Page 19 of Faded Rhythm

King

She bolts.

One second, she was frozen, wide-eyed, and barely breathing, and the next, she’s lunging for the door.

But I’m faster.

I wrap my arms around her from behind, pinning her in place.

“No!” she screams, thrashing against me like a wild animal. “Let me go! I have to get them! I have to. King, please!”

Her heel slams into my shin. I grunt but keep my hold on her. She writhes harder, nails digging painfully into my forearm, her back arching, her whole body trembling with desperation. Her sobs are guttural and animalistic. The sound of her grief and fear unsettles me.

“He’ll tell them I’m dead! He’s gonna tell them!”

My arms tighten. “He won’t.”

“Yes, he will!”

“Sable, listen. He won’t because he knows you’re alive.” My voice is firm and sharp. “It wouldn’t make any sense for him to tell them that.”

She goes still for a beat, breathing hard, chest heaving. Then, softly, she says, “You know what he’s capable of.”

“With you,” I say gently. “Not his own daughters. But listen, there’s a way to stall him.”

Her body shivers against mine. “What is it?”

“Are you ready to hear it?”

She nods.

“And if I let you go, you’re gonna stay calm?”

Another nod.

Slowly, carefully, I loosen my grip.

And she goes feral.

Her teeth sink into the flesh of my hand so fast and so hard, pain shoots up my arm like a live wire.

I yell, “Fuck!” as she slips out of my grasp and scrambles to the door like her life depends on it.

“Sable!”

I explode forward, beating her to the door by inches.

I catch her mid-stride, sweep her off her feet, and slam us both down onto the carpet. She lands with a gasp underneath me, kicking, scratching, fighting like hell.

But I’m stronger.

Her little fists pound into my chest. Her knees jerk up, trying to buck me off. I pin her wrists above her head, panting hard, trying to keep us both from getting hurt.

Finally, she breaks. All the fight leaves her, and her body goes limp beneath mine. She stares up at me, eyes glassy, lips parted, shaking like a scared bird.

“Sable,” I say, shifting my grip. I like the way she looks in this position, but now isn’t the time. I let go of her wrists, bringing my hands to her face instead.

“I know you’re scared. I get it. But running out there right now, without a plan, is a good way to walk into something you can’t walk back from.”

She swallows hard.

“Your sister,” I remind her. “She lives in a gated community, right?”

She nods.

“Call her and tell her to let the guard know not to let anybody in without her approval. Especially Brett.”

I brush a tear from her cheek. Her skin is warm beneath my thumb. Soft, too.

She stares up at me, wounded and exhausted, and I suddenly realize how close we are.

Her chest is flush against mine, our legs tangled. I feel the shape of her beneath me, every inch, every curve, every subtle shift of her body. And I know she feels me, too.

Because I’m hard.

It’s impossible not to be.

My body has betrayed me. My mind is screaming at me to move, to not cross this line, but the way she feels…her warmth, her softness, her nipples brushing my chest, even her fucking eyes…I’m powerless to fight it.

She’s still, almost like she’s paused herself to prepare for what’s next. I wonder if it feels as inevitable to her as it does to me.

I lower my head slowly, giving her plenty of time to stop me.

She doesn’t.

I press my lips to hers.

They’re soft. Warm. Wet. Welcoming. My eyes close as I give in to the feeling.

Our lips part. When her tongue brushes against mine, tentative, then sure, I swear I feel the ground move beneath us.

She moans. Barely. A soft, needy sound that sends a violent shudder through my body.

I break the kiss and pull away. Because I can’t do this again. Not like this.

Despite her newfound freedom, she doesn’t move from her spot on the floor. She sits there, dazed, lips parted. Then slowly, she lifts her fingers to her mouth, pressing them against the lips I just tasted like she’s not sure the kiss actually happened.

I clear my throat. “Call Ebony.”

She nods.

While she dials, I grab my phone and fire off a message to the little bitch. I didn’t like how familiar old boy was with Sable, but he was right on the money when he gave Brett that name.

Check with the police

The response comes almost instantly.

You have no idea who you’re fucking with

I smirk.

I guess that makes two of us

When Sable hangs up, she looks up at me, her eyes glassy.

“Ebony’s taking care of it.”

But her face is still tight with worry.

I scrub a hand down my face. “This isn’t going at the pace it needs to.”

She looks relieved as if I’ve put words to something she’s been grappling with.

“What do we do?” she asks softly.

“Dig deep,” I say. “Think back. There has to be something.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t think of anything.”

And there it is again. Something in her body language that makes me doubt her. But I don’t say a word, I just wait for her to give me something I can use.

“What if…what if we get him before he gets me?”

My eyes narrow. “When you say get him…”

“Kill him,” she says matter-of-factly. “End this whole thing.”

The laugh comes bellowing out of me before I can stop it. It comes from somewhere way down deep, so loud and heavy it surprises both of us.

She blinks, then a slow smile tugs at her lips. “Wow, R2D2. I wanna be mad that you laughed at me, but I’m kinda happy to see you do it. I didn’t know you could .”

“It’s rare,” I admit. “But when something’s really funny, I laugh.”

“Why is it funny that I want him gone?”

“The funny part is that you used the word ‘we.’ Like you’d ever have any part of a murder.”

“Wouldn’t it be self-defense?”

“I’m not about to split hairs with you, Sable. You don’t know shit about killing.”

“Then tell me.”

I shake my head. “It’s not just pulling a trigger and walking away. There’s a weight to that shit. A cost. It’s as much a responsibility to take a life as it is to create one.”

That seems to sink in. Her eyes lock on mine. She’s studying me. Measuring the weight of my words. Then, softly, she speaks to me again.

“How many people have you killed?”

I sit on the edge of the bed. Staring down into her curious eyes, I tell her the truth. “I’ve lost count.”

She sucks in a breath.

“But I remember all of their faces,” I add. “Every single one.”

Faces. Places. Screams. They’re all imprinted on me. Sometimes I don’t notice them at all. Other times, they sting. Often, they sit on top of my chest, making it hard for me to get a breath.

But right now, with her, they don’t feel so heavy. For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel like I’m being crushed.

Knock, knock, knock!

I freeze.

Sable freezes.

Another knock. Much harder this time.

Except that wasn’t a knock. That was the heel of a shoe.

I jump to my feet, grab my gun, and stalk to the door.

I look through the peephole.

Nobody.

Shit .

They’re hiding.

I turn back to Sable, adrenaline coursing through me.

“He found us.”

Her eyes go wide. “How?”

I check the peephole again. Nothing. Then I think.

“He probably has a tracker on your car,” I mumble. “We need to move.”

“What if he’s out there waiting?”

I hate how small her voice sounds when she asks me that.

“Somebody probably is,” I admit. “But it doesn’t matter. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”

She stands, unsteady on shaky legs. “I trust you.”

“Good. Pack your stuff. Now.”

She scrambles for her bag.

I set my gun down and reach for my phone, sending a text to AJ.

I need another favor