I only just told him about the necklace, and why would he have Tyler draw it, if he knew what it looked like?
Kayden knew about the necklace but didn’t tell me.
I tell myself there’s a good reason, but I can’t think of what that can be.
I stand up, barely able to breathe. I need air. I need space. I run out of the room and down the stairs, and don’t stop until my purse is over my shoulder. I leave my coat behind, needing the realness of the cold. I need to decide whether I talk to Kayden about this or dig for answers on my own. I’m also reminded that he felt familiar from day one. Why? Why? And damn it, I do not want to doubt the one person I have trusted, the man I feel so connected to.
But I can’t be a fool, either. The idea drives me forward, and my mind and emotions are so jumbled that I blink—I am at the front door of the castle and don’t even remember the walk. I reach for the knob and it bursts open. I back up and
watch in disbelief as the men from the bar last night carry a bleeding man inside.
Kayden follows, speaking into his phone. “Why the fuck aren’t you here already, Nathan? Hurry the hell up.” He ends the call and the men charge toward the center tower steps, blood dripping everywhere, and a series of images flashes through my mind. My father was a medic in the army, and he taught me about that, too.
“Stop!” I shout, racing after them. “Put him down before you make him lose too much blood, or put him into shock!”
The men pause and look at Kayden, who I feel at my back.
I whirl around. “Put him down if you want him to live.”
Kayden doesn’t hesitate. “Do it!” he orders.
They lower the man, who I assume is Enzo, to the floor and I drop to my knees next to him, applying pressure to the wound in his chest, but he’s bleeding from his arm, too. He’s not moving and pale.
Kayden kneels across from me and applies pressure to his arm, checking his pulse as he does. “It’s weak.”
“He’s losing too much blood,” I say, eyeing one of the men. “I need you to hold where I’m holding.”
The man swiftly joins me on the ground, replacing my hands with his, but before I fully release my hold, I warn, “Don’t let go or he’ll die.”
Then I climb over Enzo to get to Kayden, unhook his belt, and pull it from the loops. “I need your shirt to wrap the wound. I’ll keep pressure on his arm while you take it off.”
My hand replaces his and he yanks his shirt over his head. “You wrap his arm,” he says, “and I’ll belt it.”
“Good. Belt it really tight.”
He gives me a nod, and in a blur of movement, we have the tourniquet on. Enzo moans, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s a good sign.
“I’m here!” Nathan shouts, entering with Matteo, both men carrying bags, and just the sight of him is relief. Then he’s taking my spot. “I need to start an IV; he needs blood. Get me blood now!”
I don’t even want to know where they’re going to get that. No longer needed, I turn and start walking, so cold I’m brittle, and I barely remember reaching the main level of our tower, or when I turn toward the spare bedroom. Inside, I continue to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I then step inside fully dressed and sit down, staring at the blood pouring off of me and down the drain. My shaky hand unzips my purse and closes around my gun. It’s my friend. I’m not sure who else is.
The shower door opens and Kayden steps inside, kneeling in front of me, blood washing off his pants and body as they are mine. So much blood.
“Ella.” His hands settle on my shoulders and I want them there, and I don’t want them there. I don’t look at him and he cups my face, forcing my gaze to his. “Sweetheart. What are you doing?”
I swallow the knot in my throat, water running over my face and his. “I can handle a lot of things, Kayden. Maybe even a bloody man dying in your foyer. But I can’t handle lies.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I saw the photo of my necklace in your office.”
His hands fall away, his withdrawal proving the betrayal I’d prayed wasn’t true. What else did he know that he hasn’t told me?
The certainty that too much with this man hasn’t been what it seems hurts, cutting like a jagged-edged knife through my heart. I want answers. I want the lies to end.
I pull my gun from my purse and point it at him. “Who are you to me, Kayden? Who am I?”
