Page 24 of Kiss Me Honey Honey (To Love a Psycho #2)

chapter twenty-thre e

Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Kenny couldn’t function.

The irony wasn’t lost on him. Sitting in the sterile, clinical hallway of Ryston Hospital’s Accident and Emergency wing, surrounded by doctors and nurses trained to keep people alive, yet he felt like he was dying. He hunched forward, digging his elbows into his knees, clutching his hair as though he could rip the panic out of his skull, and tried to focus on his breathing.

Inhale. Exhale. But no matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t working. Every inhale was jagged, every exhale shallow, and the thought kept hammering in his mind: What if I hadn’t got there in time?

The scene in the lab replayed in vivid, horrifying loops. Aaron crumpled on the floor, pale face streaked with tears and whatever chemical cocktail Peter had unleashed on him. The sound of his ragged breathing, barely there, faint and struggling, burned into Kenny’s brain. Turned him feral. Rabid . And he’d launched an attack on Peter, cracking him over the head with a stool, then kicking him while he was down for good measure. With Peter rendered unconscious, Kenny attended to Aaron. He’d done everything he could. Flushed Aaron’s face and airways, called for an ambulance, and dragged him out of that hellhole. But was it enough?

He felt sick thinking about all the what ifs. What if he’d been too late? What if he’d ignored Aaron’s call? The thought left him raw and bleeding. He’d considered not answering, too caught up in his work, too distracted. God help him, he’d nearly made the worst mistake of his life.

Why the fuck had Aaron gone there?

Kenny already knew the answer to that. Because Aaron had a goddamned saviour complex. He couldn’t help himself. Aaron was driven by a relentless, misguided need to right the wrongs of his parents. To undo the monstrous legacy they’d left behind. As if Aaron believed he could balance the scales of justice, even if it cost him his own life. It was almost noble, if it wasn’t so self-destructive. But Aaron wasn’t doing it for anyone else, not really. He was doing it because he thought he didn’t matter. He believed he was expendable.

He wasn’t.

Because Kenny couldn’t bear the thought of his life without Aaron in it. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind spiralling, thoughts careening into the abyss. Aaron didn’t see how much he was worth, how much he mattered. Didn’t see the hole he’d leave behind if he was gone. And the truth slammed into Kenny with the force of a freight train: I can’t lose him. I won’t lose him.

If the worst happened—if Aaron didn’t make it—Kenny didn’t know what he’d do. He’d spent so long convincing himself he was in control, that he could keep his feelings compartmentalised, but Aaron had destroyed that illusion. As Kenny had always known he would, the moment he let him.

“Are you ready for me to destroy your life yet, doc?”

Aaron had destroyed his life. His carefully constructed life where he only had to think about himself. Where he was numb. Coasting. Now he was a mess of emotions. Floundering. Scared . The thought of losing Aaron was unbearable, a black void he couldn’t imagine stepping into. He’d burn the world to ash if it meant keeping Aaron with him. He deserved to live. And he deserved to know that he did. To be told. Over and over. He mattered. Mattered to him .

This had to be love.

Because it hurt too much not to be.

“Hey.”

That voice drew him out of his spiralling thoughts and Kenny looked up to see Jack, his expression measured but presence heavy with meaning. Kenny inhaled, trying to draw strength from him being there, but it didn’t work. Jack being called meant both good and bad.

Jack sank into the chair beside him. He didn’t speak. Instead, focusing on the posters plastered across the corridor. All cheerful reminders about handwashing and stopping the spread of infection. The irony.

“He’ll live.” Jack broke the silence with a weary exhale.

Kenny fell back in his seat, the tension in his shoulders easing by a fraction. “Peter?”

“Yeah.”

“Shame.”

Jack gave him a wry glance. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

A bitter laugh escaped Kenny’s lips, and he scrubbed a hand down his face.

Jack clasped his hands in his lap. “Unsure whether it was all the chemicals he’s been messing with or how hard you hit him over the head, but he confessed.”

