Kian, Page 25

  that night. That’s why I came to your house that day. A few hours later, and he would’ve been there. I just got there first.”

  Snark asked, “What was he going to do to her?”

  I felt Kian’s gaze lift from my head as he answered Snark, “What do you think?”

  I knew.

  Justin had been so rough so many times.

  And I would’ve gone. I was ripped open from the inside as I realized that. I would’ve gone. I would’ve been ecstatic to leave the house and get away from Edmund. And it would’ve happened because Justin always got me where he wanted.

  Kian didn’t answer Snark, but I lifted my head.

  My voice was hoarse as I said, “He would’ve raped me.”

  Snark’s eyes widened.

  I said, “That’s why we broke up. He’d tried to force me other times. I always stopped him, but the last time”—I winced, remembering the feel of his hands on my arms—“he was too rough. I broke up with him because of it.”

  Snark nodded to Kian. “How did you know he would’ve done that? Did he say those words?”

  “He implied it pretty clearly.” Kain hesitated, his chest lifting in a small breath. “And because I knew someone else he raped.”

  My gaze whipped to his. He did?

  He was watching me, remorse filling his eyes, and the corners of his mouth curved down. He was grimacing. “I couldn’t let him do that to you, too.”

  “Who?” Snark’s voice rose. “Who did he rape? And will she testify?”

  “My sister, and no, she won’t.”

  “Your sister…” I trailed off, remembering the times when Felicia went to the courtroom. She was always with her mother, always with her head down, and her shoulders drooping slightly. She never looked at me. Ever. “I thought she hated me, she and your mother.”

  “Felicia knew why I was going to your place, but it was never talked about again in my family. I told my parents and the lawyers why, but my dad forbade letting my real reason get out.”

  I never saw his dad in the courtroom. “Why didn’t your dad come to the hearing? I don’t remember seeing him there.”

  “Because he was upset with me. He didn’t do a thing when Cavers raped Felicia. Justin’s dad was”—he scowled—“a business colleague of my dad’s. That didn’t mean I could let Justin do it again. That’s why I went to your house.”

  “You testified that you were going to a girl’s house though.” Snark crossed his arms over his chest. “It was a friends-with-benefits thing between you and the girl. She was expecting you to show up, too. She gave a statement backing you up.”

  Kian lifted a shoulder. “I could’ve gone to her house. It was across the street from Jordan’s house. It would have been a good enough excuse for why I was at Jordan’s house.”

  “The other girl didn’t actually know you were coming?”

  “Someone called her later, told her that I’d been planning on going to her house. She was told what to testify about. It was how it was. I could go over whenever I wanted. She had no problem with backing me up. I’m sure she even believed it, too.”

  Snark grunted, shaking his head. “The hardships of being young, wealthy, and good-looking.”

  Kian’s lips pressed together into a flat line. “My dad forbade me to testify with the real reason I went to Jordan’s house. Couldn’t put ‘undue stress’ on a ‘beneficial alliance.’ Those were my dad’s actual words.”

  My head was swimming.

  He’d saved me from Edmund and from Justin. One just tortured me, and the other intended to rape me. What was worse was that I didn’t know if I would’ve gone to the police about either. If Edmund stopped, I would’ve convinced myself that he’d just snapped. He would’ve apologized, and nothing would’ve been said about it again. His wife, their two kids—they blamed me for Edmund’s death, and they never would’ve supported me if I’d gone to the police. Same thing with Justin. It would’ve been my word against his.

  Shame filled me, making my insides form knots.

  I would’ve allowed myself to become victimized. I wouldn’t have stood up, not like Kian had.

  Feeling the burning in my throat and tears threatening to spill, I said huskily, “Thank you.”

  He’d been waiting, and at my words, his shoulders slowly lowered. A silent sigh left him at the same time. As his Adam’s apple jerked up and paused at the top of his throat, he gave me a stiff nod. “You don’t hate me?”

  How could I? He’d saved me in more ways than one.

  I shook my head. “Never.”

  “This is all fine and dandy, but we have serious issues to talk about.” Snark’s sharp tone broke my reverie.

  I was pulled from the past and brought back to reality.

  He added, “You have a roommate and an apartment with all your stuff. I suggest you deal with that before his team gets here.” He jerked a thumb in Kian’s direction and then threw him a shrewd look, his eyebrow arching up. “I’m assuming you’re going to demand that she stay here and not go with me?”

  Kian threw me a questioning look, but his jaw hardened. “That’s up to Jordan.”

  Jordan.

  That was the second time he called me by my real name. The feeling washed over me, sending warmth through my body. It was my name, given to me by my real parents. It was nice, hearing it again, and I let myself savor the sensation.

  “Jordan?” Snark added, his voice gruff.

