“Yeah, I know. I also know that your parents handed all the money over to you for your education, or whatever you need to take you where you want to go in life. I get that you don’t want to use it all, but this isn’t some frivolous expenditure, it’s important. Plus, the payout isn’t enough to build the camp, anyway. You’re going to need to raise more capital for it to become a reality.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know all of that, but every single cent counts, which is why—”
“You don’t want to touch it. Yeah, I get it.”
“Okay, I’m glad we’re clear. And to answer your question for the billionth time, it wasn’t me. Or Dillon, for that matter—unless he’s gone rogue, which I highly doubt. Or anyone else connected to me, who I’ve knowingly co-opted to do this. I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.” I stared at him for a long moment. “How is she? How are both of you, actually?” We’d been keeping out of each other’s way since Rose was released from hospital a few days earlier.
“How the fuck do you think she is, after you almost killed her, and threatened to gun down her kid sister?”
“I walked right into that—I’m sorry.”
Kane sighed heavily, and for the first time, I noticed how tired he looked. He definitely wasn’t his usual self. He was normally the most “peppy” person in a room, but today he seemed worn out and ground down. Guilt piled on top of guilt as I looked at him.
“She’s okay under the circumstances. Her energy levels still aren’t what they should be—who knew that a concussion could be so debilitating? But other than that, she’s okay. Physically, anyway. Emotionally it’s a whole other ball game, and I really don’t know how well she’s doing on that level. She seems kind of okay, but I’m pretty sure she’s trying to put on a brave face for my benefit.”
“And you?” He’d stayed at Rose’s place every night, and would only return to the dorm to grab clothes and books when I was guessing he knew I wasn’t going to be around. He hadn’t been in any of the three classes that we shared, because they made up part of both our courses, so I presumed he was cutting them to avoid an awkward situation with me.
“I’m fine. The sutures did their thing, and have dissolved, or whatever the fuck. It’s still a little sore from time to time, but other than a mean scar, which chicks love, I can hardly tell anything even happened.” Little did he know that he’d changed in more ways than just the scar. I could see it when I looked at him. He looked older, not as in aged, but as in weary, and wary.
Chapter 7
Rose
“What the fuck is he doing here?” My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought it might tear through my ribs at any moment. I was almost more terrified than when I was standing in the warehouse with a rifle to my head. Even though there wasn’t a weapon around that I could see, somehow having them both in my space seemed ten times more threatening.
Of course, Kane had been in my space most of the previous week, returning to the shared dorm only to grab clothes, books, and any other shit he needed when he was guaranteed that Fox wouldn’t be there. But Fox was a different story. This was the first time I’d seen him since the day he’d tried to kill me, and now he was in my home.
I looked across to the window, trying to calculate whether I could get through it in time, if I needed to.
“You don’t need to take off down the fucking fire escape. Please. Just calm down.” I swore to God Kane could read my mind, sometimes. He was walking toward me slowly, as he spoke, like I was a jumper on the edge of a bridge.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. You remember that the last time I saw him, he tried to have me kill myself, right? He wants me dead, and you bring him here and expect me to do what? Invite him to sit down for milk and cookies?” The ferocity of my words almost scared even me, but I was glad—I wanted them to know that whatever they were planning, I wasn’t going down without a fight.
“No, obviously I understand your hesitation. I get it, I do. I’m just asking you to hear us out—no, hear me out—before you jump to any conclusions.” Kane was trying hard to placate me, but his words were having exactly the opposite effect.
“Oh my God. How can I have been so fucking stupid? I bought that bucket-load of crap you fed me, everything you told me about being in love with me, and wanting to protect me, and all of that shit. And all this time, what you really wanted to do was gain my trust again, so that the two of you could do whatever the fuck it was you had planned in the first place.” I paced the small kitchenette area, frantic with anxiety. “I should shoot myself in the head for being so epically fucking dumb, and trusting you after everything the two of you have done.”
“It’s not what it looks like. I promise.” Kane tried again to soothe my frazzled nerves with his words.
“Oh, it’s exactly what it fucking looks like. It’s you in my home with the guy who wants me dead.”
I’d backed myself into the corner of the kitchenette, and was wedged against the countertop— a move, I realized with hindsight, was a mistake. Kane didn’t stop walking, and I had nowhere to go.
I snatched the knife from the cutting board. I’d used it earlier to slice an apple for myself.
I jabbed it forward into the air between us. “Stay there. Don’t come any closer.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that. Not until you agree to listen to me. If that means I end up with a stab wound to match the bullet wound, then so be it.” He still had his hands up, and was speaking in a low, calm voice.
He looked and sounded genuine, but I was beginning to wonder if that wasn’t just their good-cop, bad-cop schtick. Speaking of which...I shot a glance over to Fox. He hadn’t moved since the door had opened with the two of them on the other side of it.
He was still standing on the threshold, with the door open behind him, holding his hands up in the same stance as Kane. He’d been silent the whole time, and remained that way, even as I watched him.
“He’s not coming in until you’re calm, and ready to listen, I promise.” While I’d been preoccupied looking at Fox, Kane had closed the gap between us, and was now pressed flush against me. He effortlessly knocked the knife out of my grasp, and I watched with horror as it spun through the air, and landed with a clatter in the sink. Fuck.
Panic swept over me in huge rolling waves, threatening to pull me under. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe properly, and as I tried to fill my lungs—unevenly gulping in mouthfuls of air that seemed to wedge in my throat as I inhaled them—my terror reached new heights.
“Shhh... baby, calm down. We’re not going to hurt you. Look.” He reached forward, and pressed both palms to my now tear-streaked cheeks.
“Listen, to me. You need to breathe, okay? Slowly in through your nose, out through your mouth. And look at me.” I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to be anywhere but there, looking at anyone but him, thinking about anything other than the fact that he had betrayed me so badly.
“Baby, look at me,” he urged again.