care about him. I do. I might be able to do more than that, but I can’t. He’s attractive, in a really weirdly exotic way. I certainly never considered my dream man would have red skin and sea-green hair, but he pulls it off. He’s strong, and beneath his gruff exterior is kindness. A gooey center wrapped in his bulging red muscles.
My mom would have had a cow though, wouldn’t she? If she was sober enough to see him or care. As if she had room to judge. My childhood was a parade of ‘boyfriends’ and ‘uncles,’ changing almost as often as I changed my socks.
I flinch, unable to avoid the painful memories hiding in buried memories. My breath quickens as my chest tightens, and my stomach is a hard, cold knot in the middle. I rub my face, trying to scrub the memories away.
If only it were that easy. Memories have a way of sticking, hiding in the dark corners of the mind, waiting for a trigger. Some sight, sense, or smell that reminds you, no matter how subtly, of the past pain. And it hurts, every damn time.
They say time heals all wounds. I call bullshit.
Time is a great deceiver. All it does is bury the really bad memories under a ton more shit you don’t want to recall. That way it’s harder for them to get dug up, but even that doesn’t always work. Like now.
Seeing my older brother, Nicky, walk out the door, a frozen image that fills my thoughts. The pained look on his face. The feeling of devastation ripping through my guts. Mom screaming at him, one last time, threatening him.
He looked at me. Tears in his eyes and fear. He was terrified. He was the target, and if he stayed, god knows what would happen. I wanted to save him. I tried, but my voice wouldn’t come. I was too small, the emotions too strong.
Sitting up, I push it away. Anzil’s breathing is steady as I tiptoe past him to the bathroom. Cold water on my face shocks my system. The memory fades. I stare into the mirror. Never again. I swore it that day. Never again would I stand by, and I won’t do it now.
“Nevaeh, Scarlet,” I mutter the mantra then dry my face. “Camilla, Paisley.”
I take a deep breath and hold it for the count of ten then exhale it slowly. My heart rate slows, and the tension eases. I’m going to go over the wall. I need to continue scouting if I’m going to find them. Nodding to my reflection, I turn and open the door. Head down, I step out and run head first in to Anzil’s rock hard chest.
“Good morning,” his deep voice rumbles in my bones.
My focus shatters into a million glistening shards. I look up and open my mouth to speak, but no words make it past the desert of my tongue. He’s naked, and there’s no mistaking or missing it. Pointedly, I keep my head tilted back to meet his eyes and refuse to look down.
I didn’t miss it, though. Even now I can see that oh so enticing V leading down to—no, no, eyes up, Kiara. Eyes up.
My heart thumps, a kettle drum building towards a crescendo. I’m breathing so fast I’m dizzy.
Blinking rapidly, I suck a breath through my teeth, shake my head, and do the only thing that comes to mind. I step back.
He leans against the doorframe, obviously comfortable with himself. His eyes burn, twinkling like twin flames of barely contained passion. He raises one arm over his head and grasps the doorway. I watch the way his muscles roll, each one so perfectly defined, like a study in perfect male physiology.
“M-m-m-morning,” I stutter.
“You are up early,” he says.
“Yeah,” I say. Keep your eyes up. Up. Up.
“Are you okay?” he asks, dropping his arm and stepping closer.
His voice has turned soft, gentle, that god damn kindness oozing out of him like chocolate from a lava cake. It’s the last thing I need; it’s the only thing I need, but no. Not now. Not here.
“I am fine,” I say.
“You weren’t planning… anything?”
“Please let me pass.”
“Kiara,” he says. “I will help. I need you to trust me.”
“Trust you?” I ask, shaking my head in disbelief. “Trust you? Why?” He doesn’t answer. “That’s what I thought. Now let me pass.” A grin spreads across his face, then he’s laughing so hard it shakes his body, causing other parts to dance. I close my