Page 268 of Chaos Kills

I’m not sure if that’s the right word to use. Vivian isn’t wrong when she said Cairo would keep her away because he’s tried his best through the years. He warned me about what she may do and how speaking to her may make me slightly confused.

I am.

Seeing her is home—well, was home until I was sentenced to prison. Having her visit me was something I looked forward to, and I felt special that she went out of her way to do so.

We’ve never got to talk about what happened. Yet, my brothers have communicated all too well it wasn’t because she wanted to look after me.

“Hey, Oz.” My spoken name gets me to whip around, finding Bay frozen in the doorframe.

I don’t know how long I’ve been in here. I can’t get out of my own head and the possibilities of what’s right and wrong. I’m scared I’m never going to be able to make that judgment on my own.

“You good?” Her voice is tender and quiet, contrasting against those loud sky-blue eyes that only scream her worry and trepidation for being here.

If I want her here.

Her inky black hair isn’t the only thing that’s strikingly different from Vivian. It’s the fact she keeps her space between us. That she never tells me what to do, but what she’s not going to do.

She’s scrappy and smart, and so beautiful.

It’s almost unreal how pretty she is. How does someone like her exist in reality? It makes warning bells ring in my head and makes me cautious of her at all times.

Even though, when I wasn’t someone in her life, she was still the same. Nothing has changed.

Bay takes two steps into the room before slowly descending to the floor and onto her knees. She’s careful to keep herself covered in the tight dress that sparkles under the light, and peers up at me as if she’s expecting something.

An answer.

It doesn’t come easy or at all.

I can’t extract my focus from her because she’s quickly becoming a grounding spot for my heart to beat at a steadier rhythm and my lungs to accept air.

We linger in silence together, as if it’s nothing at all. A mixture of unease fills my chest a bit, but I still welcome her.

And I don’t want her to leave this room.

I’d rather her be here than be alone.

Bay raises her hand, palm extended at me for me to come closer and mimic her actions. I hesitate, not really wanting to move, but it seems to please her, and I like to see her features soften when our skin touches.

It seems as though it’s something she desperately needs as much as I need to protect her.

Ambling forward, I stop within two feet and lower myself to the gray carpet and steadily raise my palm to hers.

Bay continues to look at me with those blues as the smooth touch of her skin makes me flinch.

She’s quick to drop her hand, and mindlessly, I wrap my fingers around hers and release them just as quickly in surprise that I had done that.

That I had purposely touched her without thought or stalling.

Bay raises her palm again as I attempt to get my mind straight. Closing the distance again as my fingers glide flush against hers.

A shudder shoots up my upper body as I demand myself to keep my hand where it is.

Against hers and not to detach away.

“You look as though you saw a ghost,” Bay mutters gently, and I welcome her distraction immensely.

I don’t want to fuck this up.

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