Page 53 of Kill for a Kiss

My muscles tense. I don’t answer or move. I need to be careful. I need to understand what she’s really asking.

But then her gaze drops. “It’s just… I want to see your eyes better. They seem comforting.”

Comforting. The word lodges in my chest like a knife turned inward. Iknowwhat she means. Iknowwhat she’s remembering.Stanley. We have the same stupid eyes Kai handed down to us.

My jaw ticks. The warmth I felt moments ago becomes a bitter chill.

“You think so?” I ask, keeping my voice level.

She nods, barely. “They look like…” She cuts herself off. But I already know. It’shim.

I should let it slide. Tell myself this isn’t her fault. That Clo did this to her. That it’s just the drugs, the rewriting. But I can’t. Because deep down, I don’t want her to think of him when she looks at me. I want her to think ofme. To seeme.

Rage smolders inside me and dies. Panic takes its place, clawing at my ribs. What if she looks at me and regrets asking? What if all she sees is everything I’m not that he is? Stanley’s warm charm. I’m cold ache. I come with blood on my gloves and ghosts in my past.

Still, my hand hovers over my mask. My other hand twitches against the strap on the back. “Are you sure?” I ask.

She meets my eyes, piercing right into me. “Yes.”

Something breaks loose inside me. A tether snapped. And I know I’d do anything she asked me in this moment. So, without another thought, I remove the mask. Cool air hits my face, and I brace for the recoil in her expression. The fear, regret, orworse. But it never comes. She just looks at me. And then she reaches out with the barest touch, her fingers on my jaw, light as breath, but it absolutely scorches.

“Say something,” I whisper, sounding too raw, practically pleading.

Her lashes flutter. “I…was right.”

I tense. “About what?”

“Your eyes…they’re comforting,” she whispers. “And your voice…so much better when it’s clearer.”

Everything in me coils, then melts. Her words slide through the cracks in my armor. She meant it. Somehow, she meant it. She looks at me like I’m safe, like I’mhers. It’s all I want to be.

Her eyes flutter closed, a smile tugging at her lips. I just sit there, watching her and burning with need. I don’t move. I barely breathe. She keeps making me fumble, making mefeel.

I rise slowly and walk away. I give her the privacy of the room—everywhere is hers now—because I want her to know I’ll protect her space, her silence, her trust.

And maybe, deeper than I’ll admit, I just need a moment to breathe. She’s not afraid of me. That should be enough. It has to be. I keep repeating that as I walk into the kitchen. As I pace, mask in my hand, the imprint of her touch still burning against my jaw. She isn’t afraid. That means I’m doing something right.Right?

Then why does it hurt? Why does it feel like her quiet trust is torching me from the inside out? Why does her softness cut me worse than a blade ever could?

I tell myself this is part of the plan. That I’ve gotten her out. That I’m keeping her safe. But the truth is—I want more. So much more. And that’s the part I don’t know what to do with.

***

By night, my mask’s still off. I’m sitting in a chair outside her room. My elbows rest on my knees, my hands laced, my thoughts fixed on one thing.

Elle. She’s on the other side of this door, wrapped in blankets and haze, her body fighting what Clo did to her, what Stanley let happen.And I’m here. Because she’s mine to protect now. Because I need to be here for her.

The safe house is quiet. And I can’t tear my eyes from the door. From the space where I last saw her, resting against the pillow, fevered, and whispering my name. It didn’t sound like a cry for help. It sounded like a prayer.

I press my knuckles to my mouth, trying to force the aching desire down. I want to go back in there, slide into the sheets beside her, feel her warmth against me.

But then my ears pick up on a sudden sound. It should be silent here, especially at night. No one knows about this place. But the sound is definitely heading this way.

I hear a rumbling sound in the distance, coming closer and closer, when everything around me should be quiet.

At first, it feels like a fever-dream echo. From lack of sleep, maybe. Or from downing too many underground energy drinks. But no. It’s getting closer. Louder.

No one should be here.No oneshould know this place exists. Elle is resting. There shouldn’t be any goddamn noise.