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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IT TOOK A COUPLE OF days for Kas to agree to the YouTube gala.
I didn’t push him or convince him either way.
This was his choice.
He couldn’t have any doubts or regrets—regardless of what decision he made.
I knew how hard it would be to share everything he’d endured. He’d hated me talking about his past with the doctor when we first arrived from the valley. He’d not opened up to Josh, his therapist, or anyone else apart from me, even though Joshua popped round regularly, and his therapist was there for that exact purpose.
Josh and I had always been quite close for siblings, but ever since I’d returned home, he’d been a regular overstayer. Often bringing around takeaways to share, just swinging by to chat, and other lame excuses that involved him hanging out for a bit.
He said it was because he’d missed me so much that he was making up for all the lost visits while I was gone. But I knew the truth. He still wasn’t sure about Kas. I’d catch him watching Kas with narrowed eyes, his thoughts turbulent about his sister shacking up with a wild man.
But anyone who had eyes could see that Kas was a gruff, dangerous-looking package wrapped around a gentle, kind-hearted soul. The man who’d thrown me in the basement, locked a chain around my ankle, and tried to strangle me more times than I wanted to remember was now as dead as the corpses left behind in the valley.
Every day that passed, I saw more and more of the boy who’d offered himself up for a sacrifice to protect his Fable brothers and sisters. He had a quiet, watchful side. A large guardian who could become violent in a second if he believed I was threatened but also be so vigilant and protective.
He lived to make me happy. His vegetable garden flourished. My house had never been so clean and tidy. And even though he preferred to stay inside than venture with me into the large world he still found overwhelming, he was happy.
He kept himself busy.
Most of the time, I found him in the kitchen, using ingredients he’d long since run out of and trying new spices that he’d never heard of. He didn’t sit around in self-pity or nurse a blackened soul full of hatred. He was truly awe-inspiring, reminding me to always be grateful because I had it so incredibly lucky. He taught me to always be present and enjoy the little things. Things I’d taken for granted before I met Kas. Things like a comfy couch to snuggle up on, a fireplace to keep us warm, and the touch of a man who still wore scars and ghosts but could somehow touch me with such reverence and passion.
This morning, as I was getting ready to make my weekly trip to the supermarket, Kas had grabbed me in a hug and squeezed me tight. I’d squeezed him back, inhaling the rich earthiness that always seemed to follow him from the constant tweaking of his vegetable garden, along with the scents of masculine comfort.
My body came alive. My nipples hardened. I grew wet.
He only had to touch me, and I wanted him.
A piece of my heart ached as I stood in his arms.
Just because I’d learned not to push him didn’t mean that sleeping apart had become any easier. It hurt to hear him cry out sometimes in his sleep. To hear the back door click closed and know he’d gone to sleep under the stars from a particularly bad nightmare.
I wanted to help him. To hold him when he dreamed of painful things.
But it wasn’t a simple matter of asking him to join me in bed.
I understood his fear of hurting me again. His meds were helping keep his mind from deep, dark places, and the therapy sessions seemed to assure him that he wasn’t alone in the feelings he still had to work through, but he still didn’t trust himself.
Until the day came that he unequivocally knew he wouldn’t wake up killing me, he would continue sleeping at a distance from me.
I didn’t care if it would take him a year to feel comfortable sharing my bed. I had time. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I loved him.
It was that simple.
Pulling away, he’d smiled and kissed me.
The kiss evolved until our hands were in places that would definitely lead to a delayed supermarket visit, but he’d stopped before we went too far, inhaling hard as if it took courage he didn’t truly have.
“I’ll go to the gala,” he murmured, his fingers sending fire over my cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Are you sure? There will be a lot of people there. It will be loud and crowded and—”
“Are you trying to talk me out of it?” He smirked, stress tightening his eyes. “Because it’s been a fucking hard decision to make.”
“No.” I cupped his cheek. “I just want to make sure you know what you’re signing up for. There will be more people there than you’ll be comfortable with. We don’t have to do it now. We can wait—”
“But you said it would help others, right? It will give a voice to those still missing, still hurting?”
I nodded, my heart breaking all over again at his selflessness. His need to protect others like him. “Yes. This platform is the perfect opportunity to reach a massive audience. It’s not news that children are trafficked, but hearing it from someone like you might make more people take notice.”