Kenny arched an eyebrow.

“Everything.” Jack nodded as if endorsing the unbelievable. “Even murders we didn’t know about. He’s been experimenting for a while. There have been near misses, too. He’s given us names. Girls he drugged who didn’t die. Also admitted to a couple of dogs with his testing. Buried them in his back garden. We’ll be liaising with other forces to build the final body count. Murder. Attempted murder. GBH. He’ll be in prison for the rest of his life.”

“And he’ll rot there, unable to get the help he actually needs. He’s insane, Jack. He needs to be in Rampton.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Some people are beyond help, Kenny.”

“If we believe that, we might as well bring back capital punishment.” Kenny gave Jack a hard stare. “What we need to do is stop the cycle before it begins. Catch them the first time around. Why didn’t those survivors come forward? Why wasn’t he caught then ? Given the help he needed before it spiralled into this .” He gestured to the hospital room where Aaron was fighting for his life, then shook his head with the sheer annoyance of it all. “Rarely does a person start with murder. It’s a progression. Stepping stones. We’ve seen it, studied it. Fuck, Jack, we teach it. I teach it.”

Jack’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “Go appeal to the Home Office for a bigger budget, then. Let me know how that works out for you.”

A dry laugh escaped Kenny, but it was fleeting.

“One thing he was quite surprised about,” Jack said, voice casual. “Was why Aaron Jones believed himself to be Child A.” He flicked his gaze to him. “Don’t you think Aaron should know?”

Kenny said nothing.

Jack nudged his knee to Kenny’s. “It’ll be better coming from you than anyone else.”

Kenny stared at the floor as if the tiles held the answers he didn’t want to face.

“But I don’t envy you that conversation.”

“Yeah.”

Jack nudged him with his elbow. “You know, he is growing on me.”

“Why? Because he’s done your job for you twice now? ”

Jack chuckled, the sound light but laced with grudging admiration. “He’s still an absolute pain in my arse and gives me way too much paperwork. But…maybe his intentions are in the right place.” He softened. “And his heart. Which, right now, is in your hands.”

“Does this mean you won’t accuse him of murder next time?”

Jack smirked. “I didn’t say that.”

Before Kenny could respond, the door to the ward creaked open, and a nurse stepped out.

“Who’s here for Aaron Jones?”

Kenny shot to his feet. “Me.”

The nurse smiled, full of warmth and sympathy. “He’s stable.”

Relief hit Kenny like a tidal wave, knees threatening to buckle. He managed a quick glance at Jack, who gave him a small nod of encouragement, then without another word, Kenny followed the nurse down the corridor, heart pounding in anticipation. The sterile hum of the hospital room did little to ease the tension coiling in his gut as he approached Aaron’s bed. The sight of him—pale, motionless, platinum hair damp against the stark white pillow—was enough to rob the air from his lungs.

A doctor stood at the bedside, flipping his stethoscope around his neck.

“How is he?” Kenny asked.

“Stable.” The doctor folded his arms. “And extremely lucky to be alive.”

Kenny inhaled sharply, hearing a doctor confirm how close he’d been to losing Aaron hitting him hard.

The doctor studied him for a moment. “You’re the one who brought him in?

“Yeah. I found him.”

“And you’re his…?” The question lingered unfinished, but the implication was clear. Parent? Teacher? Friend? Lover ? And he swept his gaze over him, trying to place where he fit into Aaron’s world.

“Take what you need from me, lover.”

Kenny swallowed the word he wanted to use and made way for the only one that was acceptable. “I’m his…professor.”

The admission felt foreign, almost strange, because it didn’t belong. But what else could he say? Even if they were so much more than teacher and student. How could he explain their entanglement with a simple word? Their history. Their potential future. If they had one.