  Savoring moment was done. It was time to deal with real life. I clipped my head in a firm nod. “I ran from that party, but it might not be a bad idea to get back to my apartment before the media shows up, if they aren’t there already. I might not get another chance.” I glanced to Kian. “You probably shouldn’t come—”

  He didn’t let me finish. “I’m coming.”

  “Well then, okay, I guess.”

  He shouldn’t go, but I was glad that he would. It didn’t make sense, and I didn’t care. The shitstorm that was called the media was about to descend on my life once again. I was going to endure everything I had before. I was about to be blamed for Kian going to jail.

  I needed to go to hell. I was a whore. I was a cunt. I was a seductress from the ninth level of hell. I didn’t deserve happiness or to be alive. I should have died. And those were all the comments that would be yelled from non-media people. The media would paint me how they had before and during the trial, showing that I manipulated Kian into killing Edmund. Somehow, it was all my fault.

  I was about to be hated once more.

  “I’ll go.” Snark moved to grab my arm. “You stay.” He swept his eyes to Kian, too. “Both of you stay. I’ll get a team in there. I can pull some strings from work.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded. “I’ll call when it’s done. We’ll get everything out.”

  After Snark left, Kian and I stared at each other. The air was so heavy and thick that I didn’t think I could talk. He had known about Justin. He came to save me from my ex. I couldn’t get that out of my head.

  I heard myself asking Kian, my voice hoarse, “You knew about him?” It was already answered, but somehow, I needed to ask again. He knew how he was. Others knew. Justin hurt me back then.

  No one cared, or I thought no one cared.

  He nodded, his eyes lidded. “He didn’t deserve you.”

  My mouth was dry. “You knew me before that happened then? I thought it was a freak accident, that you saw me through the window.”

  Kian met my gaze. Gone was the cold, mysterious, and almost deadly guy I knew for the last three years. It was the old Kian, the high school Kian. But even then, he was always reserved, a loner at times, yet a respected leader. No, this was a different side to him.

  I tilted my head to the side, narrowing my eyes, and I moved closer. He was exposed to me, like he opened a window and I was seeing the little boy inside of him.

  Hurt and a tiny degree of raw anger flared in his depths before switching to uncertainty. He was lett
ing me see inside of him. I felt my heart surge against my chest then, wanting to climb out to him. The feeling was overwhelming.

  I asked so quietly, “Why?”

  He gazed at me, questioning me.

  “Why didn’t he deserve me?”

  I suddenly needed to hear something loving, something I hadn’t heard from anyone all my life. I moved another step closer so I was within touching distance of him. I could see his pulse pounding through a vein in his neck.

  He held himself still, just watching me back, before he murmured, “Because you were good. He wasn’t. He was beneath you.”

  “You’re nothing but a whore,” Edmund said. “I’ve seen you with that rich boy. I’ve seen you two kissing. His tongue going down your mouth. I’ve seen it all, and I knew it would be my job to save you.”

  His breath was hot, rank, as he brought the knife to my throat. He was excited and aroused. I felt him pressing against my leg.

  He coated my face with his spit, saying, “You’re going to be saved today, girl. One way or another, you will be.”

  I blinked back a tear and swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. “How do you know?” I could only whisper. How did he know I was good?

  Kian’s hand lifted, cupping the back of my neck, and he leaned down so that his forehead rested against mine. I felt the struggle in him then. He was holding himself back, trying to keep control.

  I wanted to yank it out of him. Whatever the consequences, whatever happened, I wanted it to happen. An ache was in me, one that I wanted him to fill. There was a hole inside me, one that his words, his touch, and his protection could heal. I was leaning into him, my forehead pressing back, and my eyes clung to his. I was starving for him.

  He said so softly and gently, “Because I’m not good. Because I’m like Justin, like Edmund. I’ve hurt. I’ve killed. I’ve stood by when people I loved were hurt.” His hand trailed around my neck in a soft caress and went up to rest against my cheek. He wasn’t holding me. He was just touching me. “I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t let you get hurt, not when you weren’t like the rest of us. You’re good. You were then. You are now.”

  My heart pressed even more to my chest, wanting to go to him if it could.

  He said, “He hurt my sister, and after it happened, I couldn’t do anything. I wanted to make him suffer. My dad wouldn’t allow it. Justin started dating you, and I knew it was going to happen again. I knew of you from school. You were quiet and stayed to yourself, stayed in the background. That was why Justin picked you—because he could hurt you and get away with it. No one was going to protect you. But you were good. I saw it then, and it’s still in you. You’re still good, Jordan. When you broke up with him, I was relieved, but it wasn’t because he hadn’t hurt you.”

