“Nix.”
My name is like a prayer on her lips and I want to prove I am worthy of her. She puts her book down and climbs out of the chair. She extends her arms and I step into them as I return her embrace. Kissing her forehead, her cheek, and her jaw, I lean my forehead against hers, silently asking if I can kiss her. I’m forcingmyself to respect these boundaries she’s put up, even though I’d love to tear them down.
She tips her head slightly, giving me permission, and I don’t wait for her to change her mind. Leaning down, I run my tongue along her lower lip, enjoying how her body melts into me. She opens up to me and my tongue meets hers. As much as I want to turn this dirty, I keep it short and sweet before pulling away. I smirk at the small pout that forms on her lips. Good, she wants me too.
She smiles and pulls back slightly. “Are you hungry? I haven’t eaten yet. I was waiting for you.” I don’t know why it surprises me, but it does. Kenz has always been kind and thought of others before herself, but she’s so different from what I grew up with. As much as I love my mother, she wasn’t the selfless person like Kenz is.
“You didn’t eat?” I ask as I guide her back to the kitchen. She walks to the oven, grabs an oven mitt, and pulls out two plates that were left to warm. She turns the oven off and brings the plates to where we normally sit at the island. I grab some glasses and pour us some sweet tea.
“I ate an apple to tie me over, but I wanted to eat with you.” I bring the glasses over and stare at her as she waits for me.
“Because you wanted to ask your question.” She has her fork halfway to her mouth when she pauses. She tilts her head at me and places her fork back on her plate. Something like hurt and maybe disappointment flashes in her eyes.
“No. Because I haven’t seen you in two months and I wanted to see you.” She pushes her plate away. “I’m not so hungry anymore,” she says softly. Standing, she walks out of the kitchen and I listen as her feet pad up the stairs. I scowl at her plate, then mine.
“I’m such an asshole.”
Chapter 11
Phoenix
Iopen my eyes and wait for them to get used to the darkness, listening intently to my surroundings. Every muscle in my body is drawn tight as I try to figure out what woke me up. A screech erupts from Kenz, making me suck in a breath and roll over to see if she’s hurt. Her knees and arms are bent with her hands in front of her face.
“Don’t,” she rasps.
My stomach hollows out at the tears streaming down her face. Cautiously, I place my hand in one of hers, flinching with how cold it is. I lower it slowly, then take my other hand and run it through her hair. She jerks her head away and tries to curl into herself. I inhale deeply and swallow.
“Kenz, wake up, love.” I scoot closer to her, offering my body heat. She’s shaking and I’m not sure if it’s from the fear of her dream or how cold she is. She’s kicked the blankets off, but since both my hands are occupied, I can’t pull them over her. “Kenz,” I say more firmly. Her eyes are moving behind her eyelids with whatever nightmare she’s experiencing. Or maybe it’s a memory.
She flinches as I shake her slightly, trying to get her to wake up. “Come on, love. Wake up.” I’m desperate, but I keep my voice even. Her eyes blink open and she stops breathing. It’s like she’s trying to be invisible. “Kenz, it’s me. You’re safe.” My voice is soft, barely above a whisper.
She blinks and sucks in a breath, slowly turning her head to look at me. Her lips tremble as she stares up at me. “You.” Her voice cracks and she squeezes her eyes shut as tears continue to flow. My heart stutters remembering when I rescued her all those months ago, and she looked up at me with fear, whispering that same word.
Was she having a nightmare about that night? Was she remembering what happened to her in that hellhole?
That’s the one thing I hope she never remembers. The one thing she’ll never have to relive.
I run my thumb below her eye, wiping her tears. She’s clutching my hand so tight it aches, but I’ll let her break my hand if it brings her any semblance of comfort.
“You’re not going to lick my tears?” she whispers.
I frown as a heaviness settles in my stomach, and my chest grows tight at her words. “Not tonight,” I answer, wishing I could go back and change everything about those first fewmonths. I want to pull her into my arms and offer her comfort, but I hesitate, not sure if she would accept it right now. I run my fingers through her hair and she doesn’t flinch, so I pull her more firmly against me, trying to offer her as much body heat as possible. Removing my fingers from her hair, I reach down and pull the blanket over her. She grabs it and pulls it up to her chin, her lips trembling slightly. Her eyes wander, taking in the room, making sure she’s really in bed with me. She takes a deep breath and rolls over onto her side facing me. I resume running my fingers through her hair as we stare at each other.
“Did you have a bad dream? Or was it a memory?” I ask. Her hand snakes out from under the blanket and she grips my forearm, her fingers still as cold as ice.
“They kept me in panties and a tank top all the time.” Her voice cracks. I force my face to remain neutral and I don’t speak because if I do, I might lose it. “I was always freezing. They’d remember I was there every week or so and take me outside, hose me down, and chain me back up.”
I grit my teeth so hard I’m sure they’ll break as I begin to plan the torture of whoever these people are. I will draw out their death for so long they’ll be begging me to end it. She closes her eyes again and shakes her head.
“Why did I have to remember that?” Her voice is so low I have to piece together what she said.
I push her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, love. If I could take it all away, I would.”
Her mouth tips up into a sad smile. “I know you would. That’s why I love you.” Her eyes close for a few seconds.
“I love you too,” I reply, thankful she still feels that way about me after the past two months. She runs her hand from my shoulder, down my bicep, to my forearm, leaving goosebumps along the way. She opens her eyes slowly, like she’s having ahard time keeping them open, her breathing already growing heavy.
“You always make me feel safe,” she murmurs.
