Touch (Denazen #1)(32)

It hadn’t been the memory of the cold, dead look in Mona’s eyes, or the expression on Dax’s face when he overheard Kale talking about Monica. It wasn’t even the thought of being in the same room with Alex after so long, hearing his voice or the memory of finding him with that girl.

It was Kale. The slightly haunted look in his eyes. The way his hair flopped over into his face. The way he’d tried to attack Alex and Dax—for me. Strange and damaged—possibly beyond repair—but there was still something about him that made me feel alive. More alive than any rave or cheap thrill I’d ever chased before.

I hurt for the things my dad had done to him.

I missed him.

The tears came with ease.





12


I must’ve taken after my mom, because Dad could sleep through a Powerman 5000 concert. On stage. Under Spider One’s boot. It was a fact I’d exploited countless times to get in and out of the house in the middle of the night. But a pin could drop down the road, and I was wide awake.

Keeping my eyes closed, I shifted under the covers. The wind whistled through my open window but that hadn’t been what I’d heard. Someone else was in my room. My first thought was Dad, but I tossed that idea out right away. I’d locked the door, and since it locked from the inside he couldn’t get in from the hall.

Someone was breathing softly in the corner—probably near the window. Alex had snuck through countless times while we’d been together. But this wasn’t him. It didn’t feel like him.

And then I knew. There was no doubt in my mind who stood there. Kale.

A jolt of excitement coursed through my body. Alex used to tell me he’d sneak in and watch me sleep. I always knew he was there, though, and feigned sleep, loving the idea of his eyes on me. It gave me a thrill to know he was watching. Occasionally I’d let my bare leg slide from under the blanket, visible all the way to just below my danger zone.

This…this was different. I could feel Kale’s eyes on me, his breathing a bit faster than normal. I imagined his hand skimming my bare leg from hip to knee, remembering what his lips had tasted like back at the hotel. The images had me fighting to keep my own breathing even as my pulse spiked.

Eyes still closed, I turned onto my back, managing to slide the comforter down until it was tangled between my feet. By the window, Kale shifted positions as well, moving closer. He made no sound, but I was aware of him all the same.

Arching my back, I turned on my side, toward the window. I feigned an itch, hooking the edge of my tank top over my finger as I rolled, causing it to ride up. Knowing his eyes were on me, knowing he was slowly moving forward, made me bolder. I stretched my right hand above my head, over the pillow, and brought my left hand up to brush my hair from my face.

Kale took another step. Now he was standing over me.

It took serious willpower to force myself to stay silent and keep my eyes closed. I didn’t know what he’d do if he knew I was awake. I didn’t want him to back away. Didn’t want him to look away.

The chilly night air sent an icy jolt to my exposed skin. To my surprise—and unbelievable happiness—the end of the bed dipped as Kale sat down. A moment later, a touch, cottony light, traced a path from my toes, up my leg, and stopped right below the hem of my shorts.

I couldn’t help it. I inhaled sharply and shimmied onto my back, somehow managing to keep my eyes closed. His fingers stayed there, resting on my exposed skin for a few moments before trailing upward, over the material. Palm down, he ran his hand up my torso and paused at the hem of my white tank top, now just below my heart. For an insanely drawn-out minute, I thought for sure his fingers would slip beneath, warmth enveloping me. I’d open my eyes then and test my limits.

But they didn’t.

His hand lingered for a moment more before he pulled it back. “Dez?”

A little disappointed, I brought my hands up and rubbed my eyes. “Hmm?” When my vision cleared, he was standing again, inches away from me. “Kale?” I sat up, adjusting my top. “Are you all right?”

He backed away a bit and shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about locking the bad people away.”

“Okay…”

He was tired. His eyelids were drooping. “Did they know I’d do bad things? Is that why they kept me there?”

“Huh?” I didn’t understand what he meant at first. When it hit me, I felt like someone had dropped a brick over my head. “Oh God, Kale, no.” I slid back, leaned against the headboard, and motioned for him to sit next to me. He hesitated for a few moments before climbing across the bed.

“After you left, I talked to people, I read a—newspaper? I’m a horrible person. I deserve to be punished. Like I punished all those people. I murdered them. That’s why Denazen kept me locked up—because I deserved it.” He turned away, looking back at the window.

“That’s not true.”

“In the beginning, when they started my training, they’d go days without bringing me food if I didn’t do what they told me. They only gave me a glass of water a day. They’d dump it out and tell me bad children had to lick it off the floor. By the time they brought food again, I could barely stand.” He shook his head, lips twisted in anger. “Dax’s niece will never be normal—I’ll never be normal. They isolate us, break us down. They dig in our heads until they find what makes us tick, then they rip it out. Most crack. They just cease to be. All they are, are Denazen-made weapons. Others are weak. They become what Denazen shapes them to be. In exchange for their humanity, they get some semblance of freedom.”