The doctor nodded, accepting the explanation without comment. “He’s been exposed to a neurotoxin, delivered through aerosol. A synthetic derivative of aconitine, a compound known for its potent effects on the nervous system. Once inhaled, it disrupts nerve signals, causing confusion, disorientation, and muscular paralysis. Left unchecked, it would have led to respiratory failure.”

Kenny’s stomach turned. “But he’s… he’s breathing now. By himself? That means he’s okay, right? He’ll be okay?”

“Yes, and no. The dose he inhaled wasn’t lethal. It was enough to bring him to the brink. Your actions likely saved his life. Flushing his face and airways slowed the toxin’s absorption, and the rapid response of emergency services ensured he received the treatment he needed. We administered antitoxin and provided respiratory support. He’ll likely experience lingering effects—fatigue, dizziness, and some short-term memory fog—but we don’t anticipate long-term damage.”

Kenny’s gaze dropped to Aaron’s hand.

“Had you been there even a minute later, we’d be having a very different conversation right now.” The doctor gave a curt nod. “Would you like the nurses to call his parents for you?”

That snapped Kenny out of his turmoil. “Ah, no. No, that’s okay. He’s…estranged. ”

“I see.” The doctor smiled. “He’s lucky to have a good pastoral team around him, then.”

“Thanks, doctor.”

“I’ll give you a moment.” The doctor then walked out of the room, leaving Kenny alone.

Kenny stepped closer to the bed, Aaron’s pale face and painfully shallow rise and fall of his chest, causing a lump to form in his throat. So he picked up Aaron’s limp hand, and it was cooler than he expected, but it was there, solid in his grip, and gently, almost reverently, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to Aaron’s knuckles. Then, closing his eyes, he sank into the chair beside the bed, keeping Aaron’s hand clasped in both of his, pressing it to his mouth as if it could stop the ache in his chest. He stayed like that, mind racing with everything he couldn’t say. Every word that felt too big or too small. Not that Aaron could hear him, even if he said any of it.

Then a faint, raspy voice broke the quiet. “That uni really takes their deadlines seriously.”

Kenny’s eyes snapped open, heart lurching as he stared at Aaron’s half-lidded eyes and the weak smirk playing on his lips. “ Aaron …”

“My professor, huh?” Aaron croaked, his voice hoarse but laced with dry humour. “Coming to my hospital bed to demand my assignment.”

Kenny let out a shaky laugh, relief crashing into him like a wave. “You were awake?”

“Whole time.”

“What would you have preferred I say?”

Aaron’s shrug was barely perceptible, eyelids fluttering with the effort to stay open. His voice came soft, tinged with a faint, bitter humour. “I don’t know. Maybe… ‘he’s the man I can’t live without.’ Keep it light. Easy breezy. Nothing too deep.”

Kenny let out a low, unsteady laugh, brushing his thumb over the back of Aaron’s hand. His heart ached with how fragile Aaron looked. Pale, drawn, but still trying to make light of everything, despite the undertone being so heavy.

“You scared the shit out of me.” Kenny let himself expose his fear and guilt because he needed Aaron to see . To know . To bear witness to who he was to Kenny. Not his student, nor his patient, nor protégé , not even a pain in his arse. But his lover . “Again.”

“I think I might be doing it on purpose.”

“I have no doubt.”

Aaron coughed. “Did we get him?”

“We got him.”

Licking his dry, cracked lips, Aaron stared down at his hand in Kenny’s, then he twisted his, placing them palm to palm, entwining their fingers. A simple yet poignant gesture that had Kenny squeezing him tighter and never, ever wanting to let him go.

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“Victims?”

“No final body count yet. We know of the three and a couple of dogs he used to test his compound on.”

“Dogs?” Aaron clenched his hand in Kenny’s. “Fucking hate him more now.”

“Maybe you’ll get a dog one day.”

“Yeah? I want a golden retriever.”

“Then you’ll have one.”

Aaron smiled, but it soon faded, and he stared at their combined hands, the cogs in his mind ticking over. “I’m… not Child A, am I?”

