Page 141 of Under the Bed

“We won’t.” I plant a kiss on the top of her head. Inhale her scent and pull her closer to my chest. “We could never.”

“It’ll be the best thing ever, you know.” She draws circles on the back of my neck, her fingertips soft on my skin. It’s nice. Calming. I store the information in my head as another thing that makes Shiloh happy. “If our kids turn out like you.”

My brow furrows as I pull back to stare at her. “I didn’t hear you.”

Despite the silence surrounding us. Despite us being so close.

I couldn’t have heard what I think I did.

“They’d be better off having your genes. Being a carbon copy of you. Don’t give me that look. Of course I want them to be like you, Kaleb.” Her palm is as soft as silk against my cheek. For over a decade, I’ve slept on rough sheets and pillowcases. Nothing like this. Nothing was ever as smooth as her skin. As her words. “Strong. Resilient. Confident. Beautiful. You.”

“What about you?”

She shakes her head.

My fingers snap around her wrist. I’m hurting her again. Don’t give a fuck. “What makes you think you aren’t all those things? Because your dad was a prick who fucked with your head? Because two molesting fuckers assaulted you?”

Shiloh is brave, lifting her chin to meet me eye to eye. “Yes. And I let them. You wouldn’t have.”

“Fuck that.” She’s light in my arms as I stand up. “Fuck. That. It wasn’t your fault. You’re human. More human than I could ever be. It’s beautiful to watch. So beautiful to experience life through you, Shiloh.”

“I let them mess with me,” she says on our way to her apartment.

“Shut up, Shiloh.”

My dirty sleeve clings to her clothes. Her cheeks are tear-stained. She has to shower before going down to the police station and from there to her school.

The few people who cross our path avert their gazes. She looks sick. They don’t want to look judgmental, I assume.

Win-win.

“It’s the truth, though. I could’ve fought back.”

“They tortured you. Manipulated you. A kid.” We’re getting closer to her apartment. Once we’re there, I’ll shower her, dress her, and send her off so I can repay my debt to Jerome and be done with it. “A defenseless kid.”

“Or.” She ignores me, her voice growing distant. “If I were like you, which is what I wish for our kids, I wouldn’t have cared. Except I did. I did, and I ruined everything.”

“You did care. You never gave up on me. You never gave up on yourself. You kept going because you cared about living and cared about us.” I’m this close to raising my voice. This close to making a scene. Instead, I stop to look at her. “Hey.”

“What?” She pouts, her bottom lip jutting out.

“Shiloh.” I hold her close and release one hand to rub her lip and tug on it. “You’re the only emotion I ever want to feel.”

Her face crumples.

She’s about to cry.

Bad timing. Bad fucking timing.

I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye and snap my head up.

Short, chubby man. Gray hair. The way he fumbles with his car keys.

“Dr. Reynolds,” I whisper close to her ear.

“Oh, shit. Put me down. Put me down!” She shoves at me, scrambling to get off.

I don’t argue. Behind a building that hides us from him is where I lower her to the floor. She swipes at her dried tears. Straightens up. Steely resolve takes over her expression.

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