"Come on, Zee. You really think I would let anything happen to you?"
Zelene didn’t know how to answer that. He had literally thrown himself into harm’s way to keep her safe today. But he had also gone out of his way to make her life miserable since their breakup.
Kyle sat up and flipped through the channels furiously as she thought this over. When she didn’t respond, he tossed the remote down on the bed with a huff.
"Dammit, are you serious? I might be an asshole, but I'm not heartless. I'm not going to knowingly let someone get hurt, let alone you. We grew up together."
"But you hate me," she pressed as she sat up, her raspy voice thick with uncertainty. She flinched at the dirty look he directed at her. "Sorry. I just...I never would have guessed in a million years you would be the person helping me when I'm running for my life. But I'm glad you did. That you are, I mean. It makes me hate you a little less."
"Only a little, huh?"
She returned his chuckle with a smirk. "Heroics go so far when you're still an asshole."
"Very true," he said.
Zelene turned her attention back to the flickering images on the television, though not really registering what she was seeing. Her stomach flipped around, and her mind was conflicted. She felt like they were moments away from making everything better between them, but she didn’t know how it possibly could be after everything that had happened. She hadn’t meant to kill that man, but it had happened. There was no escaping that. She pulled the blanket a little tighter around her, wishing it could shield her from the truth.
"I don't hate you," Kyle blurted out.
She turned toward him, a dubious look on her face. "Coulda fooled me."
He stared at the comforter, his finger tracing the pattern of yellow flowers. "Breaking up with you and everything I did…It was never about hating you. You just—I...."
"I didn't fit into your world anymore?"
He winced as she threw his words in his face once again. "Something like that. It's a long story, and you've got enough on your mind right now."
He wasn’t wrong about that. She wasn’t sure she could take much more, so she didn’t push the topic. At the cue of her rumbling stomach, she decided to change the subject.
"We could order pizza.”
"I wonder who delivers here. I'm not even really sure where we are, to be honest."
"Call the front desk and ask them," she suggested as he stretched his stiff arms above him. "Oh—Kyle, you have blood on your shirt."
"Shit," he muttered and went to the sink. He grabbed a rag, ran it under some water, and scrubbed, cussing more and more as the spots refused to come out of his favorite button-up shirt. "How noticeable is the blood?"
Zelene walked over and took the rag from him, trying her hand at scrubbing his shirt. "Maybe we should run the stain under some water. Take your shirt off."
"Right here?"
"First of all, I've seen you way more naked than what you are about to be. Second of all, after everything we just went through, are you seriously getting squeamish about taking your shirt off in front of me? I was buck-naked in there," she said pointing to the shower, "and you didn't seem to mind."
With no better retort, he childishly mimicked her words and started unbuttoning his shirt. "Point taken. Just try to contain yourself, okay?"
"Please. I still hate you, remember? Shock can do a hell of a lot of things, but I'm not that far gone."
"Ouch—still hate me even after I saved your life?"
"You did spend the last six months trying to make the life you just saved miserable. And I'm sure that's not going to change once all this is over. You are still an asshat."
"True," he grunted as he tried to wiggle out of the sleeves. He stilled as her hands reached over and slid the shirt off him. "Thanks."
She frowned as he winced in pain. "You didn't tell me you were hurt."
"It's not a big deal."
She turned him around so she could look at his injured back, which was discolored around his shoulder blade. "How did this happen?"
"He threw me up against something. The fridge, I think. I don't know—it's sort of hazy, you know?"
“I know what you mean.” She grabbed the bucket from the side of the sink. "I'll go get some ice."
Kyle whipped around, grabbing her by the wrist and yanking her back to him. "No, I'll be fine," he insisted with an edge of panic in his voice. "Just...don't leave the room without me, okay? For all we know, they're looking for us right outside."
Zelene blanched at the idea of this, throwing a tentative look to the door as she took an automatic step closer to him. "Sorry, I didn't think."
His hand was still wrapped around her wrist, though his grip had loosened. Their hands hung in the air between them, the connection igniting the spark that always lingered with them. Zelene could feel that familiar heat pulling them closer, almost like Kyle was a magnet that always pulled her in.
