by MJ Morrigan
Tara watches the man go with his shoulders drooped in dejection. She glances up at June, squeezes his shoulder, “That couldn’t have been easy. I’m proud of you.”
June shakes her off, “Did you think I’d forgive him after one lousy apology?” his eyes are harsh when they look at her.
“Of course not,” she scoffs, “I didn’t ask you to forgive him, I asked you to listen to what he had to say. The choice to forgive him is yours, and yours alone.”
His eyes soften in guilt at her words, “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day,” he scrubs a hand over his face.
“Maybe it’s time to send everyone home?” Tara offers, “You need to rest.”
June nods his assent and Tara makes her way back to the house. Before she enters, he calls out, “Tara?” she turns to look at him, “How did you do it?” he asks, “How did you forgive me?”
She thinks for a minute and shrugs, “It just sort of happened. I think,” and here she smiles, “I think I probably forgave you long before I’d even realized.”
June scrunches his brows in frustration, “That doesn’t help,” he mutters.
Tara shrugs, “Letting go of your hatred is one thing,” and then adds after a moment, “Realizing that you hurt yourself more by harboring that unforgiveness than the person you haven’t forgiven, that helps, too.”
Lillian stares at the way Tara giggles at her phone, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Who’re you texting?” she asks.
“Lucas,” Tara replies absentmindedly, “Apparently, June’s a fan of my book,” she lifts the phone, showing Lillian a photograph of the man reading a hardcopy of the book Tara had published, “That’s the fifth time he’s read it.”
“Your Kindred is a fan of your trashy fantasy erotica?” Lillian asks with a raised brow.
“It’s high-class trash,” Tara sniffs haughtily, “And apparently so.”
Lillian sighs in frustration, “So I’m going to address the elephant in the room,” she rolls her eyes, “Do you have feelings for him?”
“I have feelings for everyone,” Tara shrugs, “That’s how feelings work.”
“Don’t get smart with me,” Lillian throws a pillow at her friend’s head, “You’re still in love with him?”
“What do you mean ‘still’?” Tara asks with narrowed eyes.
“You may be able to lie to yourself,” Lillian scoffs, “But not to me. You’ve been in love with him for a while. I just didn’t think it was something that surpassed the ‘Incident’,” they’ve all taken to referring to the kidnapping as the ‘Incident’, which Lillian finds a bit tedious but accepts nonetheless.
“I’m scared,” Tara sighs eventually, “Of what it’ll mean if I acknowledge that.”
“Not exactly the healthiest relationship, I will admit,” Lillian shrugs, “But you said that he’s changed, that he’s changing.”
“I’m still not sure if it’s enough,” Tara sighs.
EPILOGUE
“Tara!” Ren calls from the front door, “Your date is downstairs!”
Upon hearing his voice, Tara’s heart rate kicks up, beating erratically as she feels her palms growing clammy. She steps out of her room hesitantly, head bowed shyly as she steps into the lounge, “How do I look?”
She’s wearing a white dress shirt, long sleeves flared at the ends and submerging her hands. She’s coupled the shirt with a pair of tight black pants and small heels.
A soft whistle comes from one of the couches and she looks up to see Soran’s lips pulled into a pout, “You look great,” he tells her. Everyone around the room nods in agreement and she gives them all a grateful smile.
Her eyes drift across the room and land on a figure leaned against the kitchen entryway. She’d felt his eyes on her from the moment she stepped into sight and even as she looks at him, she feels the weight of his gaze.
June stares at her with a proud smile, hands crossed casually over his chest. He pushes himself off of the wall and strides over to her. A hand brushes a few stray strands out of her eyes and then he pats her head, “You look great,” he tells her with a reassuring smile, “You’ll have him in your tiny palms before you even bat your pretty eyes.”
The words reassure her but also make her heart clench sadly. She feels comforted by his praises and she can feel the Mark sing at his closeness but the situation feels all wrong.
“Come on,” Ren whines as he tugs on Tara’s arm, “You’ll be late.”
The date passes by pleasantly enough. Ben is the epitome of sweet; listening to her with rapt attention and making her laugh enough to relax her nerves. He’s the perfect date and Tara doesn’t know why she wants it to be over.
