face her on mine. She reaches forward and tugs the material on my face. “Take this off. You don’t need it.”

I shake my head.

“You don’t need to hide from me.”

I do though. And she should be hiding from me.

“Bernadette made me take a blade to my own face. It was either that or she’d hurt my sister.”

I think I’ve already told her this, but her eyes water anyway as her nostrils flare. “She’s a monster,” she sneers. “I’ve never hated someone so much in my life. Her and her stupid, vile husband.”

I look at her, wondering if she knows just how much they both violated me. Would she see me differently if she knew I was raped by them both? That I was raped by both men and women, sometimes at the same time?

A part of me thinks she does know. Yet she’s still here, in my bed, spending time with me. She doesn’t think I’m disgusting or used.

“Do you want to talk about any of it?”

“No,” I retort, hating myself for the shitty reply and the way she flinches. “Shit. Sorry. No. You’d run for the hills if you knew half the stuff she made me do.” I shake my head. “You saw what I did to your stepbrother. That pales in comparison to everything else. One time, I made a guy eat his own intestines.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh.”

“I wanted to make Chris do the same, but I think I got sidetracked. I don’t remember much.” I chew my lip. “I’m sorry about what I did to you in front of him.”

Her expression stays the same. “I wish you’d fucked me in front of him. It would have hurt him a lot more.”

I study her face – how beautiful she is. “I would’ve hated myself more if I’d fucked you.”

“Why?”

I let out a mocking laugh. “Why would you want me anywhere near you?”

“Because I love you. Because I’ve always loved you. Regardless of what you’ve gone through and the changes we’ve both had to make to our lives, my feelings remain the same, Kade. I won’t stop loving you.”

“I wish I could be the old me again,” I admit quietly. “I hate who I am now. Because all I can think about is killing people.”

She shifts but not out of discomfort. “Who do you want to kill?”

“Everyone who’s ever wronged you, hurt you, touched you without your consent. I want to rip them all apart. I’d ruin myself to keep you safe.”

“You have a beautiful soul,” she says. “You’re worth more than death.”

I want to lean forward and kiss her, but I banish the urge. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” she fires back.

I roll my eyes then close them. “I forgot how insufferable you are.”

“I forgot how much room you take up in bed. Stay in your half!”

I chuckle when she kicks my shin in a lame attempt to show dominance of her side. I grab the back of her thigh and pull her towards me to close some of the distance she’s put between us.

It’s an absent-minded move, and we both open our eyes, our gazes clashing at the feel of my hand on her bare skin. It lights a fire within me that I’m desperate to put out. I get flashes of the times I’ve been on and in her, and heat coils up my spine.

She’s the only person I’ve ever willingly wanted. The only person to turn me on. The only person I’ve pictured spending the rest of my life with.

Her leg hikes up to my hip, and I try to drag my middle finger up from her ankle to the back of her knee, but she grabs my wrist. “I need to shave.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Felt like I was touching a cactus.”

She moves back and takes her leg with her. “Rude.”

I smirk and close my eyes again, my skin burning for another touch. “It’s nearly five in the morning now.”

“Great observation skills, Mr Mitchell.”

I open my eyes to see her pull the duvet to her chin. “Stand beside me at the funeral on Saturday.”

She nods. “I will. It’ll be okay. I’m glad they finally released his body.”

I hum as I pull off the face covering. “Yeah.”

I turn off the lamp, leaving only the glow from the TV playing, the sound of whatever show I clicked on a gentle murmur in the background. I haven’t been this nervous since our first kiss, but I need to give her something. For me and for her. I need to try.

Leaning over and pressing my hand to the pillow beside her head, I look down at her. “Don’t move.”

She gives a little nod, watching me lower myself to her, my hair falling over my eyes.

I kiss her cheek, hovering for a second when she makes a cute hum in her throat. I press my lips down a bit, closer to her mouth while she stays still but breathless.

I shut my eyes and focus away from the voices, screams and gunshots that echo in my mind. They almost prevent me from kissing her again, but she grabs my chin. “You’re in control.”

I’m really fucking not.

“You can go as far as you want. You’re in control of this, Kade. I’m yours,” she says, and her eyes drop to my mouth. “And you’re mine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When I lean down again, my nose nudges hers and slides against her cheek – our lips are millimetres apart, and my breaths come out in a rush as I try to be in control.

“Kiss me,” she whispers against my mouth, knowing how desperately I want to do just that. “It’s just me and you. It’s always been me and you. Against the world.”

My heart stops and restarts when my lips press to hers softly.

I kiss her slowly at first, like the first time we ever kissed, and my nerves are on fucking fire. She keeps her hands to herself, while mine rest on each side of the pillow.

My teeth graze her bottom lip gently, and she parts her lips and sucks on my top one. She drags slow, chaise kisses to the corner of my mouth, and I hold my breath as she presses her mouth to my scar, trailing down to my jaw then back to my lips.

She carefully takes my face between her hands, her pupils dilating more with every second. “I love you. I’ve loved you since we were eighteen. And I’ll love you until we’re old and grey and we’ve lived our whole lives together.”

My entire world feels close to collapsing at her words, and I want to smother her with everything I have and protect her. I want to take her away from all of this and start a new life.

She might die next.

I slip my tongue between her lips, and my hand cups her cheek, sliding down to her throat and stilling when I get a flash of how many people died from me strangling them or snapping their necks.

I snatch my hand away at the visceral need to strangle her and fist it at my side as I pull away from her.

Did all the oxygen vanish in the room? Why can’t I breathe?

She sits up, her dark hair falling over her shoulders, and studies me as my lungs burn – my brain is fucking failing to work as my vision blurs. “Are you okay? You’ve gone pale.”

I try to sit up and attempt to breathe, but it’s like my mind isn’t connecting with my body. There’s a ringing in my left ear, and I hear a gunshot go off.

Good boy.

Good boy.

Good boy.

Another gunshot goes off.

It makes me flinch, but I know it’s not real.

It’s never real now.

There’s a tingling sensation all over my body, and I feel like I’m falling. A big drop. I flinch again.

And again and again and again.

I can’t talk. I try to tell Stacey that everything’s going numb, but the words come out slurred. My vision blurs, and the last thing I hear is Stacey gasping as my body violently jerks before everything goes black.