by B. B. Reid
Her words trailed off when I tipped her head back to expose her neck to me. I spread hard nips all over her neck, being sure to leave a mark. “Keiran, stop,” she moaned and pulled me closer.
“No,” I growled against her neck. “I fucking missed you. I missed this. I missed tasting you.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” she whined with lust in her voice.
“Open the door, baby. Let me in, or I swear I’m going to fuck you hard right here for all the neighbors to see.”
“Oh, God.” The door opened quickly, and I had to anchor her to me to keep us from falling inside. I stole her lips in a kiss finally while I backed her through the door. I kicked the door shut and picked her up, carrying her through the hall and into the living room where I set her on her feet. It was as far as I needed to go for what I needed to do. “I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’m not supposed to give in to you.”
“You already have. Many times. What’s one more?”
“My life,” she whispered desperately while looking up at me.
“Not this time.” I sealed my vow with a kiss that threatened to steal my soul and hers. Fuck. What was she doing to me? I wasn’t supposed to care about hearts and minds and vows—much less admit I had either.
“Why are you here, Keiran? Seriously.” She pulled away from me to hug herself around her waist and fuck if I didn’t feel jealous of her arms.
“It’s Valentine’s day.”
“And? You don’t care about that stuff. You have no reason to.”
“But something tells me you do and every reason I have is standing right in front of me.”
“So what? This is supposed to be your grand gesture?”
“If dinner and a fucking movie are what you call a grand gesture, then I guess so,” I snapped. The more time she spent staring at me with a hard, distant look in her eyes, the more my confidence began to fade. The thought of her rejecting me irritated me—not that I could blame her if she did. This tug of war game between her and I had gone on for far too long.
“If this is your way of getting me into bed again, let me just warn you that you aren’t heading in the right direction.”
“Fuck.” I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “I’m not used to this. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
She walked up to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and whispered, “You can start my asking me to dinner properly.”
“Properly, huh? How would I do that?”
“You could say… ‘Lake will you go out with me?’”
“But I already know you will.”
Her arms left my neck before she turned around and headed for the stairs. “I’ll see you around. You can let yourself out.”
I felt the move before I could rethink and swept her up in my arms. “Don’t test my fucking patience.”
I bound up the stairs and headed straight for her bedroom where I dumped her on her bed.
I dropped my bag and quickly pulled out a long box. Her expression was fierce but still so damn cute as she shot daggers at me. I actually felt nervous when I extended it to her. She looked from it to me, but still didn’t move to take it.
“Don’t be a pain in my ass. Take the box. There is nothing in there that can hurt you.”
“Are you asking me to trust you?”
I realized I had no right to ask it of her, but I didn’t realize until recently just how much I needed it. “Yes.”
Her eyes watched mine for signs of insincerity while I held her gaze openly. I saw the decision in her eyes a split second before she slowly took the box from my grasp. Her fingers peeled back the box while I watched on silently. The paper was discarded, and when she saw what was inside, she stilled.
“Shoes? You got me shoes?” I hid the smile that tugged at my lips from the sound of disbelief and the look of disappointment. I had no clue what she would have hoped was inside, but I did know one thing now… she wanted more.
“Do you like them?”
“Yes. They are beautiful, but why all the fussing and threatening for shoes?” The suede heels were nude in color with a white heel that was just the right height. The top of the shoes fastened into perfect bows.
“I want you to wear them for me on our date tonight.”
“Back to that, are we?”
I took a deep breath and released it. “One way or another you are going on this date with me, so tell me what I need to do to make it okay with you?”
Her annoyed expression transformed into interest as she seemed to mull it over. When a sly grin appeared, I felt the stirrings of dread. I always seemed to forget this wasn’t the same girl I tortured mercilessly in the hallways of our school.
“Is this my glass slipper?”
“If I say yes, will you go out with me?”
“You could ask me—”
“I did—”
“On your knees.”
The gleam in her eye told me she found it funny, but I knew she was serious. She wanted me to beg.
Like hell I would beg.
But I knew another way to make her agree.
I sunk to my knees without argument while holding her gaze. She wore a satisfied smirk that quickly disappeared when I gripped her around her hips and yanked her forward.
For once, she didn’t talk. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she stared down at me. Desire mingled with nervousness in her eyes, and I could tell she wanted what was about to happen. It’s been way too fucking long.
“Keiran, wait—”
“No, baby. You wanted me to beg, right?” I pulled down her shorts. My hands were already ripping away her panties by the time they fell to her ankles. “Then let me beg.”
I nearly salivated at the sight of her bare pussy. I couldn’t wait another second and wasn’t about to. I gripped her left leg behind her knee and settled it on my shoulder while holding her gaze. She gripped my shoulders with her small hands, and I relaxed when I realized she wasn’t going to push me away.