Only she does know. At the bottom of her heart, in a place she’s locked up behind shameful barriers, she knows that she doesn’t enjoy the date because it’s not June in front of her, complimenting her and making her laugh.
She thinks she might have dormant masochistic tendencies if she wants to be on a date with the man who had emotionally and mentally abused her for years. Yes, they’re civil now, can possibly be considered friends, but she must be an idiot for wanting to pursue anything close to a relationship with him.
Ben seems to pick up on how distracted and reserved she becomes and eventually his eyes stray to the Mark just above her collarbone, “Have you found yours yet?” he asks with a nod in its direction.
“Um, yeah,” she replies hesitantly, not sure if she wants to broach the subject.
He nods his head once, knowing look in his eyes, “I haven’t found mine yet,” he tells her after a moment, “So I’m not in any position to make assumptions regarding Kindred but I’m guessing yours is the reason you keep avoiding my hand every time I try to hold yours.”
She glances down in shame, frown marring her features.
“It’s okay,” Ben chuckles at her expression, “But I think you should stop trying to humor me and go sort out whatever is keeping you two apart.”
“You don’t even know him,” she chuckles at his words, “Why are you so quick to assume that we should be together?”
“I just have a gut feeling,” Ben’s eyes twinkle knowingly.
They end their date early and Tara fully intends to go home and wallow in a bit of self-pity but she finds herself outside June’s club. She decides to go in and maybe have a drink or two before going home.
When she enters the club, she makes her way over to the bar but is intercepted by a frantic looking Sola, “Oh, thank God,” the woman sighs in relief, “Please go upstairs and calm him down. He’s been horrid to deal with all night.”
Tara furrows her brows in confusion but reassures the dancer that she’ll go have a look. She sighs to herself before she begins the trek upstairs to the third floor offices.
The hallway is quiet and when she reaches June’s office, she expects the silence. What she doesn’t expect are the broken murmurs coming from behind his door. She doesn’t see Lucas and that makes her curious, so she walks up to the door and is about to knock when she hears her name mentioned.
“I don’t know why you’re throwing a tantrum when you were the one actively encouraging Tara to go on that date,” Lucas scoffs.
“Shut up,” she hears June snap.
“This is ridiculous,” Lucas sighs, “You’ve been openly pining for at least a year now and then you go and set her up on a date, but now you’re angry that she’s on it. Why?” the last part is heaved through an exasperated sigh.
“Because I love her!” June yells and Tara hears glass shatter against a wall, “Because we’re bonded and I love her but I don’t deserve even a piece of her affection,” he trails off with a shuddery breath.
Tara’s heart clenches at his words and she feels something in her break. She opens the door and steps in hesitantly, eyes watery as she glances about the room.
Both June and Lucas look at her with wide, startled eyes. Lucas stirs uncomfortably and mutters something about giving them privacy before striding pa
st Tara and closing the door behind her.
June continues to give her the same deer-in-the-headlights expression and she takes one look at his frazzled state, shirt un-tucked and his hair sticking up all around his head, “Oh, June,” she sighs sadly and the man in front of her flinches.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters in a broken whisper, “You weren’t supposed to find out.”
She doesn’t reply, simply strides up to him so that she can cup his face in between her hands. He leans into the touch, eyes closing as she rubs a thumb over his cheeks, “You really shouldn’t,” he tells her after a moment, gripping her hands in between his and lowering them, “If I think I have even the slightest chance with you, I’ll take it. I’m not selfless enough to say no to you.”
She chuckles at his words, “That’s okay,” she tells him, gripping onto the collar of his shirt and winding a hand around his neck. June protests for a moment, hesitation in his eyes, but the fingers at the nape of his neck tug at the hairs there and his self-control breaks. He lunges down and captures her lips in a frantic kiss, hands winding around her back and pulling her flush against him.
She expects the kiss to be rough and intense, as is June’s style, but is surprised when his grip is tight but gentle. His lips are hesitant but overwhelming, like he’s not supposed to be kissing her but doesn’t want to stop.
