Kian
“I was waiting for your boyfriend to leave.”
I stepped in his direction and saw him. He was at the edge, and he shifted toward me. His words and where he was clicked with me. He was standing at the side of the building that overlooked my street. He’d been waiting to see if Jake left the building or not.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” My voice didn’t sound attached to my body. It was hoarse and high-pitched, like I was nervous and breathless at the same time.
Kian was still in the shadows. The hue from the street was behind him, so I couldn’t make out his face, but he started for me.
I fell back and then caught myself. My teeth sank into the side of my cheek. I forced myself to stand there, waiting for him, but half of me wanted to run away while the other half was leaning toward him.
He moved closer, and the light from the door illuminated his face. The door was behind me, so the light was mostly blocked, but there was a small slit from where the door was attached to the doorframe. It wasn’t a lot, and the small light disappeared as he moved even closer, stopping just in front of me. I still couldn’t fully make out his face, but that split second of vision had been enough.
Dark.
Brooding.
Deadly.
Gorgeous.
Molten dark eyes, angular high cheekbones, a strong jaw, lips that seemed to rest just perfectly while waiting to be curved high into a smile or to be pulled down into a frown.
As he came toward me, his lips showed neither emotion. He was just watching me back. My eyes traced his silhouette. He was still tall and lean, but his shoulders were bigger than I remembered. His shirt hugged to his form, showing how cut he was. He looked even more like a deadly weapon than he had been before going into prison.
His eyes narrowed, and I could feel him assessing me. I glanced down to the floor, wondering what he was thinking as he took me in. The streetlights were behind him but facing me. He could make out my face, my body, my everything.
My teeth sank even more into my cheek. What did he see when he looked at me?
He murmured, “He’s not?”
“He’s not.” That came out like an annoyed huff. I flushed, not intending it to be like that.
I could hear Snark yelling at me in my head. I needed to get away. I couldn’t see Kian. He was a part of his team, the evil lawyers who wanted to blame everything on me.
I began to edge for the door. What had I been thinking?
“You look different.”
I stopped. “So do you.”
Through the darkness, I caught how the side of his mouth lifted into a half-grin. It moved back down, and he stepped closer to me. He was looking down at me. There was still space between us. I couldn’t feel his body heat. Another person could’ve wedged their way between us.
“Why did you come see me? How did you even know where I was? Or recognize me?” There. Finally, I was sounding like an adult. There was the golden question that I wanted answered.
He didn’t answer.
He continued to study me. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his scrutiny.
“To make sure you were all right. I hired a private detective, and I helped him out. I thought you might be going here. I remembered one of your speeches in school was about how much you loved this school, and I knew it was you.”
I was stunned. “Really?” He remembered that? And he just knew it was me? How do I digest all of that?
“And to let you know that you don’t need to be scared of me.” His voice softened, and he closed the distance.
I could feel his body heat, and I could make out his face. Those eyes, I gulped again, I’d forgotten the power they had in the courtroom. He was looking into me, like only he could read my thoughts, know my feelings, and understand me. He knew me. That was how I was feeling again. A sense of feeling sheltered flowed through me. It pushed out the fear and coldness. I was beginning to grow warm, wanting to close the distance.
I never touched him before.
Not a hug. Not a handshake. Nothing.
Well, that wasn’t true. He gave me his shirt after killing Edmund. Mine ripped, so he lent me his. I never gave it back. It was a secret that I never shared with anyone. That shirt was still in my room, in the same box as my Taser. The irony wasn’t lost on me. One keepsake from him next to a weapon to use against him.
He kept going, “My parents and my lawyers don’t want me anywhere around you, but I had to come. I needed to make sure that you knew not to be scared of me. I…what I did, I know it was shocking. I shocked myself. I still don’t quite know what happened. I remember what I did. I remember doing it, but before it happened and the events leading up to it, those are still a blur, even after two years.”
Hearing him now, I was surprised. The lawyers hadn’t let him take the stand.
“I’ve seen doctors who told me that my brain doesn’t want to feel whatever I was feeling before it happened. I remember hearing you and opening the door. Then it’s blank. I-I just don’t want you to be scared of me. That’s all.”
I was right back in that room, not on the roof with Kian.
Edmund’s hands were on me again. Then the door opened…
I began to back away again. “I can’t.”
Edmund had one hand around my throat.
“Jordan.” Kian reached for me.
