Page 44 of Unmask
I didn’t say anything. Just let him talk, the charge of his words filling in the space between us, like they carried more than memories.
“My dad…he didn’t deserve her,” he continued. “He broke her down piece by piece. She was an accomplishment, having a beautiful woman on his arm as his wife. I was the one who found her.” His voice cracked then, just barely. “Laid out on the floor like she didn’t matter. She did. She mattered more than anything.”
My throat burned. “I know that feeling,” I whispered. “Seeing them go. Wanting to stop it and not being able to do a damn thing.” Was this what Raine had alluded to? We’d both been there when people we loved passed on? I sensed there was more to the story, but I didn’t push. I could see what it cost him to open up this much.
He looked at me then, really looked, as if he saw every broken piece of me and wasn’t scared of the mess. “We never talk about her. It hurts too much. And the more time that passed without speaking her name, the easier it got, but doing so feels like we’re forgetting her, and I don’t want that. It’s a loneliness that never leaves,” he said softly. “It carves a hole inside you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It does.”
We sat like that for a while, two kids shaped by grief, haunted by memories we couldn’t undo, and for once, it didn’t feel unbearable.
It just felt…understood.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
The shrill scream of the security alarm shattered the quiet. My body jolted upright, heart in my throat, every hair on my body rising as fear sank its claws in. The sound was so sudden, soviolent, that it took me a second to process what it even was, but it was the why that caused ribbons of fear.
Someone had triggered the alarm.
Someone was outside.
Someone was trying to break in.
My eyes widened, immediately flying to Kreed, who was already moving. One second, he was beside me, and the next, he was on his feet, every muscle in his body coiled, his expression unreadable except for the flash of something deadly in his eyes.
Danger.
“What the fuck—” he growled, then turned to me. “Are you expecting anyone?”
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as I scooted to the edge of the bed. “No one.” Hell, I wasn’t even expecting him, but it hadn’t stopped Kreed from getting inside.
His gaze darkened. “Stay here.”
“Like hell.” I scrambled out of bed, not even trying to hide the panic in my voice. “You’re not leaving me alone to get hacked to pieces. I’m coming with you.”
His hesitation was brief, but it was there, yet he reached for my hand, interlocking our fingers. “You’ve seen too many horror movies.”
“Maybe, but I’ve also seen real-life horrors,” I whispered, staying close as he turned toward the door.
We crept down the stairs, not bothering with the lights, my fingers in his. The house was pitch-black except for the faint red glow of the alarm panel blinking at the end of the hallway. Every creak in the floorboard felt deafening. I was practically glued to Kreed’s back, breathing shallow, trying to listen for any sound, footsteps, a window sliding open, or a breath that wasn’t mine.
Kreed stood still for a beat, shoulders tense, head tilted slightly like he was listening to something only he could hear. He reached for the butcher block with precision, fingers closingaround the biggest knife my cousin had. The blade caught the pale moonlight bleeding in through the window, glinting silver as he turned it over once in his hand.
Without breaking stride, he moved toward the back door, his steps quiet and stealthy. His hand curled around the knob, but he paused, looking at me, eyes growing dark and stormy as they found mine. “Lock the door behind me,” he ordered.
My stomach clenched as I clung to his hand, refusing to let go. “What? No fucking way. Don’t go out there. It’s dark. You don’t know who’s out there. This is a bad idea.” Was I actually worried about him? The thought of Kreed hurt made me sick.
His jaw flexed, but his tone didn’t waver. “I need to make sure whoever set off the alarm is gone. If I don’t check, neither of us is sleeping, and as much as I like the idea of keeping you up all night, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”
I wanted to argue. I wanted to scream, but I could see in his eyes that he was going, no matter what I said. I hated how calm he was. Like walking into danger was just another Tuesday for him. Maybe it was. “I swear to God, Kreed Corvo,” I muttered, chest throbbing with dread as I unraveled my fingers from his, “if you get yourself murdered, I’ll never forgive you.”
He turned to face me fully, one corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “It’s good to know that no matter how much you hate me, you still care.”
“It’s me I’m concerned about. If you die, what chance do I have?”
“If I’m not back in five minutes,” he said, holding my gaze, “call Raine.” He didn’t wait for my response. He just turned, yanked the door open, and disappeared into the night.
My fingers fumbled with the deadbolt, locking it with a hard click that felt final. I pressed my forehead to the cool glass pane, eyes straining into the darkness beyond the porch light. My breath fogged the glass, shallow and fast. Somewhere outthere, he was alone with only a knife and whatever anger he was running on.
