by Anne Malcom
“Baby, you don’t swear. Jesus, the words sound wrong coming out of that beautiful, innocent mouth,” he said, eyes flickering with shock.
His words caught me by surprise momentarily, but I recovered quickly.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Innocent?” I repeated. Then I laughed that cold, emotionless laugh that was becoming far too familiar. “I’m a lot of things now. I’m also not a lot of things. Four years is a long time, Killian. Innocence is something that is long gone. Another skeleton of my old life, of what I used to be.” I flickered my gaze around the room, if only to escape those ice blue eyes. “Innocence is a dream. A fantasy. See, I lost most of it the day I lost Steve and Ava, the day I realized the world isn’t a fairy tale and happily ever after only exists in books.” I paused, sucking in a breath, battling the pain at saying their names. “But it wasn’t gone. Not completely. Innocence is like hope, like love. Someone has to keep it alive, nurture it, protect it, for it to exist. Like hope, like love, it was something I gave to you willingly. Something that you shattered. So no, I’m not innocent anymore. I’m happy for that. In fact, I should thank you. Because now I’m not some stupid girl wandering around the world with rose-tinted glasses who thought happiness actually existed. I live in the real world now, Killian. So thanks.” My voice dripped with sarcasm and venom I didn’t even know I was capable of. The song I’d sang had opened floodgates I’d been working hard to keep closed. Now was the time to say everything that had been eating me up for the past four years.
Killian flinched at my words. “Lexie—” he began in a tortured voice, but I was on a roll, every word I’d been itching to say to him for years spilling out. The anger was a welcome friend when hurt was a constant companion. It felt good to let it out.
“You’re a coward,” I hissed. My words hardly made sense, considering Killian was the bravest person I’d once known. He’d jumped in front of bullets for me. Twice. My mind didn’t think of that. “You were too fucking scared to venture into the real world when it became apparent that’s where I was going. So instead, you took the easy way out. The coward’s way out.”
Killian pushed off the wall and his face darkened so much it seemed it brought a cloud over the room. “I fuckin’ know!” he roared, losing the control he seemed to have had iron-clad restraint over until now. He paced the room. “You belong up there.” He nodded to the stage. “In the light. You live for that. You wouldn’t have gotten there if I hadn’t let you go.”
Emotions broke through the dam I had constructed so carefully. They couldn’t stay pent-up any longer, so I exploded.
“I lived for you,” I screamed. “For us. Every breath I took, every beat of my heart, every fucking word I sang was for you,” I continued on a shrill tone. “You think I care about this compared to that?” I asked, throwing my hands up around the room. I laughed bitterly. “Music is my soul. You’re right. But so were you. You were entwined, coiled up together. There is no one without the other.” I paused. “Or was.”
Killian froze for a second then stepped forward, not close enough to touch me, thank God. “I saved you from having to choose.”
I laughed an ugly sound. “Saved me?” I repeated. “Yes, Killian the hero. Killian the noble. Saved me from what? Someone who loved me? Someone who I loved. Who I lived for? You saved me from that. Bravo. Someone get you a purple fucking heart.”
Killian stepped forward, clutching my hand in his. “I saved you from—”
I ripped my hand from his grasp. “News flash, Killian. I didn’t need saving. Not then. And I don’t need saving now, thanks to some fucked-up responsibility you feel.”
His eyes blazed into mine. “Maybe I need saving, freckles.”
I was hypnotized, captivated by his words as they trickled through my soul. At what they meant. They meant nothing. Words. That’s all they were. I couldn’t let them trick me. Let me fall again.
“Don’t look at me for that, Killian. I couldn’t even safe myself. Not from you. Not then. But I can save the both of us right now.” On that, I turned on my heel and stormed out.
Killian didn’t know exactly what he expected Lexie’s life to be like, but it sure as fuck wasn’t this. Not a day had gone by in the last four years that he hadn’t thought about her. Wondered what she was doing. Who she was with. Every day was a battle not to get on his bike and ride to her. Find a way back to her. He’d always stopped himself because he knew she was living a life she deserved. That she was destined for.