“No, I can’t do this. I’m sorry. It’s—I’m feeling him again, Kian.”
I knew it was Kian. I knew he was there, telling me not to be scared, but I wasn’t feeling it was him. The flashbacks were too much, and they were coming in at breakneck speed. I couldn’t handle all of them, not all at once.
I shook my head, and my back hit the door. I reached behind and felt for the door handle, then moved around the door. The back of my legs hit the boulder.
I started to fall backward, but Kian caught me. He lifted me and held me to him for a second. I felt him kicking at something, and then he set me back down. He had moved the rock out of the way. And he was holding the door open, so it wouldn’t hit me.
“Okay,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you before…” He hesitated. He was raking over my face. “Never mind. I didn’t intend for this. I’m sorry, Jordan.”
“It’s Jo,” I murmured. “I’m using the name Joslyn.”
“That’s right.” A resigned sigh slipped from his lips. He looked haunted. “Go ahead. I’ll wait and make my way from the roof. I am sorry. I didn’t realize my presence would bring all those memories back. I never intended for that.”
He sounded in pain, and for a second, I stopped.
Everything was pushed aside for a split second, and I could clearly see him. He felt bad, but I still felt danger lurking from him. The image of him, right before he had taken a knife to Edmund’s throat, was in the back of my mind.
I wanted to leave. I wanted to stay. “Thank you for coming.”
He nodded, his face becoming a mask. “You don’t have to be scared of me, and I know what your FBI agent thinks. My team won’t blame you. I’ll go back on trial, and I know what he’s said to you. None of it is true. You were the victim. I wouldn’t let them victimize you again.”
“You know?”
He nodded again. “I know that you’re hiding, and I understand why. The media would crucify you.”
“I couldn’t have a normal life again.”
“I know. I do. That’s why I disappeared that first time on the street. Your boyfriend, or whoever he is, would’ve seen me. I…” He paused and glanced away for a second. “I think I just wanted to talk to you for me. I needed to reassure myself that you weren’t scared of me.”
“Never.”
His gaze jerked back to mine, and I was caught, once again held by him. Something deeper was happening between us, but I couldn’t name it. I didn’t think I even wanted to. If I did, I’d have to make a decision to let it happen or stop it completely. I didn’t want to do either of those things, so I let it go. I silenced the voice second-guessing
everything in my head. He had killed to protect me. I needed to be grateful, and that was it.
“If I hadn’t been born into the family I have, this wouldn’t have been such a big media frenzy. For that, it’s my fault. What I did, who I am—all of that created this whole thing. I know the news is starting to focus on you, and they’re asking questions about where you are, et cetera. I just wanted to come and apologize for that, too. They put a romantic spin on it, but now that you’re missing, I’m worried they’re going to turn on you. I hope they don’t.”
I knew what he was saying. I was waiting for it to happen, too, but that was why I was still hiding. I reached out and touched his arm. “If they turn on me and if they find me, I’ll have to deal with it. Until then, thank you, Kian. For what you did, thank you.”
“You’re not scared of me?”
I shook my head. Most of the fear was dissolved. “You saved me.”
“He threw away his future while you got a new one.”
Snark’s words were taunting me. I should’ve paid them more attention, but I couldn’t.
The storm inside of me was for Kian. My brain was telling me to get away as fast as possible. Logic wasn’t winning right now.
My phone starting buzzing, and I pulled it out. Erica was calling me.
“I’m sorry. I should take this. She doesn’t usually call unless the world is ending, or she needs wine ASAP.”
He chuckled. “She sounds fun, whoever it is.”
I started for the stairs, but I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay up here, and I wanted to get to know someone whom I felt like I had known all my life.
I sighed. My phone kept buzzing, and I clicked Answer as I was going down the stairs. “Hey, what’s up?”
“You will never believe what she did.” Erica’s anger was like whiplash.
I kept going down the stairs, but my mind and everything was still on the roof. He’d wanted to make sure I was okay, that I wasn’t scared of him. I had never considered that possibility.
“She’s such a bitch.”
I tuned back in to what Erica was saying as I got to my floor and went through the door. “Who’s a bitch?” Wait, she’d already said that. I had heard it. “Susan. What did she do again?”
“First, she backstabbed the senior reporter. She’s out. Susan got her kicked off the project, and I have no idea how she did it, but she’s trying the same with me. Susan’s trying to scoop me.”