My mouth descended early, and at the first swipe of my tongue, I felt her shiver and had to grip her tighter to keep her from falling. Her breathing was already heavy and deep, and as I continued to taste her, it became uneven. Her nails dug into my shoulders painfully, but it only spurred me to take more from her.
By the time she came, I was ready to skip the dinner reservations and eat her all night.
* * *
The drive was silent, and I had a hard time containing my drool. I managed to convince Lake to go to dinner after I made her come twice.
After I was done, she so very sweetly whispered over her labored breathing, “Happy Birthday” and then silently started to dress.
I found myself feeling happy it was my birthday for the first time ever. She was dressed in a pale pink and cream strapless dress that hugged her torso and flirted loosely around her legs.
The restaurant I took her to was one reluctantly recommended to me by Sheldon when I called her. It took a lot of convincing and bribing, but I managed to enlist her help setting up the night.
It might have been my birthday, but the night was for her. One way or another, I would win her over.
We arrived at the modern yet upscale restaurant, and then we were seated immediately. I could tell she had something on her mind and waited until after we placed our order to ask.
“What’s wrong?”
“If I said nothing, would you believe me?”
“There’s a slim to none chance.”
“I’m not sure I want to do this with you. We’ve attempted to be friends in the past and it only ended badly, particularly for me.”
“And that was our first mistake. We aren’t meant to be friends, Lake.”
“I don’t know if I can trust you enough to be more than enemies.”
“What do I have to do?”
“Talk.”
“Talk?” I repeated and then it dawned on me what she meant. Lake—”
“It’s what I want. Take it or l
eave it.”
I didn’t think this was a conversation to have over dinner, but I knew she wouldn’t back down. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know what happened to you. Everything. You can start from the beginning if that helps.”
“I don’t know the beginning. Not the one that counts. I only know what John told me, which wasn’t much.”
“What was your first memory?”
“Starving. Learning what it meant and what it felt like.”
“What was it like?”
“Painful. Never ending… Adaptable.”
“Adaptable?” How could starving be adaptable?
“After a while, the hunger pains become little more than a nuisance. You learn how to push it to the back of your mind, or so I thought. I did any and everything they asked just for a little more table scraps.”
“That is a horrible memory.”
“It’s just one of many and not all that bad compared to the rest.”
“Tell me more,” she urged.
“Why?” My voice sounded strained to my own ears.
“I want to know what could make an eight-year-old boy push a complete stranger off the monkey bars.”
My fingers stabbed through my hair before pulling tightly. “Like what?”
“I want to know about Quentin. How did he end up here?”
“I thought he was dead. One day he just disappeared, and because I wasn’t allowed to ask questions, I assumed the worse.”
“So where was he?”
“Mario somehow smuggled him out before my father had me taken from the compound. I didn’t know why at first.”
“But now you do?”
“Yes, but it’s not my story to tell.” The hard look I gave her let her know not to push.
“So when you were returned to your family, he came with you?”
“Mario was pretty insistent on it. It made me wonder but he never talked about it, and I never asked. It’s been years since I ever spoke about any of it with Q. I think he wanted to forget, and I was happy to oblige him.”
“But not you… why didn’t you want to forget?”
“Growing up as a slave isn’t something that’s easily forgettable. It was my life. The only one I knew and had. Would you be so quick to give it up?”
“You were afraid you wouldn’t belong. You didn’t want to get attached to a new life just to have it ripped away from you.”
“You’re starting to sound like a psychologist.”
“You can’t hide from me by being a dick Keiran. Not anymore.” We stared at each other for the longest time, silently communicating what neither of us was willing to say out loud.
“This window of opportunity is closing fast.” I was on edge. I didn't like exposure and Lake was skillful at splaying me open.
“I want to know more about Lily.” She crossed her arms and sat back with a hard stare.
“I told you about Lily.”
“Was she your first kill?”
“No. I was damaged long before she came along. She gave me my name.”
“Your name?”
I only nodded while I silently choked on her memory. “My mother named me Gabriel. Keiran was her brother’s name. I was sold when I was an infant, so naturally, I didn't know my birth name. Not until I met my mother.”
“That’s heavy,” she breathed out. “So who was your first kill?”
“Imagine a nameless, faceless person bound and laid out in front of you. Then someone places a knife, or whatever the implement of torture is for the day, in your hand and tells you every place to strike and when to kill. Now imagine you’re only eight years old.”
I blinked against the memories and shook my head. I fell into a trance as I relived my past.
“At eight years old, instead of learning to read I was learning to be a sadistic psychopath. It was practice, mental preparation for the future. I didn’t know until I was older why they chose kids so young.”
“Why?”
“They are easily corrupted. You can mold them however you want. They believe whatever you want them too. When I became of age, I would have been stronger and mentally capable of carrying out the jobs they needed.” I rubbed his chin and said as an afterthought, “It’s clever really.”