But this?
This was the furthest thing from what she was destined for. The fuckin’ photo shoot where they drenched her in makeup, covered up everything that made her beautiful, and turned her into a plastic version of herself. Where she posed like some kind of doll to sell fuckin’ lipstick. Hours spent in front of a camera, smiling and joking with everyone despite all the shit she’d been through. She didn’t portray an inch of it. She was playing a part. And playing it so well it disturbed him. Because the only reason he knew the truth was because he’d been there and saw what she was dealing with. It made him wonder, made him fuckin’ terrified that the past four years he’d been seeing exactly what he’d seen today. A performance. An act to disguise the shit that life was throwing her.
Then the reporter. Another show. Dressed up in expensive shit, still Lexie, but a different version, the celebrity version. Again, too much makeup, not as much as before but more than she needed. The moment the reporter brought up the dead fucker, Killian thought he might explode. Or shoot the reporter. He had been leaning toward the latter. Then Lexie took over, expertly leading the reporter, answering questions like a politician.
Every word she spoke about how she missed that actor was like a knife to the gut. The world loved Lexie. They mourned with her that she lost this… person she loved.
He couldn’t even talk to her about him. He didn’t want to. But he had to find out the truth if what she had with him was just a performance. Killian thought it was. Because he knew how fiercely Lexie loved, and if anyone she truly cared about had been taken away from her, she wouldn’t be calmly talking about it with a stranger. No. Even this new version of her wouldn’t be able to do that, he was certain. He didn’t miss how her voice cracked when she talked about the security guard. Her friend. The one she’d visited every single day.
No. She hadn’t cared about the actor. Not that it mattered.
He hadn’t had a moment to talk to her this entire day. Not a second to try and figure out if his freckles was still in there somewhere, and if he could get her back. Her life was too busy, and he was too busy shielding her from cameras and lookin’ out for the person who he’d planned on killing. But he had to find time to dedicate to talking with her, and soon. He couldn’t live like this, with her ignoring him. He needed her to scream, to curse him out. Something. This indifference would kill him.
He’d hoped there would be time when they got to the venue for the sound check, but the band had gone straight to rehearsal, and he’d gone to meet with Keltan to make sure the security was tight. Killian hadn’t wanted her to play a fuckin’ show, too many risks. But then Lexie had insisted she wouldn’t hide away. He got it. He didn’t like it, but he got it. It made him proud. She was strong. Brave. That hadn’t changed.
He’d left the meeting with Keltan in time to catch a couple of their last songs. They hit him like they always did. The words of Lexie’s pain sounded beautiful and ugly at the same time.
But they weren’t what hit him the hardest. It was the song she sang after the rest of the band left. The song she sang to him. He knew it as soon as her voice caressed the first line. The second the pain, the unfiltered and pure pain, poured out of her.
He’d been unable to move, to think for the length of that song. Then when she was finished, he had to get all the people out of that fuckin’ room. He had planned on going to her, telling her how fuckin’ sorry he was, how much he still loved her. Then he’d planned on claiming her mouth, on draggi
ng her back to her fancy bedroom and sequestering them in it.
Then she’d opened her mouth. Her soft voice drenched with anger and she’d cussed at him. It had shocked him. Another reminder that she wasn’t the Lexie he’d known. He’d loved. He still loved this version, he’d love any version, but he’d been unprepared for her anger, for the words she’d screamed at him. Hearing her say them to him, not sing them in a song, had fucked him up. Fucked him up enough to let her walk away and leave him standing there, stewing in their mutual agony.
“You’re not going in there,” Killian declared.
I didn’t look at him. Instead, I moved to open the door. His hand clasped over mine, and I glared down at it. My body responded immediately at the touch, and I tried to still my pounding heart. “Get your hands off me,” I hissed.
Despite my tone, he didn’t do as I asked. “Look at me, Lexie.”
