Imprisonment is out. Killing him is out. Public embarrassment?
I’m losing it.
I focus back in on Kade. “How goes the destruction of Sterling Falls?”
He grimaces, which I have to assume means it’s not going well.
Or it’s going too well?
He reaches into the tub. Water sloshes everywhere and soaks his sleeves in the process, but he doesn’t even flinch. He grabs at my knees, wraps one arm behind my back, and hauls me up.
It’s actually impressive. I’m solid. A lot of muscle, a bit of fat. Some depression… You know, the usual.
“How come you haven’t seen Antonio?” he asks.
I blink up at him. I hadn’t realized my eyes were shut, and it takes effort to force them wider. He perches me on the counter and strips me. If his movements were anything less than methodical, I’d fight.
I promise. Really. I’d fight to have a big, strong asshole try to get me naked.
But he’s not doing it to be sexual, he’s beingnice. Arguably the worse of the two.
Once I’m out of the wet clothes—he tosses them back in the tub, where they make satisfying splashes—he bundles me in a towel. One around my body, another slung over his shoulder. He opens drawers until he finds a wide-toothed comb and carefully runs it through my hair.
My painful, aching hair.
But the teeth against my scalp doesn’t feel too terrible, and my eyes flutter again.
“Where’d you learn to do this?” I ask when he blots my hair with the extra towel. “This care-for-a-girl stuff.”
He meets my gaze. “A sister.”
“Right.” I hum. “The medical bills sister.”
The wall behind his eyes? The one I hadn’t realized was missing? Yeah, that slams back into place.
I catch his wrist. “I didn’t mean to say it like that. You said she was sick?”
“She had a long hospital stay,” he says on a sigh. “Yeah. It doesn’t matter.”
“Well, it mattered if you were brushing her hair. That’s an act of service. Love and stuff.” I raise my eyebrows. “It’s okay to admit you love and care for your sister.”
Or… lovedand caredfor his sister.
I don’t actually know if she’s alive—and I don’t want to know. To learn that someone close to him died some terrible way would be too tragic for me to handle.
Doesn’t that sound bad?
It would be too tragic forme?
Someone needs to slap me before it’s too late.
“Where are your parents?”
“Throw me back in the water, why don’t you,” I mumble.
He wraps that second towel around my hair and rubs my arms through the other towel.
“Why are you even here?”