"I'm sorry, too,” he whispered as he linked his fingers through hers. “I didn't mean to...you just freaked me out. I don't want anything to happen to you."
She searched his eyes, questioning the sincerity in them without words. "Why are you being so nice to me?"
"Old habits."
"Maybe it’s the shock talking, but I'm glad you’re here with me."
"It must be the shock because I am too."
"Because we hate each other," she continued as she drifted closer. "So acting any different is...weird."
He shook his head, hooking his arm around her waist. "We don't hate each other."
"We don't?" she asked as she glanced up from beneath her lashes at him. "I'm pretty sure I hate you."
He smirked confidently. "Show me how much you hate me, then."
"I can't right now. You’ve got the whole hero thing going on. I'm just too appreciative."
"Hero, huh? I like the sound of that." He took a few steps forward, guiding her towards the wall behind them. "For someone who hates me, you sure can't keep your hands off me."
She gasped as he lifted her off the ground. She snaked her arms around his neck and allowed him to grab her knees and wrap them around his waist. "I could say the same for you."
"It must be the shock."
"Must be," she agreed in a soft whisper, leaning forward to find his lips. She knotted her fingers in his hair as their kiss deepened, and he pressed her into the wall. She gasped as he kissed his way down her neck, pulling the strap of her tank top off her shoulder. "Bed," she panted.
He nodded his agreement into her neck, getting a better grip on her legs as he walked them over to the bed and threw her across the mattress. He continued trailing kisses down her body until he reached her stomach, lifting her shirt so he could get to the skin underneath. Their hands found each other, linking together and tightening as if they couldn't get close enough.
She surprised him by abruptly pulling away. "Wait."
He raised his head to look at her. "What's wrong?"
"Tell me why," she said simply though the heavy question that had been unspoken threatened to suffocate them, sucking all of the air from the room.
"Are you trying to get me to tell you how hot you are?"
She pressed her lips into a tight frown, lifting herself onto her elbows to get a better view of him. "No. The past six months. Tell me why."
He groaned, sliding off the bed and resting his chin on her knees where her legs dangled over. "You mean why I broke up with you? Or why I've been such an asshole to you?"
"Both, I guess. I just don't understand. You've been hot and cold so much over the past year."
"Really? What happened to me being an asshole? Cause I'm pretty sure ‘asshole’ would lean on the cold side, not hot."
"Most of the time, yeah. But sometimes I felt like I could see the old you. The way you'd watch me..."
"Does it matter?"
She jerked away from him, pulling herself into a seated position as his dismissal made her wonder if the old
him had ever really existed. "What do you mean? Of course it does. You and your band of miscreants have done nothing but make my life miserable since you dumped me. How can all you put me through not matter?"
"I mean, I'm here now. Doesn't that count for something? Doesn't everything we’ve been through today sort of negate any past indiscretions?"
She eyed him contemplatively. "Not enough to warrant sleeping with you."
"Who said anything about sleeping?" he murmured, earning him a punch in the arm. "Owe! I was kidding. Look, we don't have to do anything, okay? We just got...carried away. Life or death situation and all that. We can order a pizza."
"What is the thing about life or death situations that is so sexy anyway? Is it the idea of not being able to have sex again?"
He stood up and stretched dramatically, flexing his muscles along the way. "Nah, it's nothing to do with the situation. It's all about the god of a man standing bare chested before you."
She laughed loudly and threw a pillow at him. "You might be in hero status right now, but you are far from a god, my friend."
"Friend, huh? I'm winning you over, I see."
"Go put a shirt on."
"Mine is bloodied, remember?" He let out an annoyed breath. "You would think if Varrick had enough foresight to create a fake ID for me, he would have thought to pack me some clothes too."
"You'd think. You order food, and I'll see what I can do about your shirt." She went over to the sink, picking up the shirt from where she had dropped it.
"Good plan," he agreed as he lifted the receiver and dialed the front desk, who let them know there were some delivery menus in the other nightstand.