With great effort, I tried to ignore this command, but my eyes betrayed me.
His eyes blazed. “You can’t seriously think I’ll let you go in there?” He nodded to the building. “With the shit that’s going on? The danger you’re in?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t seriously think you have any fucking right to let me do anything? You threw that right away years ago. Now get your fucking hands off me,” I replied with venom.
We had barely spoken since yesterday, since the shouting match at the stadium. I couldn’t look at him without hurting. I knew he wanted to talk. I could feel the energy pulsing off him. Luckily, I had three enthusiastic protectors who made it their mission not to let Killian be in a room alone with me. And I had a schedule that meant I wasn’t stationary practically the whole day. I had meetings to plan the rest of the tour, recording sessions, and various other appointments. Killian followed me the entire time. I had to bite my tongue multiple times, on the edge at screaming at him to leave. I reminded myself of Zane and Mom, at how I was doing this for them.
Killian let me go, his jaw hardening at my words. I immediately wrenched out of the car, unable to be in there without suffocating. I strode into the gym, trying to pretend Killian wasn’t at my back. Trying to pretend he didn’t exist.
*****
“Out,” a hard voice barked from behind me. I whirled around to see Killian standing off with Keltan, who I’d been training with for the past half an hour. Killian’s entire form had stiffened when he’d watched me get into the ring with Keltan and start sparring with him. I’d tried to ignore him, but it was fucking hard when his eyes were glued to my every move. I was never more aware of how tight my leggings were or how my top rode up showing the skin of my belly as I had been for the last thirty minutes.
Keltan glanced at me, then Killian. Then the crazy idiot smiled. He took off the gloves and threw them at Killian. “Good luck,” he said. It wasn’t apparent who he was speaking to as he left the ring.
I faced off with Killian, who was putting on gloves. “What are you doing?” I hissed, breathing heavily. Keltan wasn’t really going hard on me. In fact, I knew he was holding back since it hadn’t been nearly as difficult as it was with Duke, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t working up a sweat.
“I’m giving you the chance,” Killian said, looking up.
I didn’t let my gaze fall from his. “The chance at what?”
He stepped forward. “To let it all out. All that anger I see behind your eyes. All that hate. Here you go.” He held his arms away from his body. “Have at it.”
I froze at his words. He thought I hated him. I saw it in his eyes when he said it. In the tight way he’d held his body when he said it. He actually thought I hated him
I should. I knew that. But how could I ever hate him?
I might hate myself for still loving him so goddamn much, but it would be physically impossible for me to hate him.
“I’m not doing that,” I declared, turning so I could escape the pain on his face.
He moved so fast he was almost a blur. He was now in front of me, inches away. “Yes, you are,” he growled, his breath on my face. “Do it, Lexie.”
“No.”
“Yes,” he rasped.
I stood in front of him, frozen at how close our bodies were, at the pain that came with that proximity. Like a waterfall, the pain overflowed, the anger mingling with it so I almost didn’t recognize my own emotions. My fist went up, aiming for his face.
He blocked it easily. “You can do better than that, freckles.”
It was the name that did it. “You don’t call me that,” I half screamed. Then I let loose. I worked on autopilot, violence I didn’t even recognize pouring from me as I fought him. Fought him for my life. He dodged for a start, blocking my punches and moving around the ring with me. Then he didn’t. Then he let my hits land on his chest. They were uncontrolled, viscous and full of every ounce of pain and anger I’d been nurturing for the past four years. Before I knew it, I was pounding so hard on his muscled chest, my hands started to ache. Then I couldn’t see him as tears streamed down my face, the first I’d let fall since that day at the dock a thousand years ago. I almost lost my feet from underneath me as I finally surrendered to it, the sorrow, the hurt, the anger, all of it. Before I could, Killian’s arms circled around me, yanking me to his chest. I fought him for a start. Fought him hard. With everything I had. Then I stopped. Then I sank into his chest, trying to bury myself in there. He squeezed me tight, wrapping me in the embrace that I’d craved. That I’d feared.
