“Let’s get her off,” I tell Killian. I’m about to grab her under the arms, but Killian has another idea. He doesn’t even look at me; he just acts. Getting up, he leans down to her and lifts her hands to his neck. “Hold onto me,” he tells her, then wraps his arms around her and starts pulling.
I grab the lube from the side table, and when he lifts her a little, I squeeze a generous amount on my finger and smear it around her opening. I’m not sure how much relief it will offer since friction doesn’t seem to be the problem, but Jenna needs all the help she can get.
“Good girl,” Killian croons, lifting her a tiny bit more.
But when he tries to bring her another notch up, she cries, “No, stop.”
“I’ll stop,” he promises and pauses.
“Let me go.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I won’t let go. Just lean into me. I’ll hold you here until you’re ready.”
“Noo,” she wails but clings tighter to him anyway.
“Where does it hurt, Jenna?” I ask, caressing her back.
“My stomach.”
I sigh. That’s what I thought. She’s cramping. I’ll have to get her some painkillers, but I can’t leave her side. Not like this.
“Are you ready to go again?” Killian asks.
She makes a tiny nod against his shoulder, sniffing and whimpering, but no longer sobbing.
It takes several rounds of Killian lifting her a little, Jenna breaking into more sobs, then waiting for her to calm, until Killian finally gets her free.
The moment she stands on her own two feet, clinging to Killian for stability, the situation dawns on him. His features draw tight, his cold facade returning, and he loosens his arm around her, about to hand her over to me.
“Donotlet her go like this,” I tell him in a low warning.
His jaw hardens, but he firms his grip on her.
“Take her to the couch and sit with her,” I say in an uncompromising tone.
He gnashes his teeth, but I can tell the need to take care of her lingers as he carefully lifts her into his arms and carries her across the room.
I go to get painkillers, some juice, and a little chocolate. When returning, I pause at the door, watching for a moment, Killian unaware of my presence. His jaw is still hard, eyes angry, but he’s holding Jenna almost as tightly as she’s holding on to him. He needs this, but he can’t let anyone in. I guess I get it. For years after his mother left—actually, ever since—I kept relationships casual. But with Jenna, opening up has come naturally. I’m not sure what it is, whether it’s her innocent, trusting nature and the way she’s growing dependent on me, or if it’s the amount of power I hold over her because of the way I got her here. I guess it’s really just two sides of the same coin.
I linger, letting Killian have this moment, but when Jenna squirms and says, “It hurts,” I go in. As I expected, Killian loosens his grip on her. The moment I sit down beside them andset the things I was carrying on the side table, he lifts her out of his lap and into mine. She easily sinks into my embrace, and I’m relieved at feeling her opening up to my comfort as I give her the painkillers and hold her close.
“Killian,” Jenna says just as he’s about to leave the room.
He pauses and turns.
“Thank you.”
The look in his eyes just before he turns on his heel is pure anger. A few minutes later, I hear the front door slam, and I don’t see Killian the rest of the day.
***
It’s six in the morning when the sound of the front door tells me Killian is back. I’ve barely slept all night, too worried after having called and texted him several times without a response.
I quickly slip out of bed, telling Jenna to go back to sleep when she stirs, and grab my robe. Tying the belt, I half-run down the hall and up the stairs.
“Where have you been?” I say when I see Killian crossing the landing.
“School.” He proceeds to his bedroom, but at least he doesn’t slam the door on me.
