“You know nothing about, well, about pure corruption,” Noir shot back. Kane glared at him and without any warning, punched Noir in the face. Keirah’s body reacted to the hit, taking a step toward him, but she forced herself not to touch him. She didn’t want to tarnish his intimidating reputation, but her worry for him was written clearly in her brown eyes. She was surprised he showed no pain after such a hard hit.
“Well, well,” Kane said, shifting his eyes to Keirah. “I had no idea she had the same feelings for you that you have for her. I think this meeting is going splendidly, don’t you? Very revealing, I’d say.” A pause as he turned his attention back to his former partner. “Now that you know my purpose, I suggest you take your pretty little thing and leave. If you care about her, you won’t interfere. If you don’t, then by all means, risk her life with your stupid games.” He cleared his throat and regarded her again. “I’m always here if you get tired of playing with a boy when you could be playing with a man.” He grinned. “I could make it worth your while.”
She glared at him with fiery eyes. “I prefer where I am, thanks,” Keirah murmured firmly.
“Suit yourself,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as Noir began to lead her out of the room. “But I promise you I’ll be coming for you. And your precious Noir won’t be able to stop me.”
His words sent shivers up and down her spine, and she had to suppress a shudder.
When the two returned to their humble apartment, Keirah led Noir inside and made sure he sat down on the couch. The two had reversed positions since yesterday; she was now on the coffee table facing him with the intent to mend his wound. Speaking of which, her stitches were staring to itch and made a mental note to ask him later when he’d remove them. Right now, her focus was on the task at hand. She wanted to make sure his face was all right. Her brown eyes brimmed with concern as she studied him, her brow pushed together, making a vertical indentation between them. She nibbled on her bottom lip, afraid she might do something wrong, but after moments of searching, found nothing besides a bruise that would take shape on the left side of his face.
Once Keirah dropped her hands from his face, Noir wasted no time. He took her cheeks in his palms and pulled her to him. She felt no reservations this time. When their lips finally met, she felt herself respond to his general ministrations and even parted her lips to allow him entrance to her mouth. His tongue explored every inch and her tongue fought for dominance with his. It was only when he tilted her head back that he not only deepened the kiss but regained control. His hands slid down her back until they found her hips and pulled her to him so she was in his lap. Noir tilted his body so he could lie on the couch, and she continued to remain on top of him. Neither broke the kiss, too lost in the moment. His fingers slid from her hips so they buried underneath the hemline of her hoodie. Before Keirah knew it, her jacket was pushed up over her head and thrown carelessly into the floor. Her lips sought out his throat and she began placing kisses up and down it as his thumbs caressed her hip bones. She bit her lip, concealing the majority of the moan.
“I want to hear you, princess,” he murmured, looking up at her through hazy eyes.
Before Keirah could react, Noir began kissing and nipping her neck. Keirah felt her eyes close on their own accord, simply feeling the way his lips touched her skin. She sighed, pushing up her hand until her fingers lost themselves in his messy hair. As he continued his ministrations, his hands slid underneath her shirt and pressed them flat against her stomach. Slowly, he inched them up, his fingers tracing patterns on her skin as they did so. Keirah’s eyes flew open so they locked with his and she swallowed. Her heart was beating so fast she was certain he could feel it shake her chest.
At that moment, he removed his hands from under her shirt and tossed one arm underneath her knees and one around her back. He pulled her into his arms and made his way into their bedroom. As he walked, Keirah began to kiss his jaw line, loving the sharp angles of his face. When they reached the bed, he softly placed her down in the center and proceeded to look at her for a long moment. Her brown eyes were nearly black, her cheeks flushed. Her lips were parted, breathless, and her brown hair was nothing short of messy. Her arms reached up and with a hesitant look of determination, began to untie his tie. She could feel his eyes on her and her fingers shook with every movement.
“Are you, uh, afraid of me?” he asked her, cocking his head to the side as she let the silk material slip between her fingers and fall to the floor.
“Yes,” she said, nodding once. “I’ve never … I’ve never done this before.”
Noir swallowed, his eyes softened, and he pulled Keirah in for a tender kiss. It was a promise of what was to come, and Keirah intended that he keep it.
He needed to get out of there.
What time was it? The ticking clock read 3:23. Despite the darkness that slid through the blinds, Noir could easily read the device; he had been used to isolation, and as such, had gotten used to distinctly making out objects even in the dead of night. He made sure that he was quiet and careful in hopes that he wouldn't wake his sleeping princess. He really did need to be alone. Noir slid out of the bed and threw on some of his clothes that had been previously discarded due to the activity that took place a few hours ago. He didn't care about his appearance at that moment, or else he would have ironed his shirt, tucked it in, and thrown on his vest. But seeing at how early it was, he didn't care.
