I blink, not used to this side of him. It makes my skin prickle. I don’t like it.
“Are you insane?” I guffaw, trying to push us back into hostility. “Yes, I’m going to hate you forever. You burned down myhouse!”
“And I don’t regret it,” he says, standing straighter.
There it is. The audacity. That’s better.
“And I would do it again,” he continues. “Despite the fucking guilt that’s eating me alive right now, I would do it again because it was the only way to keep you safe.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m so safe now.” I shake my head, feeling more on level ground. “I’mhomeless, Jax.” I hate the way I add his name, hate that I like saying it. “Meandmy sister,” I tack on so that it’s not only me he’s wounded, so that it’s not so personal. We don’t need to get personal. It was clearly a mistake to let my shields down. It’s better if they stay up.
“I would never let you be homeless. You or Nix.” He has the gall to look offended.
“I find that hard to believe, considering you burned—”
“I burned down your house. Fuck, yes, I know.” He runs a hand through his hair. “But forever? That’s a long time to hate someone who was trying to protect you.”
I squirm in my skin. God, why does he sound so repentant? And why is his gaze so pained? Andwhyis my traitorous heart reacting to it? I don’t want him to be sorry. I want him to be an arrogant prick so I can hate him and keep myself safe.
“Why do you evencare?” I grind out, hating the tremble in my voice. “You… you kill people for a living. You’re a…a sociopath! And an arsonist!” I grasp at straws, on the cusp of stupid tears.
“Why do I care?” He laughs, sharp and broken. “Jesus fucking Christ, Kira. Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? I can’t think clearly. I can’t fucking breathe around the guilt of burning your house down, and trust me, I would love to be the sociopath,” he winces, “that you apparently think I am, if itwould end this torture. But I’m not. I’m a weak, pathetic version of myself when it comes to you. And I have no doubt my brother is just as dumbstruck by your sister as well, seeing as how he was so desperate to help her. Your Noland blood sears away logic. I should have killed you that first night to—”
“And you’re still threatening to kill me,” I latch onto the only part of his words that don’t make me want to run into his arms and forgive him.
His eyes flash. “I’m trying to make you understand that Iknewwhat you were going to do to me, and I still couldn’t do it, that you rattle my brain so thoroughly that I keep making mistakes. Starting with bringing you here.”
“Oh, thank God.” I sag theatrically, if only to hide the pathetic hurt I shouldn’t feel. “Kick us out so I never have to see your psychotic face again.”
“You haven’t seen psychotic yet,” he growls under his breath before pinning me with a stare. “Wherever you go, I’ll be there. You think if you get a new place, I won’t be parked outside every night? You think if you faint again, it won’t be me who catches you, that it won’t be my arms that carry you? I dare you to try and walk home at two a.m. without spotting me ten paces behind.” He steps closer. “You will never get rid of me, Kira. No matter how much you hate me.”
I try desperately to hold my ground, but the things he’s saying, the closer he gets, the harder it is to stay angry. He smells likehim—like leather and smoke and warmth—and the way he towers over me, so strong and solid and unyielding. He’s everything I want to fall into, everything I want to latch onto.
“You will see my face every day,” he continues, prowling closer until I swear I can feel the thump of his heart in the air, “because I can’tnotsee your face.”
I swallow despite myself. There’s such earnest in his dark eyes, such fire and fury and resonance as he takes in myfeatures. Embarrassment burns my cheeks because I know that my expression lacks the anger I want it to have. But I don’t dare move, afraid that if I do, I’ll fall right into him.
“I’ll buy you a new house,” he says, voice suddenly softer as if he knows I’m wilting. “I know it can’t replace what you’ve lost, but I would never let you be homeless. Just… stay here,” he cups my cheek, “for a little bit longer.”
I close my eyes against the touch, as if the heat will dissipate if I don’t see the person behind it. Because I can’t bring myself to pull away. A mixture of self-loathing and comfort tears my heart in two. I’m helpless to fight off the soft place of rest he’s giving me. I’m so tired, so very, very tired. He said I make him a weak, pathetic version of himself, but he does the same to me.
“Jax.” Tears well behind my eyelids.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs, his tone tender but resolute. “It’s easier if you don’t fight it.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kira
Dinner.
With the man who makes Caleb hunt bunnies and employs Jax to kill people—at least, that’s what I’m pretty sure he does. Based on what Caleb said while I was in the hospital, and the implicit heads-up Jax tried to give me while convincing me to attend this dinner, I’m pretty sure James is the reason Jax does what he does.
Grinding my teeth, I twist in the closet mirror, admiring how my ass looks in the designer jeans. Jesus, I’ve never seen my body look this good.
“You’re welcome,” Nix says from where she’s lounging on the tufted ottoman.
“Did you pick this stuff out?” I spin on her.
