“Hold on.”
After a short pause, Darius’s voice comes from the background. “Anne, I’m here.”
“Why is Kain at my apartment? Did he escape?”
“I let him go.” Darius’s voice is calm, measured. “We’ve reached an agreement. He’s cooperating fully with our investigation.”
I’m baffled by that response. “But he tried to kidnap Violet!”
“Yes. He’s under supervision. Anne,” Darius says slowly, “it would be best if he stayed with you for the next few days.”
The words don’t make any sense. “What?”
“I’ll let him explain the details, but an organization has been controlling him and may be watching his apartment. It isn’t secure. But your place is part of pack housing. It’s safer for him to hide where they won’t be able to look. This was Violet’s idea, actually. She thinks you both need this.”
“No.” The word is immediate and automatic despite my confusion about this…organization? “Absolutely not. I am not letting him stay here.”
“Anne, I understand this is difficult—”
“Difficult? He used me! He—” My voice breaks completely.
“I know. Believe me, I know. But we need him alive and functional if we’re going to take these people down. And that means keeping him somewhere safe.”
“Keep him in prison.”
“We can’t do that.” Darius’s tone softens. “The organization can’t know he’s been compromised, so we need him to be spending time with you. That way, it can seem like he is still working for them. I’m asking you to do this for the pack, Anne. For Violet. Just for a few days while we figure out a more permanent solution.”
I look at Kain, still standing between the kitchen and the living room with his hands raised, his expression a mixture of pain and desperate hope.
“And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll respect that. I won’t force you. But Anne”—another pause—“I think you need to hear what happened from him.”
I don’t want to hear it. Don’t want his explanations or his excuses. Still, I can’t bring myself to refuse since it will help protect Violet.
“Fine,” I relent. “A few days. That’s it.”
“Thank you. Call me if you need anything.”
The line goes dead.
I set the phone down, but I don’t lower the knife.
Kain hasn’t moved, hasn’t tried to come closer. He’s just watching me with those intense eyes that used to make me feel safe. Now, they just make me feel hollow.
“You can stay,” I tell him, my voice flat. “But you sleep on the couch. And you don’t come near me. Don’t talk to me unless I talk to you first. And don’t—” My voice breaks again. “Don’t touch me.”
His expression crumbles. “Anne—”
“Those are my terms. Accept them or leave.”
“I accept them,” he says, nodding. “Whatever you need.”
He lowers his hands, his gaze sweeping over me, and I see the exact moment he registers the unkempt hair, rumpled clothes, and dark circles under my eyes that I know must be prominent even in the low light.
“When did you last eat?” His tone is soft, concerned, and it makes anger flare hot in my chest.
“Don’t.”
