“I never said it was,” Andie said, her voice tight. She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want someone telling her how to feel, especially not Jack.
“Don’t brush this away like it doesn’t matter,” he continued. “Don’t pretend you’re fine because you’re afraid to bother people with what you think is trivial. It’s not. You matter, okay? You matter. I know you. I know how you are. You won’t let anyone in because you refuse to depend on anyone but yourself. Let me in. Let me take care of you.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she asked, furrowing her brow. “I’m here in your home. This is new for me. I don’t think you realize how far I’ve come in trusting you. What more do you want from me?”
“I—” He stopped and rubbed his lips together. His eyes went from conflicted to searching in a snap and he took a step forward. “Why did you go with him?”
Andie inhaled and looked away. The first and primary reason was because of Keirah. She wanted to look around the bank when it was empty in hopes of finding some clues that would prove she hadn’t been going crazy, that Keirah had been a part of the robbery in some way; that she left a message or something that would give Andie a hint of where she was and that she was all right.
But there was a second reason that propelled her to leave. She could never admit it, of course, because that would mean admitting that she actually liked Jack, in a way neither professional nor platonic. She liked him and she wasn’t quite ready to deal with that yet. In fact, her stomach churned with guilt at the thought of knowing Keirah was gone somewhere, yet Andie was still able to fall for him. And she couldn’t have that. She had to find her sister, and that meant doing whatever it took, including not being consumed with jealousy to the point of running off with strange older men to an abandoned bank.
Andie had to grow up, and she had to do it now.
“My sister,” she explained, flicking her eyes up to meet Jack’s. “You’ve seen the new video footage of the bank robbery, haven’t you?” At his nod, she continued. “The girl in the miniskirt, the one the robber uses as a hostage? That’s my sister. I know that’s Keirah. And I know it sounds crazy, but I thought that … I don’t know, that maybe she left me some kind of message to tell me she’s okay, something only I would recognize.”
“Andie.” He said her name through a sigh and she hated how pitying it sounded. “The police went through the bank up and down, left and right. If she did leave something for you, it’s probably gone.”
“I had to try.” She hadn’t meant to snap. She didn’t want to fight, but her emotions got the best of her and she couldn’t stop the words as they left her mouth. “I thought you’d be happy about it. You got to be alone with your date. I’m sure Bernal and I were taking away from a romantic dinner.”
His eyes darkened again, but this time, as Andie looked at them, something settled around her body and gave her a nudge. For whatever reason, she was getting a sense of déjà vu and she didn’t know why.
“I don’t even remember her name,” he told her, a frustrated growl lacing his voice. “I couldn’t even tell you what color her eyes were. I couldn’t care less about who she is and what her place is in this world. Do you really think I would ever come to a business meeting with some insignificant girl if there wasn’t a reason behind it? If I wanted to fuck her, I could have. The restaurant is attached to a hotel that I happen to own. Dinner wasn’t about her. It wasn’t about getting laid or being romantic. It was about keeping an eye on you.”
“I’m not five,” Andie said, scrunching her brow. So much for not fighting. “I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, obviously.”
He regretted the cutting barb the instant the words were out of his mouth, but Andie didn’t care. She still felt as though he had slapped her, causing her to look away. She wasn’t certain, but she could swear he took a step toward her so his knees were brushing the side of the bed. When he murmured her name, she whipped her head around, wishing she could mask the tears that had so quickly accumulated in her eyes.
“You weren’t there,” she told him. “I got away and—” Just thinking about the previous night pushed the tears down her face but she refused to look away. She tightened her voice, willing it to come out firm, if a little shaky. “I don’t know what would have happened if the Black Wing hadn’t shown up. But I fought and I got away, and somehow, the Black Wing knew something was going on in the bank. He showed up right when I needed him. I don’t know how. I don’t understand how the one time I’m in trouble, he’s there, and yet, somehow, Keirah is kidnapped by some fucking psycho twice and she still hasn’t been found. I don’t get it. I just don’t—” She stopped. “I’m grateful. I’m really and truly grateful, and yet, I can’t help but wonder why God let me be saved and not Keirah.”
“It’s not God,” Jack corrected gently. He dropped to his knees so they were eye level and placed both hands on either side of her body. “It’s about making choices based on the knowledge you have.” His voice was low and Andie felt her body calm down just listening to it. She could probably fall back asleep if he continued to talk like that. “Sometimes, people’s choices are outside of our control. There’s nothing we can do about that. Hey.” He reached up and tilted her chin down so she was looking into his eyes. She ignored the tingling from his touch, ignored the butterflies tumbling around in her stomach, ignored the fact that if she rose her head up only a millimeter, her lips would be on his. “What happened to your sister isn’t your fault. What happened to you last night isn’t your fault. You have to believe that.”
“But my choices were wrong,” she said, her eyes gathering more tears. “I shouldn’t have let Keirah leave. I should have told my mom. I shouldn’t have left the restaurant with Bernal. I should have listened to you.”
“We all make choices that might not be right, but that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
“Really?” She arched a disbelieving brow. His lips quirked up but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So what do I do?”
“Well, for one,” he drawled, reaching his free hand up in order to brush her bangs away from her eyes, “you should realize that you have people who care about you and want to be there for you, if you’ll just let them in. You can’t do everything alone, Andie. You weren’t meant to. And secondly, you do things you can control, that are in your power. The tricky part is fin ding what you can and can’t control.”
Andie let his words sink in for a long moment. She wasn’t sure how it was possible that he could work her up in one minute and calm her down the next. He was the only person who had this power over her, and what surprised her was that she didn’t seem to mind. Not one bit.