They had just decided on Chinese food when a knock at the door echoed across the room, shattering the reprieve Zelene had started to feel as her heart sank with a sense of foreboding. She quickly turned off the dryer, where she had been attempting to dry the wet spots on Kyle's shirt, and turned to him with wide eyes. "Varrick?" she whispered.
"He would have called," he said, eyeing the door with worry.
"Kyle?" His cousin’s voice called from outside the door. "I know you're in there."
Zelene’s shoulders slumped with relief, but it quickly dissipated as Kyle tensed up even more.
"Shit," he hissed. He placed a finger over his lips to indicate Zelene should be quiet.
"It's Dean," she whispered. "Just let him in."
Before he could argue, the electronic lock unlatching sounded and the door opened. Dean strolled in, eyeing his shirtless cousin and the wide-eyed girl behind him. He tossed the key card on the coffee table and sighed.
"I had the desk clerk give me a key with promises not to let his boss know he had allowed a minor to pay for a hotel room without permission from his legal guardian." Dean shook his head. His puffy cheeks gave him the appearance of always looking like a cocky jerk, though somehow Zelene was sure he was trying to look smug at the moment.
"How'd you find us?" Kyle stepped in front of Zelene.
"Your phone has a GPS chip," Dean answered as he lifted his own phone from his pocket and wiggled the small black device to add to the effect of his speech. "This allows parents to track their kids with one little app and a small fee to their plan. I thought someday it might come in handy. Seems like I was right."
Zelene hoped she was imagining the threat in Dean's voice, but somehow she doubted her imagination was causing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand at attention.
Kyle seemed to be feeling it too as his hand reached behind him to find her hand and give it a squeeze. "Okay, so why were you tracking me?"
Dean lifted his hands in mock question. "You didn't come home after school. I was worried."
"Chill, Kyle, he's your cousin," Zelene urged from behind him as she slid his still-damp shirt up his arms.
Dean folded his hands behind his back in a gentlemanly stance and stepped forward. "Now, might I ask what you are doing here with young Zelene?"
Zelene’s heart flipped around in her chest. She didn’t like the way he said her name. Or the way he was looking at her as she peered around Kyle, who was demonstrating his ability to lie with ease though his grip threatened to break her fingers.
"Isn't it obvious? We decided to hook up again and wanted some privacy."
Dean laughed with disbelief. "You could have simply hung a sock on your door. You've gone through a lot of trouble for a romantic getaway. Or a tryst, whatever this is."
"We didn't want anyone to ask questions or say anything. You know how her foster parents are. If they even think she's stepped out of line, they go off on her."
They both jumped as his phone buzzed. Zelene recognized Varrick’s number on the screen as she looked over Kyle’s shoulder. He flipped open the phone, his attention never leaving his cousin as he spoke.
"Hey man, I can't talk. Dean just got here, and he's sort of interrupting things…Yeah, I'm with a chic. Awkward. Can you call me back later? Thanks."
Zelene understood the hidden meaning of Kyle’s one-sided conversation well. Kyle was telling Varrick that he was still with Zelene, but that Dean was here as well. And for some reason, that meant they were in trouble.
Dean nodded knowingly as Kyle ended the call. "Friend of yours?"
"Yeah, which reminds me. Why didn't you call me? I could have saved you a long drive," Kyle challenged.
"Come now, cousin, I would have come anyway." Dean pointed to Zelene. "I'm here for her."
Zelene let out a strangled noise of protest as Dean stared feverishly at her. Whatever game they were playing, she knew it was up now.
Dean nodded in a patronizing way. "Yes, my dear princess. I was supposed to be the discreet means by which you were disposed of. You see, we didn't want any unnecessary questions raised here that might alert anyone to our existence. Unfortunately, this one," he nodded toward Kyle, "has done a very good job at ensuring I never had a discreet way to get to you. Until now, of course."
"Kyle," Zelene asked in a trembling voice, "what is he talking about? Why does your cousin want to kill me?"
Kyle backed up so his body pressed against hers protectively, his arm reaching around behind her to hold her close to him. "I have no idea. But I'm starting to think he's not actually my cousin."
