KESTER.
She was still standing there. She fucking stood like she could fucking fix me.
The fear in her eyes faded too fast, dissolving into something worse. Something sickly.
Concern.
What was she? Kasmine? My mother? Some fucking saint who thought she could put me back together, piece by piece, like it was her duty?
“Kester,” She whispered, ignoring the blood dripping out of her face. She wasn’t healing just yet. How would she heal when the pieces of glass were still in her flesh, and all she cared about was me?
She should have been backing away, pressing her hands to her wounds, pulling the shards out-something, anything.
But no. She stood there.
She wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t cry. Wouldn’t flinch.
I wanted her to flinch.
I wanted her to stop looking at me like that… Like she could still see something in me that wasn’t already rotting.
Blood streaked down her cheek, down her arm, onto the floor-staining the fucking floor.
Like if she tried hard enough, if she held on long enough, I’d give a damn about something other than wanting to tear her apart.
She reeked of rotten desperation.
A muscle jumped in my jaw. My fingers twitched. My skin burned, too tight over my bones.
“Take a deep breath…” She said, and, fuck! No one told me June had become a therapist.
My breath shuddered out as I grabbed my phone from the table-fingers so tight around it my knuckles burned. And then-
CRACK.
The phone hit the wall. Pieces of it rained to the floor.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” I counted my words through gritted teeth.
I took a step forward, and her whole body tensed. The stupid, desperate look in her eyes flickered, replaced by terror.
Perfect.
“Otherwise, your corpse won’t even make it home for a funeral,” I added coldly as I took another step, and she sucked in a sharp breath, her throat working.
“I’m… I’m sorry…” She trembled so terribly.
I had lifted my hand to grab her by her throat when suddenly, the door slammed open.
“Kester!”
It was Kasmine.
Her voice shot through my veins like ice. I jerked, my momentum halting just before I reached June, my body locking up.
She was breathless, her worried eyes frantically taking in the room-the shattered phone, the broken glass, the blood, June.
Her lips parted, a tremor in them.
My stomach dropped.
No. No, no, no.
I never wanted her to see me like this. Not ever. Not after the last outburst I had when we were younger. I lost control and ended up locked away behind thick walls, under cold lights, with white coats monitoring every breath I took.
They poked. Prodded. Measured the depth of my supposed sickness like I was truly sick.
And when I’d given them what they wanted-when I smiled, when I nodded, when I played their fucking game-they signed me off as “stable.”
They thought I was better and that a little bit of therapy sessions would finally set me on track.
They thought that I had clawed my way out of the dark, but they had no idea…
And after a few weeks of therapy, everyone thought I had passed every test and evaluation and that I was fine. Little did they know that not only did I kill my therapist, I also drafted a report by her, stating that I was in a better condition.
I had walked out of that place, not healed or rehabilitated-just better at pretending.
And now Kasmine was looking at me like she could see past all of the facades I had been putting up all these years… Like she could see what lay underneath the mask I had carefully had on all along.
My hands curled into fists at my sides. My pulse pounded in my skull.
I never wanted her to be afraid of me.
Never.
***
KASMINE.
I barely breathed as I took in the wreckage of his room-the shattered phone, the blood, the tension so thick it made my skin prickle.
But Kester’s looks scared me the most.
“Kester…” I called carefully.
I didn’t even know where to start. He was a trembling mess. His eyes were crimson red, and I could tell this anger wasn’t just about whatever June might have done to him. She was only unlucky to have been there at the wrong time and probably said something she shouldn’t say at such a time.
I tried to mask the fear and worry curling inside me. I didn’t want him to think that I was afraid of him. I didn’t want him to think I saw him as a monster.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I took careful steps toward him, and to my surprise, he hurried toward me and, in one swift motion, lifted me off the ground into his arms.
“Don’t hurt yourself, Mine,” he said, and I felt a pang of guilt hit my chest so hard.
He had inflicted injuries on June’s beautiful face, yet he was so concerned about the same glass piercing my feet? In her presence?
As soon as he put me down, I turned to June and whispered to her, “Just go. I’ll see you later.” My words were accompanied by a silent plea with my eyes, and thankfully, she ran off.
The hurt in her tearful gaze when she saw Kester lift me off the floor, would haunt me for a long time.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my cheek against his chest.
“Kester,” I whispered, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against my ear. “Breathe. You’re not breathing.” I whispered, doing all I could to steady my racing heart.
“Your heart is racing too fast, Mine… Are you scared of me?” He asked, wrapping his arms around me in a hug. He breathed in my scent like a drug, exhaling slowly and repeating the motion again.
I let him.
It seemed to calm him down, so I let him take what he needed if it meant pulling him back from wherever his mind had gone.
“Are you?” He asked and I took in a deep breath.
“No, Kes,” I murmured, my fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not.” I lied, and he knew.
“I’m sorry. She seems to always bring out the worst in me. That’s why I never want anyone else around except you.” He said, and I felt the tension slowly bleeding out of his body, his muscles losing that tight coil of restrained violence, and his breathing became more controlled.
His forehead pressed against mine.
“I’m sorry I hurt her,” he whispered. “I promised you I wouldn’t. But I did. I’m sorry.”
I tried to pull away, but he held on, arms tightening around me like a vise.
“Kester,” I murmured, tilting my head slightly. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. It’s June.”
His grip tensed, his muscles bunching again like a storm about to roll back in.
I quickly added, “But it’s fine. You can do that later, okay?”
There was a pause. Then, slowly, he exhaled.
He pulled away slightly. His hand lifted, fingers brushing along my jaw before trailing to the side of my face as he looked at me intently.
Gods. Those eyes.
Still dark with anger but burning with something else… Something that always burns when he looks at me.
It always takes everything in me to hold Kester’s gaze.
“I love you, Kasmine,” he muttered like it was a truth carved into his bones. A fact that would never change. “I love you more than life itself.”
I didn’t say anything. I just looked at him.
And he didn’t seem to expect me to say it back.
He just pulled me closer, lowering his head until his lips met mine.
The kiss was deep. Slow. Like he was trying to drag something out of me.
I kissed him back half-heartedly, not wanting this to go beyond the kiss. Not with what he had just done to that poor girl.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against my lips, “Why are you holding back?” His fingers traced my spine. “Is this a punishment for what I did to June?”
He read it off my mind.
I nodded slowly.
He scoffed, amused. “Okay,” he said easily. “I’ll apologize to her.”
Then, his smirk curled against my skin. His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my head back just enough for his lips to graze my jaw.
“Can we fuck now?”
Gods, the way he always said that word-low, shameless, filthy-sent heat twisting deep in my stomach.
But I refused to give in that easily.
“No,” I said, enjoying the control I held over him. “After you apologize.”
He heaved a sigh and smiled. “I hope you’ll be able to pay for this, baby,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dangerous. “You’re making me do things I don’t do.”
His lips brushed against my ear.
“And the price…” He dragged his tongue over my earlobe. His breath was hot and teasing. “…is pleasurably painful.”