HALSTON
The double doors of the suite swung open, my chest heaved, my breath cutting through my throat in ragged, burning gasps.
The metallic scent of the basement was still clinging to my skin, and the front of my shirt was still freshly splattered with blood that hadn’t even begun to dry.
I took three strides into the room and then my boots froze against the tile.
The world went completely, terrifyingly still.
She was looking at me.
Kaira was seated, leaning against the white pillow that rested on the headboard, her dark hair tangled around the bandage on her head.
Her eyes—usually so fierce, so sharp, and so maddeningly stubborn—were wide and completely disoriented.
I rushed to her side, sitting beside her.
I didn’t care about the blood.
I didn’t care about the mess.
“Kaira,” her name tore from my throat, like a broken sound that barely resembled a whisper.
I reached out, wrapping my trembling arms around her fragile frame, pulling her up against my chest with a desperation that shook my entire body.
I buried my face into the crook of her neck, my hands tangling into her dark hair, my fingers stroking the strands over and over again.
I squeezed her tight, but careful—so goddamn careful—terrified that if I pressed too hard, she would vanish back into the darkness.
My chest heaved against her, shudder wracking through my spine.
Her weak, pale hands came up, pressing against my shoulders, and gently pushing me back.
The door pushed open again, and Darion walked in, a white bandage wrapped tightly around his forearm.
“Kaira,” Darion breathed as he rushed past me to the side of her bed.
I moved the the couch opposite the bed, giving them space.
“Uncle,” she whispered, her voice laced with a profound, breaking relief.
They gripped each other’s hands.
Relief washing over both of them.
Darion asked her repeatedly if she was fine, his hands flying to her head as she chuckled.
Kaira’s eyes drifted back to me, her gaze narrowing at me.
Her eyes darted from my blood stained shirt, to the blood on my hands.
Finally the doctor entered, breaking the loaded tension.
He flashed the penlight once more before offering a somber smile.
“Vitals are stabilizing, she’s good.”
Darion exhaled heavily, dropping into the chair beside her bed as though his legs had suddenly forgotten how to work.
Kaira leaned back against the pillows, exhaustion written across every inch of her face.
The doctor checked a few readings on the monitor before nodding to himself.
“She’s tired, but that’s expected.
She just needs rest.”
“I’m fine,” Kaira muttered.
The doctor ignored her.
“No stress.
No arguments.”
After a few final instructions, he gathered his things and left the room.
The pale skin of her jaw clenched, anger flaring behind her eyes as her brows drew together.
“You are doing it again.” Darion said, running a hand across her brows.
“The doctor said no thinking.”
Kaira smiled.
“I don’t think you hear well, he said—”
“Don’t you think you are arguing.” Darion lips lifted to a smile as she laughed.
He his hand dropped again to her palm.
I simply leaned back on the chair watching them.
“Don’t think about it right now,” Darion told her gently, squeezing her fingers.
I watched her for a beat longer, seeing the exhaustion pulling at her eyelids despite her anger.
“I’ll give you two some time,” I muttered and stood up, leaving.
Kaira’s eyes followed me.
I ignored the strange feeling that created in my chest.
As I stepped out into the quiet hallway, fort steps followed me.
The door clicked shut behind Darion.
For several seconds we walked in silence through the hallway.
“Thank you,” Darion said quietly.
It felt like a prideful man forcing out words he hated.
I glanced sideways.
Darion kept his eyes forward.
“For staying with her.”
My jaw tightened.
“Don’t mistake concern for trust.”
A faint snort escaped him.
“Funny.”
My gaze hardened.
“What’s funny?”
“The exact same thing I was about to tell you.”
For the first time since meeting him, we almost looked amused.
“The person responsible for the crash has been dealt with.” I said, breaking the silence.
Darion didn’t ask for details.
A man in his position understood exactly what ‘dealt with’ meant.
“He was a blind link,” I continued, unbuttoning my cuffs as we walked.
“He was hired through anonymous channels.”
“Money?” He looked up and at me.
“Wire transfer.”
“Face-to-face contact?”
“No.” I shoved my hands into my pockets.
“He claimed he’d never met her.”
Darion nodded slowly.
I stopped near the grand staircase, turning my exhausted gaze to him.
“I’m looking into it.
My men will escort you back home so you can rest as well.”
I turned to leave already when Darion’s voice cut through the hallway, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“Are you certain she’s entirely safe within these walls, Halston?”
I paused, my shoulder tensing as I slowly turned back to face him.
My eyes narrowed.
“What are you implying?”
Darion folded his arms, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the grand ceilings of the estate.
“How did she know so as to drop off a location and time.
Did you ask yourself that.”
His voice dropped.
“Well I can’t solidly say your estate might be under surveillance considering how you caught me, which leave me with one thing.”
He stepped closer.
“You have an informant sitting right under your nose, Halston.”
The words landed like a hammer.
For several seconds I said nothing.
If Darion was right, that person was still breathing.
I slowly lifted my eyes, my face hardening back into a stone mask.
“I’ll have men escort you home.”
Darion studied me for a moment.
Then nodded.
************
I walked straight up the grand staircase toward my private study.
Oliver was inside, making phone calls.
I clicked shut behind me, walking over to the office chair to sit.
He turned around, speaking briefly into the phone before hanging up.