Before leaving the room, he slipped on his worn Converses and turned to cast one last look at her. Keirah. He wasn’t sure what she was to him now. A lover? A friend? Something more? Something less? He shook his head of the thoughts that had been in the back of his mind for a while now and had recently come full-force since the night's intimate activity. Gazing at her in the darkness, the moonlight from outside seeped through the little cracks in the boarded window cascading onto her delicate facial features which made him inhale sharply. God, she was beautiful. Her eyes, when they were looking at him, were filled with so many emotions at one time, causing the brown irises to shimmer. Her nose was long and upturned. Her lips were full, and due to recently acquired experience, he knew they were as soft as they looked. Currently, they were parted slightly as she slept, and he had to resist the urge to remove the clothes he just put on and crawl back into bed so he could surround himself in her warmth. But he couldn't, and so he forced himself to tear his eyes away from her sleeping form. With his hands stuffed in his pockets, he walked out of the apartment and into the bitter night. There was no intended destination. He just needed the air, needed to clear his head of his very befuddled thoughts.
The man had never found himself with conflicting emotions before. He was always incredibly sure of himself, sure of his decisions, and never looked back once they were made. He had no regrets and nothing he had to amend. Now … even he could not deny that what had taken place between he and Keirah changed something inside of him, and he wasn’t sure what that was. He had so many questions, all of them worrisome: Would she continue to stay with him throughout his criminal career? Would she wake up in the next few hours regretting what had taken place? Would she want to leave? Did he want her to leave?
No. Of course not.
But …
He hated to admit it, but Kane was right. Keirah was a liability. Noir found it rather odd that he actually cared for somebody's welfare other than his own. He never had, and probably never would again. He knew from the minute he laid eyes on her, sitting behind that desk at Hawkins’ practice, that something about her was off, not quite right. Now here he was, wandering the streets of the Zone in the middle of the night, wondering what to do and how he was feeling. He remembered when he first told her he loved her, and now he was afraid there might actually be validity behind the words. There was never a moment in his life when he felt as connected as he had felt with her a few hours ago. He had never opened up to anybody in that way previously, and the emotions that came afterward frightened him to no end. He didn't want to feel all
of these things, and yet, deep down, he knew he couldn't—wouldn’t—turn her away. Nothing would hurt him more than if something or someone actually hurt her. Of course, he would never admit this out loud, but he felt it nonetheless. They would always have that to hold against him.
Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as long as he got to hold her against him.
At this moment, he had to figure out if she was worth his life all while wondering if she felt that he was worth hers. To be completely uncaring as a criminal was something he had achieved with ease. He didn't have to worry about anybody; his life was in his hands, and it was an easy tool to bargain with. Just the thought of anyone looking at her the wrong way caused his blood to boil, and he gritted his teeth. He couldn't be a good villain and love somebody at the same time, could he?
When Keirah awoke the next morning, she immediately noticed Noir’s lack of presence. Before she could stop herself, a tiny frown caused her lips to turn down into a subtle pout. After blinking a couple of times to get used to the light seeping through the boards, she yawned and stretched. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, bracing herself for the cold, and stood. She padded over to the dresser and immediately felt the soreness as a result of last night’s activity. Keirah blushed just thinking about it, but a smile touched her lips as she grabbed one of Noir’s collared shirts and threw it over her body. It went a few inches past her derrière, but she slipped on a pair of boy shorts so she wouldn’t accidentally flash anyone.
When her eyes flitted over to the piano, she walked over to it and sat on the bench. Her mind went back to the beautiful composition he played for her and hoped that maybe when he returned from wherever he was, he might play for her again. Her thoughts drifted over the previous night and though she had every reason to regret what happened, she didn’t.
She loved him. She knew it wasn’t the typical fairytale love, but it was a type of love, and just because it wasn’t normal didn’t mean it ranked any less than anyone else’s definition of the word. She loved him.
It was so much easier to believe now.
And she knew that in some form, he cared about her too.
Keirah yawned once again as she heard the door to the apartment open. A bright smile encompassed her face at the knowledge of his return, and she stood up and headed into the living room so she could greet him. However, instead of seeing the svelte form of her lover, Keirah found three unfamiliar men all dressed in black with a pink rosebud attached to the left side of their chest. They wore black and white face paint and golf caps. To Keirah, they looked like mimes. Her brows shot up at the exact moment her heart stopped; she knew something was wrong. Where was Noir? And who were these men?
The man in the middle grinned at her, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Keirah swallowed and unconsciously felt herself back up. They responded by splitting up and heading toward her. One went left, one went right, and the one in the middle came at her directly. There was little chance she could escape. Her knees shook as she dashed back to the bedroom, but before she could slam the door shut, the man in the middle managed to get inside.
She had no idea what to do. She wasn’t sure where Noir was, she wasn’t sure if he was all right, and she wasn’t sure what these men wanted. All she knew was that they were coming for her and they didn’t appear to be friendly.
The man leapt over the bed to grab her, but she managed to dodge him. She knew this was a losing battle, but she refused to go down without a fight. When he lunged at her again, she curled her fingers into a fist and packed as much power as she could into her punch. He didn’t seem to expect her to throw such a hit and actually staggered back, gripping his cheek. Keirah wasn’t sure what to do next. All she could feel was the searing pain that had erupted in her hand. The two other men walked into the room just as the one in the middle tackled her to the floor. He underestimated himself, and instead of hitting the ground, her head snapped back and hit the piano.
