“So, you were in the system?”
“Yeah. We both were, so was our sister.”
It was a lot to take in that there was a woman they considered their sister. What must she be like? I didn’t know whether to be envious of the girl for her protectors or pity the girl for her gatekeepers, because surely both Killian and D fell into both categories.
“When I was younger, I used to wish I had gotten placed in the foster system instead of with my aunt and uncle,” I said quietly, voicing the private thought I had over the years but had never dared to say out loud. “Does that make me ungrateful?”
He huffed out a half snort. “No. All things considered, I can understand why you would have thought that, but honestly, Zoey—the system is hit and miss. Some kids get lucky and find a family they click with, get adopted and live the rest of their lives in a stable place. Some are not so lucky.”
“You weren’t lucky,” I whispered, saddened by what I knew in my gut to be true.
He was quiet for so long I thought he was done talking or he had fallen asleep on me. I was just about to get some rest when he finally spoke.
“I thought I was, once. It was about a year after I was first placed in the system. I was still messed up from what happened with my parents, and I had nightmares for a long time afterward. Sometimes, I’d wake up screaming and crying out for my mom in the middle of the night.” His voice took on a raspy tone like he was lost in a painful memory.
“There was this couple that had a kid about my age. They couldn’t have any more children and they wanted their son to have someone to play with, hang out with—a built-in best friend. You know?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, not wanting him to stop talking.
“They fostered me a few months—even talked to me about adoption. I’d gotten attached to the stability—the routine in their home provided me and what it felt like to have a brother, but I wouldn’t open up to parents. Adults were harder for me to trust.
“I was closed off and angry, and they gave up on me when it got hard. As a kid, my anger controlled me until I learned to control it, but by the time I learned how, it was already too late.
“The couple decided against adopting a troubled kid their son’s age and decided they wanted a younger child with less baggage. I got tossed back into the system with the stigma of a failed adoption attached to me.
“After that, they shuffled me from one home to another, never lasting long in one spot until they finally sent me to a group home, where I learned how to survive. That’s where I met D and eventually, we met our sister.”
“So, you got lucky in the end because you made a family of your own.”
“Yeah,” I could hear the sleepy smile in his voice. “I guess I did.”
#
The thrashing movementswoke me, but when I heard the low, guttural groan of anguish come from Killian, I came awake looking for the threat.
My eyes searched the room quickly, but found nothing, so I looked at his face and saw his eyes closed and the tense look on his face.Nightmares. He said he had them as a kid, but he didn’t mention that he still had them.
What happened to this dark, dangerous man that could cause him to hurt in his sleep? I shuddered at the thought. Whatever lurked in his past scarred his soul, and my heart ached for him.
He was on his side facing me, so I turned up on my side to face him, too. “Killian,” I said his name softly, trying to wake him from his dream.
The words he spoke came out more jumbled and unintelligible, but he was getting more and more agitated as the nightmare progressed. Without thinking about it, I pulled at the leash, dragging it along the top of the headboard. It could only move a few more inches before it met the decorative pole that divided the headboard in half, but that’s all I needed.
I pushed my body against his and looped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me as much as the slack would allow. “Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” My whispered words soothed and comfort him.
It didn’t escape me that I was ironically trying to soothe my kidnapper’s bad dreams. Part of me felt responsible for the dreams since I asked him about his childhood. I’d kicked up the memories and brought the ghosts back to haunt him. The other part of me just wanted to know how Killian became the man he was.
He still confused the shit out of me, and I still wanted him. As crazy as that sounded, I wanted him. I knew he could be gentle and caring because even in this situation, he’d embarrassed me and kidnapped me, but he never hurt me. In fact, he’d made sure I was comfortable, and that all my needs were met. If a girl was to get kidnapped, she could definitely do worse.
Killian’s body relaxed, and I heard him inhale deeply as his right hand reached up to my exposed hip. The feel of his hot palm against my skin made me gasp.
“You can’t keep begging for it, Zoey, and expect me not to give it to you,” he husked out before capturing my lips in a hard, passionate kiss.
Killian wedged a knee between my thighs and then rolled me onto my back, coming down on top of me, catching his weight on his arms below me. His tongue slid across mine hungrily. The rasp of his goatee against my chin was thrilling. I wanted to use my hands to touch him—to pull him closer, but the cuffs and leash held me captive, creating a different want within me.
The kiss was wild and all-consuming. I couldn’t think of anything but wanting more—needing more. Killian broke the kiss and rested his forehead on mine.
“You have to want this, Zoey. You have to choose this. If you don’t want this, say so now and I’ll get up and walk away.”
