Kaden
“Ash,” I grab her arms, grounding her. “It’ll be alright; we’ll figure it out.”
“No. You don’t understand. The only way I was leaving that house was as the wife of Owen or in a body bag. It’s been made clear to me many times that I’m only worth as much as the husband I bring home.”
I wrap my arms around her as she shakes. She’s losing it. She has every right to. I know the situation she’s describing, I’ve seen it amongst the wealthy and influential.
“Ashleigh, look at me.”
I hold her head in my hands and lower my head, eyes on hers. The moisture I see there hurts my heart. That’s what drives my word, my promise, “I will take care of it. Your father will not kill you.”
I have a plan for her father, but I won't share it. I don’t think Ash would be on board straight away. I’ll give her time and show her the way forward slowly.
Her eyes slowly narrow and scan my face, looking for anything that she doesn’t trust. It takes a minute; her browsfurrow, but in the end, she gives me the slightest nod. And my heart bursts with the trust she’s just given me.
My lips take hers in the moment of complete passion.
Ashleigh’s back is pressed to the wall, her fingers tangle in my shirt, keeping a tight hold on me. The kiss deepens, turning hungry, desperate - like we’re both searching for something we lost a long time ago. My hands slide down, tracing the curve of her waist, and down to the bottom of her borrowed shirt. I glide my hands back up her hips, dragging the t-shirt with me, memorising every line and scar, every shiver beneath my touch.
She gasps against my mouth, her breath hot and uneven, and I can’t help but smile into the kiss, her boldness matching my own. We pull apart only long enough for me to rip the material over her head. The next second, the t-shirt is on the floor, and Ashleigh is naked in front of me.
Our lips collide, and Ashleigh's hands go to my shirt, aggressively ripping it from my body. My hands fumble with my jeans. It’s too hot in here, and it’s only going to get hotter.
We move together, urgent and clumsy, both naked now and exploring each other's skin. We find the bed in a blur of tangled limbs and whispered names. I pause just long enough to look at her—the way the city lights spill over her skin, casting her scars in silver and shadow. She meets my gaze, daring me, inviting me to lose myself with her.
Ashleigh squirms as I trail kisses down her neck, over her shoulder and down her chest. My lips capture her nipple as my hand caresses the other one. Her moan sets me off, wanting to hear the sound on a loop for all eternity.
The world shifts as she arches beneath me, nails scraping my back as I descend even further down her body. Every touch is a promise, every kiss a confession neither of us says out loud. We move together, wildly breathless, until there’s nothing left butthe sound of our hearts pounding and the certainty that, for this moment, we are both exactly where we belong.
But the unspoken still lingers in the background. We’ll have to deal with reality sooner or later, but as I take her and make her mine, nothing else exists. Nothing else matters.
12
Ashleigh
Iblink awake, tangled in sheets and the delicious soreness of last night’s wildness. For a moment, it’s just peace—no threats, no estate, no wedding, no father, just the gentle rise and fall of Kaden’s breathing beside me, soothing and steady, grounding me in a reality that feels borrowed from someone else’s life.
I roll onto my side, watching him sleep. His hair is mussed, jaw shadowed with stubble, features softer than I’ve ever seen. I reach out, tracing the scar that cuts across his collarbone. He stirs, eyelids fluttering, and catches my hand in his. For a moment, we’re suspended in this hush, the world narrowed to the heat between our palms and the slow, lazy rhythm of our breaths.
“Could get used to this,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.
“Me too,” I whisper. I let myself imagine: waking up like this every morning, safe, wanted, free. But the memory of last night’s panic—and the reality of the world outside—prick at the edges of my mind.
Kaden’s thumb strokes my knuckles. “We’re safe for now,” he says, as if reading my thoughts. “But I have to go out soon, I have an errand to run.”
A tightness curls in my chest, but I force a smile. “Just five more minutes?”
He grins, pulling me closer. “Five. You drive a hard bargain.”
We lie like that, pressed together, stealing softness from a hard world. For the first time in a long time, I believe escape might really be possible.
The next time I wake, I reach across the bed feeling for Kaden, but come up empty. Eyes open, I see the space next to me is empty. “Kaden?” No response.
I climb out of bed and search the rest of the cabin, but again, come up empty. What the fuck?
My gaze lands on the piece of paper on the bedside table. I pick it up and read the messy scratch of words, but it does nothing to erase my confusion.
Kaden is gone, but he’ll be back. That’s the context of the note—just a single line, scrawled in his hurried handwriting: 'Back soon. Trust me.' No time frame or reasoning, just that he’ll be back soon.
