Page 26 of Wreaking Havoc
Sascha frowned at him. “What’syourdeal?”
“You were stabbed?” Kai asked, his eyes roaming over Sascha like the wound would reveal itself if he looked hard enough.
“Oh. Yeah. My arm.” Sascha held a hand to his right bicep.
Kai’s hand covered his, turning Sascha gently to face him fully. “And you kept this from me?”
Was he supposed to give Kai a running tally of all his old boo-boos? “I guess I forgot to mention it?” he said.
“You forgot,” Kai repeated, his nostrils flaring.
God, this was like his conversation with Ivan all over again. Pissy alpha males acting all weird and cagey. Sascha huffed. “I didn’t mention it because I don’t like to think about it, okay?”
“Show me,” Kai ordered, his voice rough.
“Ugh.” Sascha wrinkled his nose. “Why though?”
“Show. Me.”
“You’re bossy when you’re cranky, you know that?” When Kai only stared back at him, Sascha pushed his lower lip out into a pout. “It’s too cold with the wind. Maybe when we get home.”
“We’ll shelter in the rocks.” Kai released his shoulders and grabbed his hand instead, tugging gently. “Come.”
Sascha let himself be led to a spot on the beach that was adequately sheltered by the rocks. Kai set their empty coffees to the side and removed the coat from Sascha’s shoulders, setting it on the sand before tugging Sascha down on top of it.
Sascha rolled his eyes but settled cross-legged where he was placed, Kai kneeling at his side. He shrugged out of his own jacket, pushing the sleeve of his shirt up to show the scar. “See?” he asked, as pissy as could be.
Warm fingers caressed the pink scar tissue. “It still pains you,” Kai said softly. “I had thought you merely uncoordinated.”
That wasn’t exactly incorrect—Sascha’s disastrous two-week stint on his boarding school’s baseball team was evidence enough—so Sascha let it slide. “The asshole grazed a nerve,” heexplained. “They were able to mostly repair it, but sometimes my fingers get a bit tingly. I’m just…aware of it, I guess.”
Kai tugged at his sleeve. “Take this off.”
“Why?” Sascha asked, eyes widening when Kai shrugged out of his own shirt, revealing miles of bare skin. “What are youdoing?”
“I can heal it.” Kai frowned again at the scar, like it had personally offended him. “Heal it completely.”
When Sascha made no move to undress, he cocked a brow. “Don’t you trust me, zaychik?”
God, wasn’t that the fucking question? They’d made a bargain, sure, but trust was a tricky thing and not one Sascha had much practice with. He loved his brothers—both of them, however flawed—but one had abandoned him without a thought, and the other had the temper of a rabid hyena. His own mother had left him as a baby.
Where was the trust in that?
But there was something about Kai. Something beyond him being a hottie of epic proportions. There was a gentleness to the way he treated Sascha, bossy arrogance aside. Like the way he’d stopped Sascha’s imminent panic attack in its tracks. Or the stupid coat Sascha was now sitting on, protecting him from the cold sand.
Sascha had wanted to turn to him for comfort yesterday. It had taken everything in him to stop himself from curling up into Kai’s chest like a goddamn kitten. That something about him seemed to screamsafety.
Was that just a side effect of him holding a piece of Sascha’s soul hostage?
Did it even matter?
Sascha reached for his hem and tugged off his shirt.
8
Kai
Kai barely dared to breathe as Sascha settled back down in front of him, this time with a torso that was deliciously bare.