When she feels wet patches against her skin, she pulls back in shock, only to find tears coating his cheeks.
“Why’re you crying?” she asks softly, surprise colouring her tone.
“I’m not good for you,” he tells her with a broken chuckle, “And I didn’t think I’d ever get to kiss you again but I am and I should feel grateful for even that little but I want more and feel ashamed because of it,” hands grip her back tightly, like he’s afraid she’ll run away.
“June,” she dries the tears that have spilt over his cheeks, “We’re bonded, it’s okay to want those things.”
“Jin says that that’s not how real Kindred act,” June mumbles, “Real Kindred are selfless, and only care about the other’s happiness.”
“And I’m telling you that being with you will make me happy. Also, stop getting advice from Jin, he’s a horrible gossip,” Tara teases.
June chuckles at that, sighing before resting his head against hers, eyes closing as he winds his arms around her and pulls her into him, “I used to daydream about holding you like this,” he mumbles against her hair, “Sometimes when you were working outside the office, my mind would wander to images of us together and I’d get so overwhelmed by how much I wanted you,” he places a kiss to her temple, “And then I’d call one of the dancers in and fuck her loudly so that you’d hate me even more.”
She hears the self-hatred in his voice and she feels his fists clench tightly. So Tara pulls away enough to stand on the tips of her toes to place another kiss against his lips. His anger is replaced by surprise and then desire when she moves her lips against his and winds an arm around his neck.
The next morning, Tara is awoken by pressure on her neck. She opens her eyes and glances down to see a tuft of black hair. June has an arm slung around her waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck as he places gentle kisses on every surface of skin he can reach.
“Morning,” he grumbles when he feels her stir and Tara mumbles out a sleepy greeting of her own. She closes her eyes and is about to go back to sleep when there’s a drastic shift in the bed.
In the next second, June straddles her waist, cheeky grin on display when she opens her eyes in shock. He leans down for a kiss and she grimaces, pushing his face away, “We haven’t even brushed our teeth yet,” she protests weakly but June simply grabs her wrists and lifts them above her head, effectively trapping her.
Her chest rises with the action, a bare breast escaping the confines of the warm blanket and the cold air causes her nipple to pebble. June, noticing this, gives her a wolfish grin before swooping and encasing it in his mouth. The wet heat, completely unexpected, causes Tara to let out a breathy moan, eyes shutting at the pleasure and June chuckles against her.
He continues to lick and suck across her chest, dropping a sweet kiss onto her Mark before he shuffles further down her body, tongue trailing across her waist.
She’s still incredibly sore and sensitive from last night but June doesn’t push too far, simply teases until she’s a wanton mess underneath him. When he enters her, he does it slowly and delicately, enjoying the way her face screws up in pleasure. His pace is slow but deep, his hands cradling hers in his palms and he leans down to place another kiss atop her soul Mark. He enjoys the bare feel of her, having done away with condoms after the first two rounds when the plastic had only angered him. So when he releases into her, she feels everything.
He tugs the skin of her neck between his teeth, biting at the skin softly, “Mine,” he whispers into her skin, dropping a kiss onto the sensitive area.
A hand brushes the hair that has fallen into his face out of the way, another lifting his chin so that he’s looking at her, “Of course,” she smiles softly and this time June can’t resist lowering his lips to hers in a heated kiss.
A while later, while they lounge around in bed, June lifts his head from where it had been resting on Tara’s chest, “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead,” Tara nudges him with her chin.
“Why don’t you like seafood?”
She looks at him for a moment before chuckling, “My father was a fisherman,” she tells him, “And as an occupational hazard, our house always smelt of fish,” her eyes turn sad at the memory, “I used to get teased a lot in school. So it’s not so much that I hate seafood, I just have issues with the smell.”
June places a kiss to her neck, “If I’d been there, I would have punched them all, defended your honor,” he mumbles into her skin.
“Oh?” she quips playfully, “My knight in shining armor, are you?”
“Knight is probably pushing it,” June snickers, “Maybe a charming, handsome, swashbuckling pirate.”
Tara sighs with a chuckle, “You need to stop reading my book.”
“It’s a good book,” June huffs.