It was a mistake.
It had to be.
She'd heard wrong. Or it was a lie.
A dream. A nightmare. Something.
Because if it was true —
If it was true, and this was reality, there was no going back to the person she'd been. Before.
The plan had worked. Everything had unfolded as she'd imagined it. She'd gotten exactly what she'd wanted. But . . .
She'd made a mistake. A fatal error. Because it hadn't gone exactly as planned, had it?
There was supposed to be humiliation — and there was.
There was supposed to be suffering — and there was.
Everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Except —
No one was supposed to die.
It had to be.
She'd heard wrong. Or it was a lie.
A dream. A nightmare. Something.
Because if it was true —
If it was true, and this was reality, there was no going back to the person she'd been. Before.
The plan had worked. Everything had unfolded as she'd imagined it. She'd gotten exactly what she'd wanted. But . . .
She'd made a mistake. A fatal error. Because it hadn't gone exactly as planned, had it?
There was supposed to be humiliation — and there was.
There was supposed to be suffering — and there was.
Everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Except —
No one was supposed to die.
"You know you want me," Kaia whispered, her breath hot and moist against his ear.
Adam said nothing, but didn't — couldn't — push her away. Her perfume washed over him, missing with the smoky air, and he was suffocating, he was dizzy, he was lost in the pounding of the music, the vibrations running through the floor, through their bodies, the thunderous bass. He was lost in the sight of her swollen lips, her wide eyes, her body pressing against his in the darkness.
He thought of Beth, of the look on her face when she'd walked away from him, of the sound of her voice through her tears, telling him she didn't trust him, could never trust him. He thought of what Beth would think, what she would do if she saw him here with Kaia. Thought of proving her wrong, thought of proving her right —
And then, as Kaia's hands tightened around his waist, as his chest pressed against hers, as her tongue slipped past his lips — he wasn't thinking about Beth anymore.
Adam said nothing, but didn't — couldn't — push her away. Her perfume washed over him, missing with the smoky air, and he was suffocating, he was dizzy, he was lost in the pounding of the music, the vibrations running through the floor, through their bodies, the thunderous bass. He was lost in the sight of her swollen lips, her wide eyes, her body pressing against his in the darkness.
He thought of Beth, of the look on her face when she'd walked away from him, of the sound of her voice through her tears, telling him she didn't trust him, could never trust him. He thought of what Beth would think, what she would do if she saw him here with Kaia. Thought of proving her wrong, thought of proving her right —
And then, as Kaia's hands tightened around his waist, as his chest pressed against hers, as her tongue slipped past his lips — he wasn't thinking about Beth anymore.
She'll be fine, Kane told himself. He'd find a way to fix things, without destroying himself in the process. He couldn't do that, even for her. He couldn't do it for anyone.
It doesn't make me evil, he told himself. It just makes me human.
Self-preservation was a fundamental human right. More than that — it was an obligation.
He wished he could be that guy, the one who could dial the number, confess to his crimes, save the day. For the first time in his life, he wished he was someone else, someone nobler, someone braver. Someone better. But he wasn't.
It doesn't make me evil, he told himself. It just makes me human.
Self-preservation was a fundamental human right. More than that — it was an obligation.
He wished he could be that guy, the one who could dial the number, confess to his crimes, save the day. For the first time in his life, he wished he was someone else, someone nobler, someone braver. Someone better. But he wasn't.
