Page 55 of Broken Empire
Leah looked equally exhausted. “I’m going to find a bedroom to sleep in,” she said, smothering a yawn. “Do you two mind?”
“No, of course not. We’re all tired.” Killian gave her a tight smile. “We’ll talk in the morning and try to figure all this shit out.”
Once Leah had trudged upstairs, Killian crouched in front of my seat and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me so tightly my ribs ached. “I’m so fucking glad you’re okay,” he muttered, lips right on the shell of my ear. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you.”
I took a deep breath. Something was swelling so abundantly in my chest that I was sure I would burst. “I forgot to tell you something earlier,” I whispered against Killian’s shoulder.
He drew back, eyes searching mine. “What?”
“I love you, too,” I said.
Killian’s smile was everything.
Before he could reply, rain started to hammer down outside, hitting the roof and sides of the house extraordinarily hard, like millions of smashing drumbeats. There was a sudden flash beyond the foyer window, followed by a crash of thunder.
A second flash of lightning made me turn my head to the window to stare out at the rain. I was filled with an urge to go outside and stand in it, face tilted upward, to feel it washing me clean after all the sick, depraved dirtiness that had been stamped onto my body and soul over the last week.
It was freezing outside, though. I would have to settle for a regular shower and save the ‘dancing in the rain’ movie clichés for another time, unless I wanted a severe case of hypothermia.
I turned back to Killian. “Let’s go upstairs. I need to shower,” I said, slipping my right hand into his. “I suddenly feel really dirty.”
“Because you said you love me?” he said in a teasing tone, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Am I really that bad?”
I shook my head and giggled, andgod,it felt good to do that.
While I was locked up on the secret floor of the Kingsford and enduring endless torment, I honestly never thought I’d laugh or smile again, even if I somehow managed to escape. I thought I’d seen too much of the world’s darkness, experienced too much pain to ever feel a smidgen of joy or pleasure again.
I was wrong about all of that. Just a few minutes with Killian had brought me back to my old self and restored my ability to feel joy and hope. He was like an anchor for me; something to hold me steady and safe in spite of the storms raging around us.
“I’m glad you’re smiling again,” he said, thoughts seemingly mirroring my own.
“Me too,” I said softly, enjoying the warmth seeping into my hand as he squeezed it in his own.
“Let’s go.” His eyes flicked toward the stairs, and then he gently pulled me to my feet and guided me toward them. My legs were still a little wobbly from the shock of everything I’d gone through today, but I knew I wouldn’t slip or fall. Killian wouldn’t let that happen. I knew that now, with every inch of my soul.
I should never have doubted it.
We stopped at an open room on the second floor and stepped inside. “This looks good,” I said, doing a slow circle to check everything out. There was a king-sized bed, a stacked bookshelf, and a reading nook with two gray loveseats. A door on the left side led to a spacious bathroom decorated with a black and gold color scheme.
“I’ll see if I can find us some spare clothes while you shower,” Killian said, gesturing toward the closet on the opposite side of the room.
I bit my bottom lip as a strange burst of energy shot through me. “Actually… can you come with me?”
“In the shower, you mean?”
I nodded and stepped into the bathroom, not waiting for a response. I already knew the answer wouldn’t be ‘no’.
I turned the shower on and stripped myself of the trashy pink dress the Schöneberg people had put me in for the Dollhouse black tape. Beside me, Killian lifted his shirt over his head. His shoes and pants came next, and then he walked over to the shower and stepped in next to me.
We stood under the streaming water in silence for a moment, enjoying the warmth as we helped each other get clean. I noticed that Killian was slow and tentative with his movements as he rubbed the soapy suds over my body, like he was afraid he might hurt me, so I took one of his hands and brought it closer. “It’s okay,” I murmured. “All these bruises and cuts will heal. The bite on your arm is probably worse.”
“It’s not that,” he said softly, eyes searching mine again. “I just thought… after everything they did to you, maybe you wouldn’t want to be touched. By anyone.”
His thoughtfulness and tenderness had me sighing with appreciation, especially because I knew he wasn’t this tender with anyone else. I was the only one who could bring out that part of him; the only one who could pierce his hard outer shell to reveal the warmth and softness that lay at his core.
He was that person for me, too—the only one in the world who could truly get to me. The only one who could bring down all the walls I’d put up around myself after the awful losses I experienced when I was younger. That was why it hurt so much earlier when I thought he betrayed me. It was like losing half of myself.
I tilted my head upward and pressed my lips to his cheek. “I’m fine with you touching me,” I whispered when I pulled back. “And I want you to do it now. I want you to make me forget everything.”
