Page 4 of Kael

Mr. Ellis dragged a hand over his face. “You really think you can fix her?”

“I can’t fix her,” I said. “I will keep her alive and clean until she decides to fix herself.”

“What do you want from us?” he asked, voice rough.

“Nothing but your understanding. And your word that you won’t interfere. If she calls you begging to be rescued in the middle of withdrawal, you tell her to breathe and that you love her. That’s it.”

They were quiet for a long time. Finally Mrs. Ellis nodded. “Just… bring her back to us.”

“I will.”

I turned to leave, then paused. “One more thing. Darius is getting out of prison. If he or any of his people come sniffing around here looking for her, you call me. Immediately.”

I handed them a plain black card with only my number on it.

As I walked back to the truck I felt their eyes on my back. I climbed in, checked the rearview, and started the engine, heading out toward the mangroves.

The highway was empty.

My mind went back to the warehouse.

I could have left her there. I could have let the streets have her, or let Darius find her, or simply put a bullet in her the way I had the two junkies bleeding out on my concrete floor. That would have been the smart choice.

Instead I was about to turn my life upside down.

The parents hadn’t asked why. I was asking myself the same question.

I thought about the first time I saw her—laughing at a gas station with Maya, head thrown back, hair catching the light. She wasn’t high then. She was just… alive. I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know she was an addict. I just knew I couldn’t look away.

I didn’t owe her anything. She was a liability. A thief. A beautifully broken little rabbit who brought danger to my doorstep.

But as the gates of my estate clicked shut behind me, the truth finally settled deep in my chest.

Because I think I loved her from the moment I saw her.

Chapter 3

Bria

I woke up tasting metal and fog. My tongue was thick and heavy like it didn’t belong to me anymore. The feeling was familiar, but this wasn’t the fall after a high. Usually there was at least a soft float to it, a warm disconnect where the world felt far away and my body didn’t fully belong to me yet. This felt different. Heavy. Wrong. Like my brain was trying to claw its way through wet cement.

My eyes fluttered open. My wrists ached. I tried to move them and felt the bite of padded cuffs. My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird throwing itself against iron bars.

Where the fuck was I?

This wasn’t the warehouse. This wasn’t an alley or a dirty hotel room.

I snapped my head around, panic flooding my system. Clean white sheets. Stone walls. A barred window looking out over black water and twisted mangroves swaying under moonlight. Somewhere in the distance, marsh insects chirped.

I almost screamed, but the memory came back all at once—Kael’s bloody hand stroking my cheek, the dead junkie, his calm voice whispering, “You don’t think I’ll kill you,” right before the cloth covered my mouth and everything went dark.

A ragged, terrified whimper slipped out before I could stop it. I jerked against the cuffs, hyperventilating as the chains rattled in the quiet room, my chest heaving so hard it hurt.

The door clicked open.

My whole body locked up. Blood ran ice-cold.

Kael stepped inside carrying a tray like this was some kind of normal morning. He looked calm. He was always too calm with me. It was frightening. I had seen him commit unexplainable violence, kill men, cut their bodies into pieces like they were no more than animals. How could he carry violence around like it was just another part of him, but somehow still manage to smile at me?