I frowned as I got to our apartment and pulled out my keys. Fumbling through them, I found the right one and unlocked the door. As I did, I stopped. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but I didn’t feel fear. I felt him. Slowly, I straightened upright. The phone fell away, and I looked where I’d just come from.
Kian was standing there. He was watching me.
This would’ve been creepy if it were anyone else, but remembering the stark need on his face while on the roof as he’d said he wanted to make sure I wasn’t scared of him pushed everything out of me. I held up a hand to him.
He waved back. “Making sure you got there okay.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“Jo?” Erica was calling from my phone.
I held it back to my ear, but I was riveted by Kian. I could see him better now in the hallway. With the lean cut of his body, the jeans he was wearing, the black sneakers on his feet, and even how the whites of his eyes seemed to stand out from how tan his skin was—he was gorgeous.
The corner of his mouth lifted, and I knew he’d caught me checking him out. Ducking my head down, my cheeks got red, and I shoved inside my place. The door swung shut behind me, and I leaned back against it.
I was so stupid, checking him out after everything. I shook my head at myself, but then heard Erica’s voice again.
“Jo! Hello? Jo, where are you?”
“Sorry. There was a guy in the hallway.”
“You weren’t home? I thought you got off work an hour ago. Where were you? Wait.” She paused. “Is he hot? Please tell me he’s a new neighbor.”
“I’m home now, and no, I don’t think he’s a neighbor.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Wait. How’d you get home?”
I sighed, pulling open the fridge to grab a water. “Jake walked me home.”
“Was that Jake? Please tell me it was because I’d like to rub that in Susan’s face. I swear, she’s just as possessive of him when he’s not Tara’s boyfriend than when he was.”
Sinking down on a chair, I put my water on the table and gripped the phone tighter. “Erica, you called me for a reason. You don’t usually call to vent when you’re working.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m not working. I’m at the Wine Cellar. I was more calling to have you come down here, so I could vent to you in person. Wanker couldn’t come. He said something about throwing up. I don’t know what he meant. He’s never sick, so it couldn’t be because of that, but whatever. Can you come down?”
“To the Wine Cellar?”
Kian was probably leaving the building right now.
Erica kept talking. Venting. Wanker. Wine Cellar. It was all jumbled together.
I turned toward the balcony.
Could I see him?
“Uh-huh,” I murmured to the phone as I stood from the table.
There was no conscious thought. My body moved that way. The light was left on. If he looked up, he would catch me. I didn’t care, and I sank down on one of the chairs. I’d just been there, not even an hour ago, hiding from people who had been chasing after me. I was back, and I was the chaser now.
There he was.
I leaned over the railing, and Kian came out the side door. As he did, he stopped in the sidewalk. His hands searched inside his jeans pockets, and then his head straightened. He twisted around. He was gazing up. I ducked down, but I could still see a little bit.
He was staring right at my apartment.
I was eight floors up, and it was dark out, but he continued to look up. My forehead pressed against the railing, and I gripped my phone so close to my head that Erica could probably hear the street sounds through it.
“Jo?” she said.
“Yeah?” I murmured, clearing my throat.
Going back to my knees, I peeked again, but he wasn’t there anymore. I couldn’t see him up or down the street. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was a ghost now.
“Will you?”
I cursed. I’d missed so much in this conversation. “Yeah. Sure. No problem.” What had I agreed to?
“Great! I’ll save you a seat, but I have to warn you that some of the others from the newspaper are here, too.”
I’d agreed to head down to the Wine Cellar. “Oh. Yeah, give me ten minutes to get there.” I glanced down at my uniform. “Make that twenty.”
“I’ll have a drink ready for you. Thank you, Jo!”
“Yeah. Okay.” I hung up, and I couldn’t help myself. I looked one last time before heading back inside.
There was no Kian below.
It was the next morning.
Erica was hungover, and I was late for work. I rushed from my bedroom, but stopped at the sight of Wanker stretched out on our couch. Somehow, Wanker had slept over. His shoes had been kicked off. His shirt was pushed up as he was idly scratching at his chest, and he had his other arm flung over his face, his nose stuck into his elbow. He was snoring, too.
Erica came out of her room at that same time. She made a beeline for the coffee pot.
I held up two fingers. “One, I need a cup of coffee, too. And, two, how did he get there? He wasn’t at the Wine Cellar with us last night.”
She grinned, filling a cup. Before pouring the second cup for me, she lifted her mug and took a good whiff of it. “Heaven. My