Kenny gritted his teeth. He knew the conversation had to happen, but he didn’t want to have it when Aaron was still bleeding. But nor could he dismiss Aaron’s need to know. “No.”

Aaron’s chest rose with his deep, shuddering breath. “Who is?”

Kenny hesitated. “Your sister. ”

There was another beat. More than a beat. An all-consuming silence where only the mechanical sounds from the machines surrounding Aaron’s bed drowned out Kenny’s thundering heart.

“Where is she?”

“She was sent to Ravenholm. A secure unit for traumatised children. After that, she went into the system. Much like you, she’ll be under witness protection.”

“I wasn’t an only child?”

“No. And when it became clear you didn’t know she existed, the authorities kept it that way.”

“You assessed her?”

“Yes.”

“Did you assess me?”

“No. They took you into care immediately. You were easier to place. Easier to protect. I had no contact with you.”

Kenny could see the wheels turning in Aaron’s mind, piecing it all together.

“She’s the one who lured Peter from the playground?” Aaron said. “The one he was trying to find, killing those who reminded him of her?”

“It appears that way.”

Aaron’s head sank into the pillow. “Was she actively involved in… what my parents did?”

Kenny hesitated, his heart breaking for the man before him. “Yes.”

Aaron closed his eyes, and a single tear crept out from the corner of his eye, carving a silent path down his cheek. Kenny swiped it away with his thumb, then stroked Aaron’s damp hair back from his forehead, trying to soothe him, even though he knew it was impossible.

Eventually, Aaron opened his eyes again. “I went through your files,” he said, cracking under the weight of his confession. “Found the stuff on Child A… thought it was me. So I stole it. ”

Kenny inhaled sharply, guilt stabbing through him. “I can see why you’d do that. And jump to that conclusion.”

“That’s how Taylor got hold of it. It’s my fault.”

“None of this is your fault. When information lands in the wrong hands, it’s easy for it to be misinterpreted. Taylor was na?ve to use it, and Carly was wrong to post it.” Kenny dipped closer. “Next time, just ask me.”

Aaron’s lips parted, voice trembling. “Who am I?”

“Aaron Jones.”

Aaron sniffed through a smile. “Who was I back then?”

“Child B.”

“Very clinical. How many of us are there?”

“Two.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kenny’s chest grew heavy with regret. “At first, it was because the authorities thought it was in your best interest not to know. And I agreed. Then… it was because I didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want you to carry that burden too. You already have enough survivor guilt. Enough pain. Sorrow. I wanted to protect you from all of it. Because I—” Love you “—care about you.”

“Care about Child B?”

“No.” Kenny shook his head. “I care, quite a fucking lot, about Aaron Jones. Because that’s who you are. The person you made yourself. The one you became with no influence from anyone but yourself. You’re infuriating. Insufferable. Wild and reckless. But, fuck all the world, you’re mine.”

Aaron’s lips grew into a smile. “Gonna prove that.”

“How?”

“Kiss me.”

Kenny hesitated for a fraction of a second, heart pounding. Then he cupped Aaron’s face, stroking his thumbs over the faint stubble on his jaw, and drank in how utterly beautiful he was. And when his lips met Aaron’s, the world fell away. Tentative and languid, Kenny kissed him. And if this was his last, he didn’t care. Because Aaron responded with equal fervour, curling his fingers around Kenny’s wrists to hold him there, above him, his mouth fixed to his.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, an apology, a declaration. And it sent Aaron’s heart monitor into overdrive. So Kenny let out a low, breathless chuckle, drawing back to calm Aaron to normal outputs and not alert the nurse.

“Easy,” he said, resting his forehead on Aaron’s and cradling his face. “Need you to get better. I want you back to destroying my life in the way only you can.”

Aaron smiled, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “You sure? Infuriating? Insufferable? Wild and reckless?”

Kenny gripped his face. “And mine.”