Page 172 of Bound By Her

“It’s a Japanese tradition where broken pottery is repaired with gold or silver.”

Adria could see him behind her in the mirror.

“There is no attempt to hide the damage,” he continued.

She shivered as his body pressed against her back, but she didn’t shy away from the contact.

“And the object is made stronger in the repair.”

She could feel the heat from his body, smell the sweat on his chest. His hand pulled her hair away from her face, giving her a full view of their reflection.

“Why did you step in between me and Jonathan?” Kaydon’s stubble tickled the side of her face.

“I—” She paused, surprised by the question.

She tried to turn, but he put his hands on her arms, holding her there. She watched him stare at her reflection from over her shoulder.

“When my parents died, I went to stay at the Winters’,” Kaydon said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” she replied.

His fingers traced idly along her arm. “I hated authority and pushed things to the extreme every chance I got.”

A smirk pulled at his lips, lopsided, teasing, but his voice held something deeper.

Adria arched a brow. “You don’t say.”

He exhaled a quiet laugh but didn’t look away. Didn’t let her go.

“A few months after I ascended to Bryson’s Right Hand, I was driving a motorcycle. Showing off.”

Her reflection flickered in the mirror, their bodies so close.

“The turn came up fast, and before I knew it, I was tumbling on the pavement. That stunt earned me a dislocated shoulder and some other minor injuries.”

Adria studied his face.

“Bryson and I didn’t get along then. We were friends as kids, but after his brother died, something changed. He pulled away. I acted out. But when I wrecked that bike, he still covered for me.”

Kaydon pulled her hand to his mouth.

“Told his father I was protecting him from some drunk punks on Tenth Avenue.”

His lips brushed the space between her pointer and middle finger—where Crest’s bullwhip had curled into her skin. The mark was faint, but it was there.

Her pulse jumped.

“Sometimes you don’t know you’re drowning until someone reaches out and pulls you above the water.”

Her breath caught. Not at his words, but at the way he looked at her when he said them.

Like he saw her.

She yanked her hand back. “You don’t know me.”

Her voice came out sharper than intended.

But Kaydon didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away.

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