Page 69 of Kill for a Kiss

He doesn’t answer. He just stares off into the trees, shoulders drawn tight. His face is a wreck. His lip’s split and bloody. One eye purpling and red. He looks like a ghost of himself.

Withdrawals. It’s crawling under his skin. He’s shaking in the same way Elle did before the last fever broke. He’s a bit behind her, probably always has been.

Then it hits me. Elle and Stanley, both of them trapped in the same hell Clo built. I can’t deny that maybe he needs my help, and I needhis. Maybe protecting Elle—and protecting her from what’s coming—means more than just burning Clo’s empire to the ground. I already did that. Clo’s web is ash. I salted the earth, left nothing standing.

But there are still pieces left. Loose threads that won’t burn so easily. Lix slipped through my fingers. And if Clo has contingency plans, ways to rebuild and to restart her supply, I can’t let that happen.

My priority right now is Elle. And she’s mine to keep safe, even if that means making Stanley do the work I can’t, since my focus is on her.

I turn on my heel and walk toward the cabin. Behind me, after a moment, I hear Stanley follow. I don’t look back. I know he’d do anything to see her. And I… I would do worse. Already have.

19

Stan

I follow Sterling, even though my head’s a mess. Feels like it’s been years since I last saw Elle, when it’s only been weeks, really. But when your body’s screaming for a fix and your brain’s a fire hazard, time stops meaning anything.

I’ve been through worse. But nothing’s fucked me up like this.

Usually, I don’t overthink things. I justdo. I move. I live in the chaos and figure out what broke later. But right now, my hands are shaking, and I can’t tell if it’s the drugs leaving my system or just the thought of seeing her again.

I rub my shirt across my face to clear the dried blood. Useless, but it makes me feel a little less like some creature that crawled out of a grave.

Sterling doesn’t look back. He doesn’t speak or glance over his shoulder to check if I’m still following. That’s fine. I don’t have much else to say either.

Then we break through the tree line. And she’s there.

Elle. Standing on the porch, wrapped in one of Sterling’s shirts that’s way too big on her, hanging off one shoulder like it belongs there. Like he belongs there. On her. Around her.

My heart stops. It just seizes in my chest.

She’s looking at us. At me, maybe. And I don’t know what she sees. A ghost? A mistake? Someone she used to know? And before I can say a single thing, Sterling’s already moving. Fast. So fucking fast.

He’s up the steps, touching her face as if it’s his. Checking her as if she’s his. Asking if she’s cold, if she’s hurting. Like he’s the only one who gets to worry. She barely nods before he brings her inside. And I’m still outside, watching the door slowly shut. Almost. It stays open, sorta like it’s waiting for me.

I’ve seen Sterling tear people apart without blinking. Seen him gut a man with more calm than most people butter toast. But I’ve never seen him like this. And it guts me in a whole different way.

I force myself inside. Every step feels heavier than the last. I don’t know if I’m gonna puke or pass out, but I sure as hell don’t plan on leaving. Not when I still have things to say to Elle that I’ve been daydreaming of telling her for the past however many days that it took to find her.

Sterling’s already got her in this cabin, covered in bubble wrap, pretty much, and tucked into his arms. Fussing, that’s the word. He’s fuckingfussing. I don’t know what bothers me more. That she’s letting him or that he’s good at it.

I stay quiet. I’m not gonna make a scene. Not when she still hasn’t looked at me without him in the picture. But then she turns, and our eyes meet. Andshit, nothing could’ve prepared me for that. Not even all the daydreaming I’ve done, where I ask for her forgiveness, and she gives it with a tender kiss that takes my breath away like it always has before.

In that second, I… I forget everything. The bruises. The cold. The withdrawals. Because that look in her eyes? That tiny, impossible flicker of recognition? It lights me up. Burns through me worse than a drug-induced fever.

Does she remember any of it? The time we spent together? The times I warmed her up so she’d stay by my side? Or is all of that gone? God, I hope not. Because even if I was a mess, even if I got too comfortable back home, playing loyal little lapdog…I never stopped caring. Never stopped wanting her.Elle.

And damn, she’s still so beautiful it hurts. She’s the type of beauty that doesn’t scream for attention. It creeps up on you. Like a melody that sticks in your head and ruins every other song after it. She’s soft curves and big eyes. She’s warmth and fire and something I never deserved but still want so bad.

But now she’s in Sterling’s cabin, wearing his clothes, sipping his tea. I stare into her eyes, taking her in. I lean closer, testing if she’ll move. She doesn’t.Shit. It’s like I got knocked right in the gut. All the crap I’ve been dealing with—going cold turkey, running through the woods, not knowing what the hell I was even doing—none of that compares to this.

Seeing her after all this time, after all the shit we’ve been through, it does something to me. Something I don’t have the words for. Except all I know is I feel light. Kinda stupid, I know. My heart’s doin’ this wild thing, like it forgot how to beat right.

And I can’t help but wonder some more—what does she remember? Our dates? Our first kiss? Our time rolling around in my bed? In hers? Until my clothes smelled like her, flowers and baked treats. Everything sweet and pretty. Just like she is.

Or am I just some sorry bastard holding onto something that was never mine to begin with?

I can’t stop staring at her. At her long, wavy brown hair that frames her face perfectly. In the way her big blue eyes hold something I can’t reach, something I’m not even sure I deserve to.