hands around her goddamn neck and squeeze every bit of air out of her lungs. But, once I heard all the pain in her voice and saw how much was in her eyes, I knew it wasn’t just from Billy’s OD. It went deeper than that.
Much deeper.
So, I took her to a place where there wasn’t a casket staring her right in the face, where her brother wasn’t breathing down her fucking neck. I thought it would help her open up.
It had.
By her second cocktail, some of the old Kyle had started to come out. She was chewing the end of her straw, teasing her tongue around its rim. She had no idea how sexy she was. She didn’t when we were kids, and she hadn’t been able to handle her booze back then either. One cocktail at Mario’s house, and I could get anything I wanted out of her. That was why I’d never let her drink with anyone but me and why I’d put her to bed before she did something she’d regret in the morning.
My plan didn’t fail me this time.
Once the liquor began revealing more of her guilt, I sent the text message. Things were set in motion…and they were going to stay in motion.
Fucking guilt.
I knew what it looked like; the same shit was rotting inside me. But that had been the first time I’d seen it in Kyle’s eyes. I had to give her credit. She hid it well. Too goddamn well. She shouldn’t have drunk anything. The booze had broken down her walls and shown me things I should have seen before. Had I seen it, things would have played out differently.
I would have brought her to Vegas. I would have gotten her into school. I would have taken care of her. I would have made her mine.
And I would have protected her.
But now…
Now, we were here.
Having feelings for her hadn’t been part of my plan. I didn’t know when the fuck that had happened, but I had to keep those feelings separate.
And her body. I tried to only touch her when she stirred, but my hands didn’t want to stay off her.
I had to forget I felt anything at all. I had to forget I’d touched her.
Really touched her.
And I had to focus on getting what I wanted.
Kyle knew something. Whatever that something was…it was going to be mine.
Sixteen
Kyle
I sat on edge, waiting for Breath to burst into our cell or for Beard to pluck me from Garin’s arms. Whenever I opened my eyes, I expected to be on the icy chair again, the ropes burning my wrists, a revolting tongue resting on my earlobe, sticky residue drying somewhere on my body. The only time I’d relaxed was when Garin was inside me.
But as the hours ticked on, Beard eventually returned. He threw down two trays, flashed us his gun, and left with a grunt.
The next day was the same, and so was the one after that.
I knew I wouldn’t be kept in the dark forever. There was a reason Garin and I were here, and it would be explained soon. But it felt like the more time I spent in our cell, the further I was from that answer. I began getting a little more comfortable in there. There was someone responsible for that.
Garin.
Kyle.
He was doting, caring. He made me laugh so hard that tears streamed from my eyes and my stomach cramped. He made me remember the times we’d shared in The Heart.
He made me feel every emotion.
I didn’t know how a cell like ours could feel tolerable, but somehow, Garin made that happen. He made the food taste good by taking my mind to a place where everything was delicious. He made the floor seem less filthy and the sink less rusted. He made the colors less drab and the air not as damp.
He made me feel loved. It had always been there. It had never once weakened. But being here with him brought it back even stronger.
“There’s something on your mind, Kyle. Tell me what it is.”
My empty dinner tray sat in front of me. My fingers dripped from the buttery sauce the noodles had soaked in and the pineapple juice that I’d searched through to find the chunks.
I tried to stand, but he stopped me.
“Say it.” He looked down at my hands and drew one of my fingers into his mouth, sucking off the juice. He didn’t rush through the others. He took his time, his tongue