Page 23 of Knuckles & Knives
The contact sends electricity shooting through me, and I hate myself for the way I lean into it. “Your family destroyed mine.”
“My father barely knew yours existed. We ran in different circles, handled different territories. The only connection between our families was…” He pauses, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “Was you.”
“Me?”
“I recognized you the moment you walked into that fight club.” His other hand comes up to frame my face, forcing me to meet his eyes. “I’ve been looking for you for five years, Raven. Ever since you disappeared.”
“Why?”
“Because you were supposed to be mine.”
The words are possessive, territorial, and completely insane. They should make me angry, should make me pull away and remind him that I’m not property to be claimed. Instead, they send heat spiraling through my chest in a way that’s both thrilling and terrifying.
“I was eighteen?—”
“You were perfect. Smart, fierce, beautiful, and completely unimpressed by anything I had to offer.” His smile is self-deprecating. “Do you have any idea how rare that is in my world?”
“Kieran—”
“I was going to ask you to marry me.”
I gasp. “What?”
“After graduation. I had it all planned out—the ring, the proposal, the way I was going to convince your father that a partnership between our families was worth considering.” His laugh is bitter, self-mocking. “I was twenty-two and stupid enough to believe in fairy tales.”
“My father never would have agreed to that.”
“Maybe not, but I would have kept trying until he did or until you told me to stop.” His hands slide down to my shoulders, steadying me more than I wish he needed to. “Then you disappeared, and I thought… I thought maybe your father had found out about my intentions and sent you away to protect you from me.”
The vulnerability in his voice is unexpected, raw in a way that cuts through my defenses. This isn’t the polished businessman or ruthless heir. This is just Kieran, stripped of his armor and admitting to dreams he never got the chance to pursue.
“You’re lying,” I whisper, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.
“I’ve never lied to you. Not once.” He leans closer, his forehead almost touching mine. “I won’t start now.”
“Then tell me who killed my father.”
“I don’t know, but I swear to you on everything I hold sacred that it wasn’t my family. We had no reason to want Vincent dead and every reason to want him alive.” His voice drops to barely above a whisper. “Help me find out who really did this. Work with me instead of against me.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Because,” he says simply, “I’m the only one who’s being honest with you.”
The garage falls silent except for the distant hum of ventilation and the thundering of my pulse in my ears. Kieran is close enough that I can see the silver flecks in his blue eyes. He’s far too close. Closer than Dom had been. If I wanted to, I could lean forward slightly and kiss him. It would be a way to play him, to try to get close and see if he’s telling me the truth or not.
But I can’t bring myself to.
“This is insane,” I breathe.
“Probably.” His smile is crooked, almost boyish. “But insanity seems to be going around lately.”
Before I can think better of it, before rational thought can interfere, I do take that risk and close the distance between us.
Kissing Kieran is like stepping off a cliff. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and completely irreversible. Where Dom was consuming fire and Axel was electric chaos, Kieran is controlled intensity, like lightning captured in a bottle. His mouth moves against mine with practiced skill, but there’s something desperate underneath the technique, something that tastes like years of wanting and waiting.
His hands slide into my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and I respond. This is madness, complete and utter madness, but I can’t seem to stop myself from drowning in the taste and feel of him.
When he backs me against the concrete pillar, I should protest. When his body presses against mine, I should push him away. When he pushes his tongue into my mouth and I moan softly, I should remember all the reasons this is a terrible idea.