She didn’t hesitate to correct him. “It’s sick, Keiran.”
“That too.”
“So, what then?”
“I was corrupted. I was so far gone that nothing about it bothered me anymore. That lasted until Lily showed up. I’d hear many things from the other kids about their life with their parents, but I never bothered to get close to any of them. I either shut them out or shut them up, but Lily…
She fought everyone including me. She never let me ignore her and then she made me want to protect her, so I did. She was changing me. I was beginning to hesitate when I would train and punish the other kids for table scraps, didn’t seem like it was worth it anymore. It didn’t make sense until Mario drove away, leaving me with my uncle.
“What made sense?”
“That if it weren’t for Mario and my father’s greed, I never would have made it. Even after she died.”
“What do you mean?”
“I would have died, Lake. Lily was dead and no longer an influence, but she was already in my head. She was light and my conscious. I wouldn’t have been able to train and eventually they would have killed me.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Lake
We finished our dinner in stunned silence. He gave me a lot to process, but his past, as dark as it was, didn’t make me want him any less.
“What are you going to do about Mario and Arthur? Why haven’t you turned them in yet?”
“When Arthur made the deal with me, I convinced him that it would be safer to deliver him when school was over. If I brought him in sooner, it would raise his suspicions.”
“So you have to pretend nothing is wrong?”
He nodded but didn’t elaborate. “Do you want dessert?”
“I’m okay. Besides, it’s your birthday,” I smiled. He looked up in surprise. “We should get you cake.”
“I’d rather have you for dessert.”
His voice deepened, his eyes darkened, and I just knew if he could, he would take me right here.
Keiran paid for dinner, and we rode in silence back to Six Forks. It wasn’t until he pulled up to my house and walked me to the door that he spoke.
“Thank you for being my first Valentine.” He stole a kiss packed with emotion and desperation. I decided that sweet Keiran was so much more of a panty melter than brooding Keiran.
When he finally released me, I was about to say goodnight when the front door opened and Aunt Carissa stood in the doorway with Jackson.
I could tell by my aunt’s expression that she wasn’t happy, and considering what Keiran told me this morning, I knew exactly why. It only just occurred to me how much he truly risked by simply taking me to dinner tonight.
“Lake, we need to talk. Keiran, you need to go home.”
Without a word, he turned to go, but not before daring another kiss from me. My aunt watched silently, and when he drove away, I walked inside with her and Jackson.
“Lake, I thought I made my feelings about him clear.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you approached him?”
“He is not the guy you think he is.”
Telling her that I knew exactly who Keiran was would only serve to make this night worse.
“Your parents were two of the gentlest people. It’s why I never understood why they picked the profession they did.”
“What do you mean?”
At age seven, I’d never thought they could ever be anything other than my mom and dad. To me, it was enough. After they had disappeared, I didn’t allow myself to think of them at all, much less how they earned a living.
“Angie and Thomas specialized in child abuse victims.” My throat tightened hearing their names while she paused as if wei
ghing her words.
“Were they social workers?”
“No, honey. They weren’t social workers. They worked for the FBI. It was how they met.”
Stunned.
Shocked.
Silent.
All three words were able to describe how I appeared on the outside, but none came close to doing the justice of the emotions wreaking havoc inside me.
The FBI? My parents?
“How could my parents have worked for the FBI?” The little I could remember of them was so ordinary. Day by day, our life amounted to the same routine set and rehearsed by my parents.
“Your mother always had dreams of someday making a difference, and so the day she announced she had been accepted into the Academy, I knew she had found her calling.”
“What does this have to do with their disappearance?” Aunt Carissa got up to pour another cup of coffee, filling the gray and orange tomcat mug to capacity with the hot espresso liquid.
“The summer they left you here wasn’t because of a vacation. It was a setup. They were going undercover to bring down a child slavery ring that managed to elude the federal government for quite some time.”
I could already feel my heart pounding faster. This couldn't be the same. Fate wouldn't be that cruel.
“How do you know this? Aren’t federal investigations super secret?”
A sad smile spread her lips. “Your mother was never good at keeping secrets. Besides… she wanted to prepare for the future.”
“What happened to them?” It came out as more of a demand than a question. My mind was already connecting the dots, but I needed to hear it. Never in a million years would I have thought Keiran and my past were connected.
“Oh, Lake. Are you certain you’re ready to hear this? It doesn’t have to be now.”
I spoke around the painful lump lodged in my throat. “Yes, it does.”
Finding out my parents were FBI agents was the final blow to the very fragile memories I held of them. The meager leftovers crumbled and shattered when I realized it was all a lie.
She looked at Jackson and a silent message passed between the two. If I didn’t know before, I knew now something was going on between the two of them. Something more than an investigation.