Page 126 of Killing Me Softly

Then Aaron was gone.

He came with a strangled moan, spilling down Kenny’s hand and chest, over his stitches, trembling as Kenny massaged him through the aftershocks, through the pleasure, through thewreckage.

Aaron sagged forward, spent, shaking. But he knew to climb off. To not collapse onto Kenny, and he slithered beside him, curling up. Kenny wrapped his arms around him, holding him close, anchoring him as they both lay there, tangled, sweat-slicked,alive.

Aaron nuzzled into Kenny’s neck, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses there, his breath still uneven, his lips skimming against Kenny’s pulse. “You good, lover?”

Kenny smoothed his hands down Aaron’s back, lips to his ear. “Fucking phenomenal.”

Aaron chuckled and kissed him again, deeper, as if he wanted to stay in this moment, like he wanted to keep it.

And Kenny knew, right then and there—

He wouldneverget enough of this man.

chapter twenty-five

At Last

One year.

One whole year had passed since Kenny had come home broken, stitched together in more ways than one. Since Aaron had climbed into bed with him that night, vowing he’d never let go. Since the world had cracked wide open and demanded they face the wreckage. Aaron had thought the worst was behind them. That they had survived the storm.

But in reality, that night had only been the eye.

Kenny’s body healed faster than his mind. The stitches came out within a few weeks, the bruises faded, but the exhaustion lingered. Some nights, he still woke in a cold sweat, gasping for air, hands grasping for something solid. And every time,every time,Aaron was there.Lover, protector, rogue.Pressing against him, whispering, “I’m here, I’m here,” until Kenny breathed again.

Aaron hadn’t left his side. Not through the recovery, not through the media frenzy that erupted around Dr Pryce’s arrest. The case unfolding like a twisted horror story. Thegood doctorexposed as a manipulative, unethical fraud who had covered up, exploited, and, worst of all, enabled violent offenders under theguise of psychiatric rehabilitation. And at the centre of it all?Mable.His sister.

Mable Howell never made it out of that warehouse.

Melhad made sure of it.

And as Mel had sunk her knife into Mable again and again and again—not just to kill her, but to end her,to ensure she never had the chance to twist her way back into Aaron’s life, never hurt anyone again—it had repercussions.

Legally, the justification for self-defence was there. Mel had been protecting Aaron, protecting Kenny, protecting herself. And yet, the brutality of it had sparked an investigation. Multiple stab wounds. Multiple kill shots.There was no doubt that Mel had gone beyond stopping the threat. She had obliterated it.

Not even DI Bentley could prevent Kenny or Aaron from being questioned. Their statements picked apart, their every word scrutinised for cracks. But neither of them wavered. Neither of them gave the prosecution anything they could use.

Because Mel had saved them.

And she wouldnotpay for that.

Not when the real villain—the one who’d let Mable loose on the world—was still pretending to be the hero.

Dr Pryce.

Her trial had been the spectacle Mable’s never was.

Kenny had testified. Jack had.Aaronhad. They’d sat through months of revelations, months of uncovering just how deep her corruption had run. How many dangerous, broken people she’d enabled under the guise of rehabilitation.

And then there was Mable.

Her prized patient. Her success story.

The woman who, thanks to Pryce, had walked free. Reunited with her manipulative mother and killed again. Nearlydestroyingeverything Kenny and Aaron had fought to build.

When the guilty verdict came down, it didn’t feel likejustice.

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