Surrender (Careless Whispers #3)(25)

six




The door to the bedroom opens and I barely have time to turn before Kayden appears in the archway to the security room. And oh God. He’s so big and gorgeous and overwhelmingly male. He’s also radiating a sharp, dark energy that cuts and bites with the certainty I created it. “We were waiting on you,” he announces.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I realized that before this meeting, I needed to know who took those journal pages.”

“Because you still doubt my confidence in Adriel.”

“Because you made me question when the pages went missing,” I correct, “and the last thing I wanted to do was strain Adriel and Giada’s already fragile relationship by throwing suspicion on her.”

His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a shift in his energy that tells me he approves. “And what did you find?”

“Neither of them took it that day—and that was the only time I took it anywhere but here. And the only person who can get in here besides us—”

“It’s not Marabella.”

“Then who is it, and how did they get to my journal?”

“Maybe you tore pages out during one of your flashbacks.”

I think of the moment in the closet when I’d returned to the present, disoriented, and I let out a breath. “It’s possible. I’d really like to think that’s it, but my fear is that it’s not.”

“We’ll sit down tonight and go through the security feed. It’ll take a long time, but we’ll get it done. We’ll find out.”

“We?”

“Yes, Ella,” he says, an emphasis on my name that is one part cold and one part hot. “We. But right now, Giada and Marabella are in the Center Tower. I had Adriel come here to talk to us to ensure our privacy. He’s in the kitchen.”

I stand up, the few steps between us feeling like a world, and he slowly backs up to let me exit but doesn’t turn away. He holds his ground, almost willing me to hold mine, but I can’t. I don’t. I close several of the small spaces between us, stopping an extended arm’s reach from touching him. “I don’t want kids, who can get hurt. I don’t want a dog, because even though I like them, I don’t want to be licked all the time unless it’s by you. But I like cats. Do you? Because I think that we, and this castle, really need a cat.”

Still, there is no discernible reaction from him, his expression hard, his chiseled jaw harder, and it twists me in knots. It hurts, but what hurts more is knowing that his reaction is because I’ve made him feel what I feel right now. Rejected. Hollow. Empty. Unable to take the silence another minute, I start to walk away, but only manage a step before Kayden catches my arm and turns me back to face him. I’m once again staring into those unreadable eyes.

“He’s not happy,” he says, the warning about Adriel not exactly what I was hoping for.

“Does he know about my connection to the necklace?”

“I told him nothing more than what you did in the car, which is part of the reason he’s pissed, but I wanted you to decide what to share.”

Kayden gives respect, and thus he receives it. It’s only one of the many reasons he’s such a good leader. “Thank you, and I’m not going to hold back. You were right. He should know the truth.”

His eyes narrow slightly, a hint of approval in their depths before he gives me a barely perceivable nod, but when I expect him to release me, when I think he intends to in fact, he does not. Instead, he studies me, searching my face, probing, looking for something, I don’t know what, but I hide nothing. I let him see the emotions I feel. The regret, the fear, the love. But too soon it seems, and without any palpable reaction, he releases me. “He’s waiting.”

My arm tingles where his touch was, a sensation I carry with me as I give him a nod of my own. As I turn away from him, moving across the room, I am hyperaware of him behind me, close enough that when I would open the door his arm stretches around me, his hand on the knob. His big body encases mine, the scent of him, all masculine spice and dominance, teasing my nostrils.

He leans in and says, “He’s going to attack.”

“I can handle it.”

“Of that, sweetheart, I am certain.”

There is a hint of something in his words that I don’t like, an implication that he’s certain of this, but not of me or of himself, but I never get the chance to reply, not that this is the right time anyway. He opens the door and sidesteps to allow its movement, exiting into the hallway. Almost instantly the door shuts again behind us. We walk down the hallway, and I can almost feel The Hawk take over, the sense of focus on that part of him rising to the surface. In unison, we cut left under the archway and into the living area, where the fireplace is burning in the far corner, just beyond the leather couch and chairs, its warmth stealing the chill that extends beyond the nearly century-old stone walls to the kitchen to our right.

We cross the room and step under yet another archway to pause in the entryway of the kitchen, where Adriel stands behind the island, his dark, wavy hair a bit in disarray, his leather jacket gone. He’s wearing a shoulder holster and not one but two firearms over his skull T-shirt, its deadly undertone rather appropriate considering how hard and cold his stare is right now.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demands, pressing his hands to the granite surface, that deep scar down his cheek giving his voice an even harder impact. “What the fuck are you, and what the hell were you doing with Garner Neuville?”