He bit his bottom lip, sucked in a heavy breath, and wedged his forehead to mine. “In that case, how I feel or what I’ll go through in such a big crowd is irrelevant. At the end of the night, I get to come back here with you. I get to lock a door and be in a safe space where no one can touch me against my will. No one can starve me or beat me.” His voice thickened with rage and grief. “So...this gala isn’t about me at all. It’s about them. It’s about those kids who don’t get to lock a door, or don’t get to have a hot meal, who don’t get to sleep safely without bastards breaking them apart.”
Tears stung my eyes. “You’re incredible, you know that.”
He cleared his throat and kissed me. “No. I’m not.” His lips moved over mine before he murmured into my mouth. “I’m only able to share a piece of myself because I have you. And because I have you, I will do whatever it takes to help others like me. Because you taught me how.”
I leaped into his arms.
And my supermarket trip had been delayed because I couldn’t stop myself.
He was so damn brave. So selfless to share his pain in order to help others. We’d ended up naked on the couch, me spread over his legs, riding his lap while his hands latched around my hips.
The way he’d filled me so deep.
The heat of his skin and the shudder of his body as he came—
“Watch where you’re going, will you?” a snooty woman snipped as I accidentally bumped her cart with mine. My daydream of what’d happened this morning rudely vanished, dropping me back into the brightly lit, grocery-laden shelves of my local store.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, darting away and heading toward the checkouts.
While waiting my turn, I logged into my emails and brought up the details about the gala. With trepidation in my heart and hope in my fingers, I typed that Kas had agreed and that we would be attending this weekend.
Pocketing my phone, I placed the food items on the conveyor belt, cursing the small bubble of fear in my belly. Kas was doing this for others like him. I knew he still felt guilty that the family he’d done his best to save had ended up right back in hell. He wasn’t the type of guy to let Jareth hunt everyone down without offering support.
But...is he mentally stable enough to do this?
To be in a large group of people?
To speak in front of cameras and be confident enough to endure the inevitable ridicule?
I honestly didn’t know.
And that fear kept me company all the way home.
* * * * *
“Kas?” I carried groceries through the front door, glancing around the empty living room and kitchen. “Are you here?” Dumping the bags by the sink, I made another trip out to the secondhand car I’d purchased a couple of weeks ago.
I missed my Jeep.
Eventually, I’d have to arrange to get it towed out of the national park. And if that wasn’t possible—because let’s face it, I’d left it in a rather tricky spot—I would get another key cut and make a trip up there with a new battery to collect it myself.
Kas could come with me.
How would he feel about returning?
Would he regress after seeing the shell of what was left of Fables? We’d seen pictures of the fire-ravaged mansion thanks to a local news crew that’d flown over the ruins and done a piece on the firefighting team that’d successfully prevented a massive forest fire. Their reporters had researched and linked Fables to the recent news reports on Kas’s reappearance and the current investigation as police tried to track any family and the Fable syndicate who stole young kids.
Kas’s tale wasn’t often on the news after the first few days of interest, but it still circulated online among my fans. They still hounded me for Kas to do a survival video or even a simple Q&A so they could hear his story.
People were interested.
The buzz was still huge.
The gala would only add to it.
Stepping back inside, I kicked the front door closed with my foot and carried the last armful of food to the kitchen. “Kas?” I peered outside, checking to see if he was tending to his garden.
Nothing.
Huh, that’s odd.
He wasn’t exactly at the stage of going off on his own. He didn’t even carry his own key to come and go even though I’d cut one for him. He’d left it on the side table, stating he wasn’t ready to join the chaos just yet.
I’d wanted to ask him why he wasn’t ready. Was it the masses of people? The loud sounds, big stores, and overwhelming insanity of everyday life that society had become immune to? Or was his mind not as stable as he made me believe?
His whiteout moments were getting less and less. He’d stopped taking as many pain meds for his headaches. And the times when I did catch him staring into space, only to shake his head and blink at me blankly, were rare.
His memory stayed intact.
His overall demeanor remained levelheaded and calm.
But maybe there was something he wasn’t telling me.
Where the hell is he?
“Kas? Everything okay?”
I strolled down the hallway, peering into my office and climbing room. Nothing. Picking up speed and heading to my bedroom at the end of the hall, I glanced into the main bathroom and slammed to a stop.
“Oh, my God.” My hands flew to my mouth. Shock almost made my knees give out as I drank Kas in. “What...what are you doing?”
He didn’t look at me, glowering at himself in the mirror and hacking away at his long, ruffian hair. His hands operated the kitchen scissors as if they were a hack blade, chopping off sections of uneven strands and scattering them all over the bathroom floor.