Rafe’s eyes drop. “Because… I needed to see it. Silas needed to see it.”
“So you arranged it,” I breathe. “And my word wasn’t enough for you, Rafe, was it? Why would you believe me? Why would you trustme?”
He opens his mouth to argue, and I hold up my hand.
“I get it,” I say, my throat tight. “I honestly do. I lied to you once. But don’t try to tell me how sorry you are now, after you put me on display and paraded me in front of her. After you’ve spent the whole night fucking flirting with her. Own your shitty decisions, the way I owned mine.”
“I’m sorry.” And helookssorry. His face pale with shock, the sorrow and regret fucking radiate from him. “None of it was real. Not a bit of it.”
My laugh is sad. “It felt real enough to me. I’m going to clean up my face now. I’m still expected back there.”
“You’re not going back,” Kit says firmly. “Rafe will make your apologies, and mine. We’re going to clean up your face.”
Rafe hesitates, but then he nods. “This discussion isn’t over.”
“It feels pretty done to me.” I poke at my face. “Unless you have any other surprises you’d like to tell me about?”
“I deserve that,” he says in a low voice. “And more. But I don’t want any more secrets between us, Stasi. I’m done with them.”
He’s gone before I can respond. Kit nudges me towards the door. He’s silent as we head down towards the kitchen, moving straight past the door to the dining room where voices echo out. I glance around for Ellen as we head down the steps, but she must still be upstairs.
“Sit.” Kit settles me onto a stool, coming back with the first aid kit. “I fucking hate how often I’ve had to do this.”
“Well.” I mumble as he presses gauze against my mouth. “People do seem to enjoy hitting me.”
“That’s not funny,” he snaps.
I lift one shoulder. “Wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Silas is going to lose his shit,” he murmurs, pulling the gauze away to look. “You don’t need stitches.”
“Silas can go and fuck himself on a very sharp, very spiky cactus.”
Kit chokes at my snarled words. “He’s going to be furious. But more at himself, I would say.”
“Good.” I hiss as he spreads cool cream across the cut, his thumb smoothing the sting away. “Although he’s not the one who’s been imprisoned for something they didn’t do.”
Kit pauses, his fingers dropping from my face as he stares down at me. “I want to know it all,” he says finally. “Every bit, Stasi. From the beginning to the end.”
I hold his gaze. “I know. But not now.”
“No,” he agrees, “but soon.”
He tosses the used gauze away, washing his hands before he settles next to me. I let out a breath, but it turns into a squeak as Kit slides his hands around my waist, lifting me onto his lap.
“I want to hold you,” he breathes into my neck. “If I’m holding you, then I won’t go up there and throw her out of our house.”
His warm breath tickles my skin. “I wouldn’t be averse to that, you know.”
Kit draws back, his palm cupping my cheek. “I would do that. In a heartbeat. But we have an advantage over her at the moment. More than one, really, but if she doesn’t know thatweknow, then she can’t plan for it.”
His thumb traces gentle loops across my face. “You’re not on your own anymore, Stasi. I said it before, and I meant every word.”
I want to believe him. I do.
“I don’t trust anything good, Kit.” His eyes flick to mine in question, and I look away.
“Everything good gets taken away from me,” I say softly. “Every single thing, my entire life. It’s better not to expect anything.”