“How is she?” he asked, walking over to the couch to sit opposite me.
“Better.” I said, my voice deadened and flat.
His eyes watched me before he spoke again.
“Okay” the words slurred.
“Why that face?”
“Darion mentioned something.” I leaned back, explaining everything to him.
Oliver’s eyes narrowed.
“I think he has a point.
But no one asides from us knew she was returning.”
“The cook,” I muttered, leaning my palms against the edge of my desk.
“I instructed a cook to prepare a meal for her arrival.”
Oliver stiffened.
“Do you think—”
“Find her,” I commanded, my eyes boring into his.
“Bring her to me.”
Oliver nodded and left.
I sat in the silence for a while, the hollow ache in my chest finally beginning to settle before I walked and headed toward the master bedroom.
Pushing the door open, I froze me.
Kaira was standing in the center of the room.
The blinds were drawn, letting the warm evening light cast long shadows across the floor.
She had already bathed.
Her skin looked flushed, though a fresh white bandage was still pinned on her head.
My chest tightened.
She was wearing my shirt.
Again.
The dark crimson button-down hung loosely off her frame, the hem draping halfway down her thighs.
The top three buttons were left undone, exposing the line of her collarbone and the bruising left behind by the seatbelt.
She had a blow dryer in one hand, slowly running her fingers through her damp hair.
She caught my reflection in the mirror and clicked the dryer off, tossing it onto the dresser.
“That room reeks of medicine, it’s making me sick to my stomach.” She said, her voice was at it again, carrying that sharp edge I was used to.
She turned around to face me, her eyes tracking mine.
“I was tired of looking at white walls.”
“Well,” I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me.
“You shouldn’t be on your feet.
The doctor explicitly said—”
“I am also tired of everyone reminding me of the doctor’s advice,” she cut me off, her jaw clenching.
She stepped closer, her bare feet silent against the wood.
“And I am definitely tired of being treated like a fucking fragile egg.”
She snatched the towel she had used off the bed, walking past me into the bathroom to place it back.
The subtle scent of the soap and the masculine musk of my own shirt swirled around her.
When she walked back out, she stopped a few feet away, her arms crossing over her chest.
Her eyes drifted down, slowly traveling over my blood stained shirt then down to the stains on my hands.
I looked down at the blood, then back up into her piercing gaze.
“Aren’t you going to ask?”
A small tilt touched the corner of her lips, though her eyes remained serious.
“I think I know enough.”
She headed to the window, saying over her shoulder.
“You look a mess.”
I scoffed, moving to the closet and grabbing a set of fresh clothes, heading to the bathroom.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, she was sitting on the edge of the mattress, her legs crossed under the oversized silk shirt, watching the tv.
I stepped out of the bathroom, the shirt hanging open, unbuttoned.
I ran a hand through my hair, combing it back as I caught a glance of her.
A smirk tugged at my lips.
“I want to believe you’re not flushed at the moment,” I said, teasingly.
She huffed, crossing her arms defensively.
“For who?
You?
Oh, please.
I’ve seen it—twice, if I can recall.
Checking you out is the last thing I’d ever do.”
I raised an eyebrow, still smirking.
“Okay, if you’d like me to believe that.”
I moved over to the table, snagging a bottle of water.
I uncapped it and took a long drink, still keeping half an eye on her.
She immediately threw her face away again, turning her gaze back to the TV, her jaw clenched tight.
I couldn’t help but smile.
“I’d hate to be a distraction to the show you’re watching,” I muttered, voice quiet enough but in a way she could hear me.
Her glare shot to me, I met it with a smile, then began to button up my shirt.
I moved to the bed, my lack of sleep for days was finally telling on me.
I stretched, placing a pillow perfectly at my back as I leaned against the headboard, while still watching her out of the corner of my eyes, seeing the way she stole glances at me and thought I wouldn’t notice.
I let the silence stretch for a beat, then finally broke it with a quiet chuckle.
“You’re really good at pretending, you know.”
She picked up the remote and turned it off.
“Well, since you have decided not to let me enjoy a moment of peace, you can as well tell me everything you have found out.”
I rolled my eyes and laid down on the bed, turning my back to her.
“I will, just not now.”
“I don’t think that is an option.” She crawled closer.
I immediately turned over.
The bed was big enough, she didn’t need to come over.
Something inside me felt her coming that close could be dangerous, to her, to both of us and in some certain ways I didn’t want to think about, or I shouldn’t think about.
“Fine.” I stretched out a hand, stopping her before she could move dangerously close.
For the next few minutes, I briefed her on everything, of course leaving aside the part I had embarked on a little rampage.
Kaira’s eyes narrowed, “It’s been days, she must have been far gone.”
Before I could respond, a knock rattled the bedroom door.
“Enter.”
The door pushed open, and Oliver stepped in.
He stopped short for a second, his eyes shifting between Kaira and me.
“Can I speak with you outside for a brief moment?” He glanced again at Kaira, then at me.
Perhaps concerned that whatever information he brought could disturb her health.
“Just say it here, Oliver,” I replied, not breaking my gaze from Kaira.
“She’s already in the loop.”
Oliver swallowed hard, stepping fully into the room.
“Someone got to her before we did.”
I turned, my gaze fully on him.
“We found her dead.
Her throat was slit from ear to ear, sitting right next to a packed suitcase.”