Everything went black.
It was roughly 8:30 in the morning when Noir decided to return from his walk. He was still conflicted about his unnecessary and unwarranted feelings for Keirah, which was odd since he had a solution to pretty much every problem. Even he couldn’t deny that whatever he felt for her was something, and though he was far from being a romantic, he didn’t exactly want to let that feeling go. He hadn’t grown bored of her in the couple of months that he had known her; rather, he grew more intrigued with her the more time he spent with her. To him, her eyes told him something new every day, and he loved peering into them. He loved touching her. He never knew a woman’s skin could feel so smooth. He loved talking to her and listening to her opinions. She was a mess of contradictions, which he found compelling, and she had yet to reprimand him for his deviant ways. She had this pureness in her heart that he doubted he could taint. A very small smile touched his lips as he headed back down the familiar streets, going unrecognized by passersby, and realized that at that moment, he was happy. And it was because of her.
Happiness, he knew, was a dangerous emotion. It was easier to take away than sadness and anger, and for a small moment, he let himself revel in it. Nobody had ever made him happy before. He knew he didn’t have to change for her, and he didn’t want her to change at all. He loved every inch of her skin, every wave in her hair, every mark on her body.
He smacked his lips with his tongue, a chuckle passing through them.
“Well, well, don’t you seem happy,” a voice said from behind Noir’s left side.
Noir halted in his tracks and glanced sideways at his new companion, giving him an expectant look. He really had no time for chit-chat, wanting nothing more than to return home and crawl back into bed with his princess. Any distractions that prevented him from doing such a thing could easily be fatal for the person who dared keep him from her.
The man looked oddly familiar, and it took a long moment before Noir remembered where he had seen him before. He worked for Kane. For whatever reason, Kane liked his men to dress like mimes. Noir arched his brow as a new thought took hold of his conscious. What in the hell was he doing in this part of the Zone? In fact, the way the man was staring caused anger to override his happiness. Something was wrong.
“What the hum … fuck are you doing here?” Noir asked.
“I would be happy, too,” the man said, too quickly to be confident, “if I woke up next to that bombshell every morning. A little thin for my taste, but man, what a pair of legs, huh?”
Before Noir could stop himself, he grabbed onto the black collar of the man’s shirt and easily lifted him off the ground.
“You had, ah, better be carefulllll about who you are, um, referring to,” he said, his voice still somewhat calm, his eyes flashing gold. People began to notice the scuffle, but nobody attempted to break it up. Not in the Zone. “Especially if you want to keep that mug of yours so, uh, attractive.”
Despite his fear, the man managed a nervous chuckle. “Oh, but see, I know who I’m referring to,” he told him. “Do you? Do you know where that lovely lady of yours is right now? Are you sure you know where she is because I can guarantee you, one hundred percent, she isn’t there. She’s gone.”
The blood coursing through Noir’s body went cold. Keirah was gone. Kane took her away from him. He had to get her back. Now. She was his, and for that reason, he knew Kane wanted her. With a push of his arms, he lodged the man into oncoming traffic without a backward glance and made his way back to the apartment with quickness no one knew he possessed.
After throwing open the door, he searched every crevice of the house: the living room, the bathroom, the money room where the cash was left untouched. When he walked into the bedroom, he already knew she was gone. His eyes took in everything they possibly could and came to a halt when they reached the piano. Crimson tainted two pure ivory keys. He took a step toward it, knowing exactly what it was but needing to see it up close anyway. He took his finger and swiped the majority of blood, looking at it through a slitted gaze. He touched
his fingers to both cheeks so her blood stained not only the piano but his scars as well.
He would get her back no matter what the cost.
Keirah woke up to a stabbing pain in the back of her head. Every pulse, every throb, was more painful than the last and she couldn’t suppress a groan that vibrated across her lips. It hurt to open her eyes, but she knew she had to. She had to see where she was. Before she did anything, a familiar scent wafted through her nose and calmed her with inner-peace. Noir’s shirt was still on her form and gave her the strength to crack open her eyes. A chuckle caused every hair on her body to stand at attention, and though she tried to focus on the silhouette in front of her, her vision was too blurry to do so.
“So you’re the girl that has ruined everything,” a familiar voice drawled. He was loud, causing her head to throb more violently, and she whimpered, curling her body in the fetal position. “Noir had one job, just one thing that was required of him: to corrupt Onyx City. Yet it seems you have corrupted him. But that’s okay, see, because I was sent here to teach him a lesson. He’ll be here. I’m counting on his attraction to you to lure him in. Maybe he doesn’t really care, though. Maybe he won’t come. You know, you could tell me where he is. I don’t want him to miss what I’m going to do to you.”
Keirah managed to look at Kane—though he became three figures rather than one—and croaked out, “I won’t tell you anything.”
“I was afraid you might say that,” he said with mock-disappointment. “However, I have ways of making people talk to me, even if my natural charm can’t. You think you’re in pain now? Just wait until I’m through with you.”
Awaken: Book 1 of the Dark Paradise Trilogy Page 26