Tyrant (Scars of the Wraiths #2)(60)

Kilter’s brows lowered and his lips pursed together. He was silent a few seconds before he slammed on the brakes. I gasped as the car skidded to a halt and a horn honked behind us.

He punched his fist into the dashboard. “Damn it, babe, I f*cked up. You could’ve been hurt and I wasn’t here.” He cursed under his breath and leaned his head back against the headrest. “I don’t need this.”

I bit my lip as I watched the ravaged look on his face. He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheekbones were accentuated as if he’d lost weight. What happened to him? He was acting like he was concerned about me, yet why had he stayed away for six months? He lived with the Scars, why hadn’t he asked one of them where I was? It didn’t make sense.

“What do you want, Kilter?”

He closed his eyes while his hands rested on the bottom of the steering wheel. When he opened them again, he turned his head to look at me.

My breath stopped.

Unmistakable anguish lay unsettled in his eyes, and it was so heart-wrenching that I reached out to touch his arm but drew back and put my hand back in my lap.

I didn’t know what was between us. Why he rescued me. Why he shared a part of himself he never shared with anyone. Why he had made me feel protected. But I wasn’t ready for the intimacy of what touching him might bring.

“Seeing you tonight….” His eyes landed on me and his arm shot out, cupping the back of my neck. He leaned in and, at the same time, pulled me toward him.

My eyes widened, breath hitched, and my heart pumped wildly. Then his mouth crashed into mine.

I sagged in to him, no resistance. None. I was his puppet as his mouth moved over mine with desperate need.

My breasts throbbed as heat radiated off his chest, off mine, fingers bunched in my hair, his other hand now at my waist, keeping me from moving away. But I wouldn’t.

I’d never felt anything so intense as the desire swirled through every part of my body.

Overpowering.

Electrifying.

And terrifying because I melted into him and there wasn’t a piece of me that didn’t want more of him.

Oh, God, what was he doing to me?

Uncontrollable. Penetrating. And it scared the shit out of me that this man could cause such strong emotions with a single kiss.

He broke away and we stared at one another for a second. My chest heaved and my lips felt bruised and swollen, but it was a good bruised and swollen.

His hands fell from me and he sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that.”

I had no response because my head spun and my body ached and throbbed, wanting more. I touched my lower lip with the tip of my finger.

Jesus.

He put the car into gear and pulled into traffic before glancing at me. “You okay?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“You sure?”

No, but I nodded anyway. I had to get out of here. I had to get my head on straight before I talked to Kilter. “Can you take me home now? I live—”

“I know where you live.”

He did? “You do?”

“Yeah. Found out as soon as I woke from Rest.”

I frowned, looking at him. Delara had mentioned that. “What’s Rest?”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Where I’ve been for six months.”

“Umm, no.”

“Fuck.” He glanced in the rearview mirror then over his shoulder before turning onto Queen Street. “Rest is sleeping while living your worst nightmares. A coma-like state. A Scar’s body shuts down and requires no need for food or water, just a place for your body to lie protected from the elements and enemies. You can’t escape it or wake until one of our Taldeburu releases you from it. The f*cker of it is you relive your past. And not the good parts. Screams. Pain. You know, the worst shit you could ever imagine playing over and over in your head. You’re on the sidelines watching, unable to look away.” He turned to look at me. “Heard your screams. Gemma’s screams. My screams. It was a f*ck of a rough six months.”

Holy shit. Six months? That’s where he’d been? In Rest? And who was Gemma? “I don’t understand. Why? Who would do that to you?” My stomach cramped at the thought of Kilter suffering something so horrible for the last six months while I had thought he’d ignored me. “Kilter? Why were you put in Rest?”

“Doesn’t matter, babe,” Kilter said.

“I want to know.”

“Too bad.”

I tried another approach. “Please.”

He sighed. “I disagreed with Waleron, lost my shit, and he put me in Rest.”

Disagreed with Waleron? A cold wave of dread swept over me. “Oh, my God, that day. It was about me?”

“Yeah. But I was put in Rest because I attacked him and the other Scars. Waleron warned me, I didn’t listen.” He pulled over and I noticed we were in the back alley outside Danni’s gallery. “He woke me this morning.” He reached over and linked my fingers with his resting on my thigh. “Rayne, I don’t know what’s between us, but it’s something, and I’m not going anywhere.”

That didn’t sound like the Kilter I knew. I had to admit I didn’t know him very well, but in the time we’d been together, I’d been at my most vulnerable and he’d been crass, rude, and controlling.