"No," Dean sighed regretfully, "I'm not. The paperwork to prove I was and gain legal guardianship over you was quite easy, and I have grown quite fond of you over this past year. I really don't want to hurt you if I don't have to. So step away from Ainnir Zelene, and let me do my job. Then I'll buy you a beer or something."
Kyle stiffened with resolve as he firmed his stance directly in Dean's path to Zelene. "Not happening. You want her, you go through me first."
Dean didn’t look to be bothered by this obstacle. "Have it your way." With the flick of his wrist, Kyle flew through the air, crashing into the tile of the bathroom wall and sliding to the ground.
Time slowed for Zelene the instant Kyle was thrown across the room. Her entire world changed in the second that passed as Dean flicked his wrist, and she couldn’t begin to understand how. She screamed Kyle’s name and tried to run for him, but Dean's hand shifted to her, and she found herself slammed into the sink behind her. She cried out in pain and fell to the ground.
"Please, Dean. Don't do this. Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I take it back, I swear."
He strolled over casually and wrapped his hand around her neck, lifting her off the ground as she clawed at his knuckles. "I'm not like the psychotic idiot they sent to your home. I'll make your death as quick and as painless as possible. You have to understand that this isn’t personal in any way. Your death means peace for the worlds, and someone has to be the monster for the betterment of us all. I truly am sorry."
Zelene whimpered as she felt his fingers tighten around her windpipe. She had no idea what he was talking about but she hated him for it nonetheless. She hated him for what he had done to Kyle and what he was about to do to her in the name of the supposed noble cause masking w
hat she saw as his insanity. Mostly, she hated him for how helpless she felt as her fingers grasped the counter behind her for any kind of weapon.
Dean’s eyes widened, his grip slackening as he let out a cough and crumpled to the ground. Zelene gasped and dropped down with him. She rubbed her throat and looked around to find Varrick standing over her. He offered her a clean hand up, his other hand dripping blood and still holding what looked to be Dean’s heart.
She fought the bile rising in her throat, forcing herself to speak. “What the hell…”
Varrick followed her gaze to the bloodied mess in his hand. He shrugged and tossed it in the nearby trashcan before washing his hands. “I was the one who called Kyle. I got here as quick as I could.”
Hearing Kyle’s name stirred her from the shock of the past few minutes. She rushed over to Kyle, who was unconscious in the bathtub. "Kyle? Kyle, you have to wake up." She could feel his breath on her skin as she lifted his face with her hands. "We have to take him to the hospital, Varrick."
"No time," Varrick said as he pulled her to her feet.
She looked down at her palms, which had blood on them from where she had touched Kyle's head. She jerked from Varrick's grip and looked up at him with disdain. "No time? Varrick he's bleeding to death. We have to help him."
"We'll call an ambulance after we leave. But we have to go. Now."
Zelene straightened, her shoulders leveling with resolve as she stared at him. "No. I am not leaving him."
Varrick yanked his sunglasses off and rubbed his face before looking at his charge again. She took a step back at the sight of his eyes, which were still pools of black since Ariana was still in danger. "It happens when you’re in danger," he answered to the unasked question.
"But I'm fine now," she argued.
"Your sister isn't," he snapped, his accent thicker from frustration. "I'll explain later, but right now we have to get moving. I'm sure Dean wasn't the only one they sent here to get the job done."
"Not until I know Kyle's okay." She took a step forward, sensing his frustration and the urgency of the situation, but her main concern was the young man lying unconscious below the smear of his blood painting the walls. "I get it, Varrick. People are after me for some insane reason. I didn't exactly miss the memo with this being the second person to try to kill me tonight. But if we leave Kyle after everything he's done, after the way he's put my life before his, then we're no better than whoever it is who wants me dead." She stared up at the fierce man in front of her, her voice cracking as she began to plead with him. "I have to know he's okay, Varrick. I can't just leave him like this. Not after everything." She sucked in a breath to try to calm herself down. "I need to know he's okay."
Heirs of War Page 11