His lips pressed into my neck, but I didn’t react to it. I was at the mercy of the tears I had been holding back for years. Tears that drenched the front of Killian’s shirt. That shook my body so hard I thought I might fall apart if Killian’s arms weren’t around me.
He stroked my hair, murmured in my ears through it all.
I finally found some kind of sanity after an indeterminate amount of time. Somewhere, I found enough strength to pull myself from his arms. I glanced around, the gym was empty. That was lucky. Killian’s hand went to my chin, directing my gaze back to him.
I blinked through my blurry eyes. “Why?” I choked out, my voice husky.
I wasn’t prepared for the answer to this, the question that had plagued me for years, but I had to know. I couldn’t go on like this, with him in my life, without knowing.
He knew exactly what I was asking. He stepped back, as if he needed distance to answer it. The gesture hurt, but I didn’t let it show. I hurriedly tried to build my shield of indifference back up.
“You remember that day at the movie theatre? The one where I told you that sometimes freedom meant breaking chains described as laws?” he asked.
I wanted to shake my head, to deny that I remembered every single second with him, that my traitorous mind travelled to those moments in my dreams. I wanted to deny all of that and somehow construct the illusion that I threw away all of those moments the second he threw away my heart.
Instead, I nodded.
“Well, that’s what I did. Broke something in order to give you the freedom you deserved. That was your destiny.” His voice was gravelly.
The anger that I thought I’d drained from my body returned in an instant.
“I’m not aware you broke any laws when you dumped me the day after I gave you my virginity. Apart from the laws of decency,” I snapped.
Killian flinched. “Not talkin’ bout laws,” he murmured. “Talkin’ ‘bout my heart. My soul.”
I froze at the pain in his words and on his face. It seeped into my bones. “What are you talking about?” I whispered.
He stepped forward. “We were at the precipice of two worlds, Lexie. At a crossroads. You knew it, not that you would have admitted it. You were heading for the stars, with record contracts and a light that shone so bright it couldn’t be tucked away in Amber. It needed freedom, freedom I couldn’t give you. My world was the club. Was Amber. I didn’t know anything else. I couldn’t be anything else. And I knew you’d realize that. And beca
use you’re so fuckin’ selfless, you’d extinguish that light. For me. I couldn’t let you do that. I had to let you go, so you could fly and so I could stay in the life that was the only one I could live in without you,” he said, voice rough.
I stared at him. Understanding his words but not the meaning behind them. Not the reasons that worked as some sort of justification that I couldn’t accept. I thought I’d unleashed all my fury with my fists. I discovered I had more to release with my words.
“Since we’re taking a trip down memory lane, do you remember the day I sang you that song and you asked me if I thought you were lost?”
Killian’s eyes went liquid. “I remember every fucking second of my life with you, Lexie.” I could see him calling up the memory of that day, his face contorting in pain. “You said you were lost until you met me,” he choked out.
I ignored the emotion in his voice. I had to. “Well, I was wrong then. You are lost. You’re fucking Peter Pan,” I hissed, anger making my voice unrecognizable. “A fucking lost boy who lives in Amber instead of Neverland, who clutches a cut instead of… gasp, growing up. Your club is not an excuse not to live, Kill. To stay. To never grow up. That’s not what it is, but you’re treating it like that. Hiding behind it so you don’t have to grow up. God forbid life gets harder than a gun, a cut, and a bike.”
Killian surged forward. One moment he was against the ropes, the next he was in my space. Right in it. Four years. Four years I had dreamed of being this close to him again. Smelling the scent that enveloped me, made me feel safe. Only it didn’t make me feel safe anymore. It shattered me. I scuttled back until I hit ropes. Killian held his arms up on either side of me, boxing me in.
“I’m no boy,” he whispered, eyes blazing. “Four years ago, maybe. A stupid fuckin’ kid. But now, freckles, I’m a man. And a man claims what’s his.” He leaned forward so our mouths almost brushed. I held my breath, my entire form shaking.