Page 5 of Death Kiss

And Kat’s more than enough.

Kat, and Ellie, and my foster parents.

And our greedy ginger tabby cat, Reggie. Though the little fucker looks like he’s plotting my demise every time I’m not holding treats.

Nobody wants their daughter with a broken man. No matter how hard we try to paste me back together, piece by bloody piece. They take one look at the scars and see the crimes of my past etched into my flesh. Crimes largely against me, not my own.

‘Slow down, Liam,’ Kat says, tugging my hand.

‘Sorry.’ I know I’m being abrupt, and I hate it. Taking a deep breath, I align my steps with hers and try on a smile that doesn’t fit right.

The walk back is quiet, me stewing and Kat giving me space.

Kat and Ellie’s flat is now ours. The key doesn’t always feel real in my palm; the idea of belonging somewhere still feels so very alien. Ellie’s room has been taken over by our floofball in charge, Reginald. Not that I’d want to sleep in a different room than Kat. Hell, I like to sleep with her enveloped in my arms, as close as humanly possible.

The alley swallows us up in its brick oesophagus as we head for the door, tension bouncing off the walls until I feel like I can’t breathe.

Reggie meets us at the door in a ball of orange indignation. It’s like we’ve been gone for weeks, not a few hours, leaving him to starve. Kat nearly trips as he weaves around her legs, meowing pitifully. I reach down and scritch him under the chin, which he allows for a few seconds before butting me away and trotting towards the fridge. His holy place. Land of ham and cheese.

‘Yes, yes, you poor neglected meatball. Never fed. Just a poor, starving boy.’ Kat’s voice is soothing, and I wish it was for me.

Fetching the kibble from the kitty-proofed cupboard (we learned the necessity of that the hard way). Reggie does an impressively athletic tumble and pounces off Kat’s legs, abandoning her at the first sound of dry food hitting the bowl.

‘Little toerag,’ Kat says through an indulgent smile. She moves to the kettle, fills it, and hits the switch before throwing teabags into mugs. I still haven’t told her I’m not a huge fan of tea, but I’d probably drink a mug full of her spit if she offered it. Anything to see her happy. So I’ll drink tea instead of panty coffee, and revel in the fact she’s made it for me.

Reggie scowls as I pet him; any distraction from devouring his meaty pebbles is an act of treason. Mrs Elliott’s disgusted expression flashes into my head, and a fresh wave of anxiety makes me sweat.

‘Why haven’t you told them about me?’ I ask.

Kat stills, the teaspoon halting in the mug. Guilt itches at my throat when her shoulders droop.

‘I’m not ashamed of you,’ she says, turning to face me. ‘Though I can imagine it might have felt like that.’

Abandoning the tea, she crosses the small kitchen and slips her arms around my waist, blinking up at me through her long lashes. The warmth of her body against mine is like the fastest medicine possible. It’s like her touch goes beyond my skin and filters down to my bones.

‘You knew they’d hate me,’ I say.

‘No. I knew they don’t deserve the chance to treat you like this. Anything that doesn’t fit in their perfect little Stepford box, they ruin. Every time I considered telling them, I couldn’t. I know who they are. I know how little my happiness means if it doesn’t align with their views.’ Kat looks so sincere, her cheeks flushing as she speaks.

‘You were protecting us?’

‘Half protecting, and half afraid. It’s like I’m a kid still around them.’ She brushes her lips over mine, the gentlest kiss that has my muscles unclenching. ‘At best, they’ll try to change you. At worst, they’ll try to get rid of you. Neither is an option.’

‘You want to keep me?’

‘Not just keep you. To live like a little limpet attached to you until we’re both old and grey. I don’t belong to them anymore. I’m yours. All yours.’ Kat traces her fingers up my spine. ‘Only yours. And you’re mine.’

Her words flare hot in my chest, consuming me all over again. Our months together haven’t lessened my obsession with her. If anything, I’m more infatuated with her than ever. Proximity to her has deepened my adoration for every part of her. Her sweet smiles and filthy glances. The way she studies so hard at a subject she fucking hates because walking away isn’t an option for her. The way she sings show tunes in the shower when she’s happy and dips into millennial emo archives when she’s annoyed. The love she shows Ellie, and me, and Reggie. The way she has that dark edge beneath her sunshine that meets me on a level instead of being horrified by what I am, and what I’ve been.

‘Show me,’ I demand, my throat thick with flaring lust. Lust that so often washes over me with an intensity that still surprises me. No matter how much of her I have, it’s never enough.

There’s no hesitation. Kat drops to her knees right there in the kitchen, unbuckling my belt while looking up at me like butter wouldn’t melt.

It would fucking fry, I tell you.

Leaning back, I watch as she pulls me free of my boxer shorts, my dick thick in her hand. Her tongue darts over her lips as she eyes the silver at the tip before licking me slowly.

‘Fuck,’ I groan, spreading my hands against the countertop. Reggie finishes inhaling his food and darts off to his room, giving a disgusted meow.