  His head lifted. Blinding pain and regret flared up. It was fierce in his eyes as he said, “I was relieved because I didn’t have to stop him—” His voice broke as guilt flooded him.

  His head lowered. His eyes left mine, but I reached up. I caught the side of his face, and I made him look at me again. Our eyes met, and I saw a stark need for something was there, inside of him. I couldn’t place it, but it struck deep inside me, as if I could heal him like he’d allowed me to heal, too.

  “Finish it.” Please.

  “He hurt my sister, and I couldn’t make him pay for it. If he hurt you, too, I couldn’t have lived with it. Any other girl…” He looked away again.

  I didn’t let him. I made him look at me, my fingers sinking into his skin.

  “There’s something about you.” His eyes rounded, looking in wonderment at me now. “I don’t know what it is. I felt it back then. I didn’t care about other girls, even the girls in my group. They were all the same. People just hurt people. I didn’t care. But when he started with you, I cared. I cared too much. I couldn’t let him hurt you, but it meant going against my father and my family. I would’ve lost them. If I said or did anything, I would’ve been exiled from them.”

  Kian went to my house that day, knowing what would happen. “They would’ve kicked you out?”

  He nodded, his head moving against my hand. “I shouldn’t have given a damn, but you broke up with him, and I was so fucking relieved that I wouldn’t have to fight my father. Justin started bragging again. He was going to wine and dine you and take you to the party that next weekend. He was going to finish what he’d started. Those were his words.”

  I winced, but that sounded like my asshole ex-boyfriend. My would-have-been rapist.

  “Like I said before, he was going to your house that day to ask you. I wanted to tell you not to go out with him. I didn’t know if he’d already be there. I didn’t know what I would be walking into, but I had to stop him. You couldn’t get hurt.” He shook his head, saying to himself, “Not you.”

  I didn’t know what to feel. So many emotions were going through me—relief, gratefulness, anger, pain. But there were others, ones I didn’t want to name. So, I didn’t.

  I moved, pressing my lips to his.

  It was a soft kiss, almost like our first one, but this one was different. There was something new about it, something tender. Warmth swept through me, filling every part of my body, and it pushed all those other emotions out. It was just us, just this touch. That was the only thing that mattered.

  And, my God, I wanted more.

  I moved closer to him and opened my mouth. He took over then. His hand held me still, and he moved his head, his mouth coming to mine. He wanted more. His mouth ground on mine, but I wanted it. My body was thirsting for it.

  Jordan thought this was just about sex. It wasn’t.

  As I took over the kiss and guided her around, switching our positions, I knew this was so much more.

  I hadn’t been lying when I told her about Justin. He was an animal, and he deserved to be put down. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t do anything that I wanted. People got hurt. They remained hurt, and the people who did it, the ones who hurt them, would always walk free. That was all I saw time and time again. Hearing Justin, knowing what he was going to do, I couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

  And now—feeling Jordan beneath me, her mouth arched upward, moving against mine—it was worth it. Everything had been worth it.

  I felt more for her than she was ready to hear.

  Feeling it now, feeling that emotion and that need to possess her in so many ways, I started to tremble. I wanted to carry her to bed, rip her clothes off, and make her forget any other person’s touch. I wanted to be imprinted on her, so no one would touch her again. I’d always be there. I’d be in the back of her mind. When another’s hands reached for her, she’d feel mine instead. When someone else pressed her into the bed, it’d be my presence haunting her.

  I wanted her.

  I had for so long.

  If Justin had been there, if he’d been hurting her, I would’ve done the same to him as I had with Edmund. Nothing and no one would hurt Jordan. She didn’t realize it, but she’d never feel suffering again. I wouldn’t allow it—whether I was with her or not.

  But, right now, having her in my arms, I never wanted this to end. I wanted to take her over and over again. I wanted to make her come again and again, for as long as she would let me.

  Thinking about it, feeling the need sweeping up and nearly choking me, I moved her against the wall.

  The back of her head rested there, and then her body followed until she was completely glued between the wall and me. There was no escaping. She was mine. She reached up, and her hand slid around my neck. She began to pull down, and at the same time, her body moved up. I bent and grasped the back of her leg. She lifted herself with me, and her legs wound around my waist.

  I could touch her now. My fingers could go between us and undo her jeans, and I could slide right in. But I held back. I wanted to savor this, and I wanted her to relish this.

  As her body was rippling with need, her mouth never leaving mine, my fingers went underneath her shirt. One remained on he
r thigh, even though I didn’t have to hold her in place. She wasn’t leaving me. My other eased over her skin, up the side of her back, and she bucked. Her body jolted, and a moan left her as her legs tightened even more around my waist.

  She tried to go higher, her body moving against mine.

  I pulled back and rested my forehead to hers. We were both panting. Our pulses were racing.