“You’re right,” she said. “You’re right. And I know what I can do.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m going to press charges.” An idea popped into her head and she lifted her brow. “Wait, did the Black Wing get him? He has been arrested, right? Or did Bernal get away while the Black Wing brought me here?”
Jack looked away and cupped the back of his neck with his palm. “Technically, yes,” he said slowly.
“Technically?”
“Well, he’s in police custody,” he explained. “But he’s is in the hospital. I guess the Black Wing lost it. He’s alive, but he was beaten. Badly.”
32
Keirah
The man known as Kane was much more intimidating in person than the papers depicted. He was incredibly tall, standing at six foot seven. He had muscles on his muscles, and he could probably break Keirah’s neck with one bare hand.
It was the next day, and currently she and Noir were standing in an abandoned warehouse on the other side of the Zone. It took the couple a good twenty minutes to reach the destination, and when they stepped out of Noir’s shabby car, Keirah noted how ominous the place was. She could not believe she was here. She could not believe the charade she had participated in had grown the way it had.
Video footage of yesterday’s
bank robbery was replayed over and over on the news. Leirah and Noir watched it late last night. The story of Noir’s mysterious savior covered the front page of every newspaper, many of them questioning her role. Some believed she was a hooker, some believed she was a new accomplice, and some speculated it might be the girl Noir originally kidnapped, Keirah herself. It was the first time the papers even hinted that she had been kidnapped. No one thought that it was just an ordinary citizen who wanted to prevent the loss of life, even if that meant saving Noir. Before they left this morning, she watched Commissioner Jarrett give a press conference, and when someone made the suggestion that it could be Keirah, he immediately dismissed the idea as being preposterous, even borderline slanderous. Keirah’s heart broke at his utter faith in her, but it broke even more knowing that if Andie saw the footage, she would know it really was her. Andie would know.
“Don’t think I’ve changed you, my love,” Noir had warned her, noticing her reaction as she watched the news. “You cannot, hum … change a person to the extent of having them, well, break the law.” When Keirah responded with a pointed glare, the only reaction she received was one of his blood-curdling laughs.
When Noir first told Keirah they were visiting Kane, she hadn’t believed him. She should have known better. He was very explicit about what he wanted her to wear: jeans, a T-shirt underneath an old hoodie, and tennis shoes. Although he never explained the motives for his demands, Keirah liked to think he was doing it as a way of protecting her and was oddly touched by the gesture. Looking at Kane now, she was glad Noir was firm in regards to her attire. She felt as though the masked man could see through the layers of clothing she wore and had to tense her muscles to keep from continually shifting her weight under his blatant stare.
It would seem Kane was wondering who Keirah was as well, because his stare was nothing short of intense. His face was square, the majority of it hidden behind a simple black mask. He wore an exquisite tuxedo, complete with tails, and a soft pink rosebud attached to his lapel. Keirah picked up little habits he had that she didn’t think he noticed. He was subconsciously fascinated with tugging on his silver cufflinks whenever he glanced at Noir. Whenever his eyes landed on her, his lips curled into a smirk.
“Who is this?” Kane asked in a melodious, booming voice. His eyes were now on Noir.
“Oh,” he replied, his tone careless. “She’s just my sssoulmate.”
Kane took a step toward her in order to look at her more closely, but it was a step too close. Noir moved in front of Keirah, and though his smile was still splattered across his lips, his eyes were as hard and cold as Kane’s.
“I’m just looking,” Kane said. His amused smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah, well, you’re ah, looking too close,” Noir replied, his controlled voice abrupt.
Kane let out a deep, low chuckle. “What do we have here?” he asked, looking at his former partner. “I would have expected it from anyone but you. You let her crawl underneath your skin. You now have a weakness. I would think you of all people would know better.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Though I must commend you on your choice. She is quite the beaut, isn’t she? Have you broken her in yet?”
“We are trailing off topic,” Noir snarled through his yellow teeth.
“Do you know he’s never had a partner before?” Kane asked, ignoring Noir and looking at Keirah. “Except me, of course, before Onyx. Where did he find you? You look too clean to be a whore, but then again, he does know how to clean someone up.”
“I suggest you desist from speaking to her,” Noir growled, narrowing his bronzed eyes. “We came here for, uh, a specific reason, namely why are you here?”
Keirah could feel the tension radiating off of his lithe frame, and she swallowed, hoping Noir didn’t do anything stupid that would risk his life once again.
“Well, I’ll tell ya, champ,” he replied, and Keirah could see Noir’s jaw pop at the endearment. The iciness of his eyes quickly frosted over. “You know why I’m here. You know why we were sent here. Time is running out. You use psychology to put fear in people, when it is so much easier to corrupt them with visuals.”
“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 aloof 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 came 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 their positions from yesterday; she was now on the coffee table facing him with the intent of mending his wound. Speaking of which, her stitches were starting 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 brows pushed together, 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 gentle ministrations and even parted her lips to allow him entry 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 they pulled her to him so she was in his lap. Noir tilted his body so he could lie on the couch, and she remained on top of him. Neither broke the kiss, too lost in the moment. His fingers slid from her hips, 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, stifling 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 of their own accord, 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 attentions, his hands slid underneath her shirt and pressed 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 th
eir 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, 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 the hope 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 discarded a few hours prior. 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 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 free of the thoughts that had been in the back of his mind for a while now and had 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, making 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 with her warmth. But he couldn't, and so he forced himself to tear his eyes away from her sleeping form. With hands stuffed in his pockets, he walked out of the apartment and into the bitter night. He had no intended destination. He just needed the air, needed to clear his head of his very befuddled thoughts.
Awaken: Book 1 in The Dark Paradise Chronicles Page 26