I should leave.
I might not be safe when he—
Suddenly, he gasped and blinked. Staring at me as if I’d just appeared in front of him and hadn’t been there all along. He shook his head and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry, I...” He flinched. “I’m tired.”
I kept my distance, wary. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” His eyes were tight as he met mine. “Just a lapse, that’s all.”
“A lapse?”
“Yeah, you know.” He waved his arm as if people turned vacant all the time. And who knew? Perhaps they did if they’d lived in this house of horrors for as long as he had. “Nothing to worry about.” Tapping the bath, he commanded, “Come here and lie back.”
“What? Why?”
His eyebrows drew together. “Because I got you dirty, and it’s up to me to wash you clean.”
My heart skipped. “You didn’t get me dirty. I told you.”
“And I told you that I hate myself for what I did.” He splashed the surface, sending droplets glittering in the night. “Come here. Let me try to fix this.”
I studied him, staying where I was.
The thought of him bathing me? Of washing my hair and lavishing me with sweet attention? Ugh, it was enough for me to forget the messy few weeks and trust. No one had ever done that for me. I’d never allowed anyone close enough to offer such a thing.
But Kas...he’d offered because he viewed himself as beneath me. He’d captured me and treated me like he’d been treated, proving that those traumatized and twisted had every capacity to repeat the vicious circle. So how was he...changing? How had he morphed from someone who commanded I kneel and suck him to a man desperately hoping I’d agree to let him wash my hair?
Oh, Kas, what the hell are you doing to me?
“Gemma, I...” He sighed. “I give you my vow; I won’t hurt you. I don’t have any way of proving that vow, and I understand if you don’t believe me, but...” He swallowed and added almost shyly. “I care for you, so please...let me try to show you.”
I hugged myself as my heart grew so big it crushed against my ribs. His openness and honesty made dangerous things bubble inside me. All those questions I’d swallowed, all those subjects I daren’t chase, clambered for freedom.
Could I ask?
Would he answer?
“On one condition,” I whispered.
He flinched but nodded. “What’s the condition?”
I paused, gathering up more courage from the stars twinkling in the dark. “That you talk to me.”
“Talk?” He frowned.
“That you tell me about...” I pushed toward him, settling with my back in front of him. “Your family. Why you’re alone. What they did to you. Why you never left.”
I felt him tense behind me, but I didn’t look back. This was his choice. He had to know how poignant this moment was. If he chose to give me those pieces of himself, then...we would never go back to what we’d been.
We’d be friends.
We’d be more.
There’s no going back, Kas.
If you speak to me, I won’t stand a chance against you.
Give me your past, and that’s it. You’ll have a champion in me forever. You’ll never be alone. You’ll be loved and—
“Okay,” he breathed, almost choking on the word. “I’ll try.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I’D AGREED TO DO something I didn’t know if I had the strength to deliver.
Terror siphoned through me. I didn’t want to hear her first question. I needed time. I needed distance and space, and why the fuck was the night suddenly burning up with connection? Why couldn’t I breathe without her scent flowing into my lungs? Why couldn’t I look at her without my entire body hardening?
It took fucking everything not to give in to the screaming in my heart and take her.
She’s mine.
I wanted so fucking much to believe that, to deserve that.
But if I told her what I was, what I’d done, it would be over.
Panic made my thoughts scramble.
I was right when I’d believed I was schizophrenic.
I was even more sure now.
That was why my mind sought emptiness in brief flashes. Why one moment, I wanted to be vulnerable and open with her, and the next, I wanted to shove her away from me and keep her tied up in the dark.
I couldn’t cope, and all these steps toward boundaries I wasn’t brave enough to cross were pushing me into sporadic forgetfulness.
Fuck, I was weak.
I didn’t want to have such splits in my psyche. I didn’t want to be black and monstrous, craving her cries as they somehow healed mine, all while drowning beneath shyness and curiosity, wanting so fucking much to know her.
To answer her questions and ask so many of my own. To actually want to remember what she told me and imagine a world outside of this valley.
I’d trapped her body, but I hadn’t been allowed access to her mind. And I wanted to. Christ, how I wanted to.
Fear made me snappish, and I placed a none-too-gentle hand on the crown of her head, pushing a little too hard. “Duck under. Get wet.”
She shivered. Her skin reacted with goosebumps. Clear evidence she was as aroused as me—or was it fear? Would she be wet if I dipped my hand between her legs? Did she know how throbbingly hard I was while kneeling behind her?
Maybe it wasn’t just me suffocating in this strange and scary night.
Suffering seemed inevitable at this point. Whenever we were close, we reacted. It didn’t matter if we were fighting or ignoring one another; our bodies didn’t seem to care about our words or worries.
Mine definitely didn’t. All it cared about was Gemma was created from the same molecules as me. Our blood was destined. Our bones were fated. That bond had happened against my control. It’d happened the very fucking moment I’d met her.
It was just the other shit I kept ruining that kept us apart.
She allowed me to push her underwater, drenching her hair and giving me time to choke on an exhale without her hearing how scared I was.
My mind relived our kiss from before.
How I’d slipped my tongue into her mouth and almost collapsed at her feet. I’d kissed countless guests in countless areas, yet I’d never been completely undone by anyone else. She didn’t taste like anything on earth. She was rich and sweet and good. Her kindness had a flavor. Her sweetness had a scent. Everything about her drowned my senses, and I wanted her.
Goddammit, I wanted her.
Don’t drown her then, you fool.
Ripping my hand away from her head, she shot back to the surface, wiping her face free from sheeting water.
Her presence, her trust—it all punched me right in the chest.
Gemma had always affected me. From that very first trespass—I’d vibrated with hunger, hatred, and hope. I’d felt that kick. That belief. That unsurpassable knowledge that she was different.
So why couldn’t I accept that? Why did it scare me so fucking much?
“What’s your favorite food?” she asked softly, ripping my attention to her and making me laugh in a weird, lost kinda way.
“My favorite food? That’s your first question?”
She turned and looked at me, her face absolutely stunning in the dark. Her hair floated on the surface while her body remained submerged. The shadows of fire danced over her cheekbones, the silver of moonlight twinkled over her brow, and the refracting blues of the water made her eyes glow bright with hazel caution.