Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) (18 page)

I was hypnotized, captivated by his words as they trickled through my soul. At what they meant. They meant nothing. Words. That’s all they were. I couldn’t let them trick me. Let me fall again.

“Don’t look at me for that, Killian. I couldn’t even safe myself. Not from you. Not then. But I can save the both of us right now.” On that, I turned on my heel and stormed out.

Killian didn’t know exactly what he expected Lexie’s life to be like, but it sure as fuck wasn’t this. Not a day had gone by in the last four years that he hadn’t thought about her. Wondered what she was doing. Who she was with. Every day was a battle not to get on his bike and ride to her. Find a way back to her. He’d always stopped himself because he knew she was living a life she deserved. That she was destined for.

But this?

This was the furthest thing from what she was destined for. The fuckin’ photo shoot where they drenched her in makeup, covered up everything that made her beautiful, and turned her into a plastic version of herself. Where she posed like some kind of doll to sell fuckin’
lipstick
. Hours spent in front of a camera, smiling and joking with everyone despite all the shit she’d been through. She didn’t portray an inch of it. She was playing a part. And playing it so well it disturbed him. Because the only reason he knew the truth was because he’d been there and saw what she was dealing with. It made him wonder, made him fuckin’ terrified that the past four years he’d been seeing exactly what he’d seen today. A performance. An act to disguise the shit that life was throwing her.

Then the reporter. Another show. Dressed up in expensive shit, still Lexie, but a different version, the celebrity version. Again, too much makeup, not as much as before but more than she needed. The moment the reporter brought up the dead fucker, Killian thought he might explode. Or shoot the reporter. He had been leaning toward the latter. Then Lexie took over, expertly leading the reporter, answering questions like a politician.

Every word she spoke about how she missed that actor was like a knife to the gut. The world loved Lexie. They mourned with her that she lost this… person she loved.

He couldn’t even talk to her about him. He didn’t want to. But he had to find out the truth if what she had with him was just a performance. Killian thought it was. Because he knew how fiercely Lexie loved, and if anyone she truly cared about had been taken away from her, she wouldn’t be calmly talking about it with a stranger. No. Even this new version of her wouldn’t be able to do that, he was certain. He didn’t miss how her voice cracked when she talked about the security guard. Her friend. The one she’d visited every single day.

No. She hadn’t cared about the actor. Not that it mattered.

He hadn’t had a moment to talk to her this entire day. Not a second to try and figure out if his freckles was still in there somewhere, and if he could get her back. Her life was too busy, and he was too busy shielding her from cameras and lookin’ out for the person who he’d planned on killing. But he had to find time to dedicate to talking with her, and soon. He couldn’t live like this, with her ignoring him. He needed her to scream, to curse him out. Something. This indifference would kill him.

He’d hoped there would be time when they got to the venue for the sound check, but the band had gone straight to rehearsal, and he’d gone to meet with Keltan to make sure the security was tight. Killian hadn’t wanted her to play a fuckin’ show, too many risks. But then Lexie had insisted she wouldn’t hide away. He got it. He didn’t like it, but he got it. It made him proud. She was strong. Brave. That hadn’t changed.

He’d left the meeting with Keltan in time to catch a couple of their last songs. They hit him like they always did. The words of Lexie’s pain sounded beautiful and ugly at the same time.

But they weren’t what hit him the hardest. It was the song she sang after the rest of the band left. The song she sang to him. He knew it as soon as her voice caressed the first line. The second the pain, the unfiltered and pure pain, poured out of her.

He’d been unable to move, to think for the length of that song. Then when she was finished, he had to get all the people out of that fuckin’ room. He had planned on going to her, telling her how fuckin’ sorry he was, how much he still loved her. Then he’d planned on claiming her mouth, on dragging her back to her fancy bedroom and sequestering them in it.

Then she’d opened her mouth. Her soft voice drenched with anger and she’d cussed at him. It had shocked him. Another reminder that she wasn’t the Lexie he’d known. He’d loved. He still loved this version, he’d love any version, but he’d been unprepared for her anger, for the words she’d screamed at him. Hearing her say them to him, not sing them in a song, had fucked him up. Fucked him up enough to let her walk away and leave him standing there, stewing in their mutual agony.

“You’re not going in there,” Killian declared.

I didn’t look at him. Instead, I moved to open the door. His hand clasped over mine, and I glared down at it. My body responded immediately at the touch, and I tried to still my pounding heart. “Get your hands off me,” I hissed.

Despite my tone, he didn’t do as I asked. “Look at me, Lexie.”

With great effort, I tried to ignore this command, but my eyes betrayed me.

His eyes blazed. “You can’t seriously think I’ll let you go in there?” He nodded to the building. “With the shit that’s going on? The danger you’re in?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t seriously think you have any fucking right to
let
me do anything? You threw that right away years ago. Now get your fucking hands off me,” I replied with venom.

We had barely spoken since yesterday, since the shouting match at the stadium. I couldn’t look at him without hurting. I knew he wanted to talk. I could feel the energy pulsing off him. Luckily, I had three enthusiastic protectors who made it their mission not to let Killian be in a room alone with me. And I had a schedule that meant I wasn’t stationary practically the whole day. I had meetings to plan the rest of the tour, recording sessions, and various other appointments. Killian followed me the entire time. I had to bite my tongue multiple times, on the edge at screaming at him to leave. I reminded myself of Zane and Mom, at how I was doing this for them.

Killian let me go, his jaw hardening at my words. I immediately wrenched out of the car, unable to be in there without suffocating. I strode into the gym, trying to pretend Killian wasn’t at my back. Trying to pretend he didn’t exist.

*****

“Out,” a hard voice barked from behind me. I whirled around to see Killian standing off with Keltan, who I’d been training with for the past half an hour. Killian’s entire form had stiffened when he’d watched me get into the ring with Keltan and start sparring with him. I’d tried to ignore him, but it was fucking hard when his eyes were glued to my every move. I was never more aware of how tight my leggings were or how my top rode up showing the skin of my belly as I had been for the last thirty minutes.

Keltan glanced at me, then Killian. Then the crazy idiot smiled. He took off the gloves and threw them at Killian. “Good luck,” he said. It wasn’t apparent who he was speaking to as he left the ring.

I faced off with Killian, who was putting on gloves. “What are you doing?” I hissed, breathing heavily. Keltan wasn’t really going hard on me. In fact, I knew he was holding back since it hadn’t been nearly as difficult as it was with Duke, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t working up a sweat.

“I’m giving you the chance,” Killian said, looking up.

I didn’t let my gaze fall from his. “The chance at what?”

He stepped forward. “To let it all out. All that anger I see behind your eyes. All that hate. Here you go.” He held his arms away from his body. “Have at it.”

I froze at his words. He thought I hated him. I saw it in his eyes when he said it. In the tight way he’d held his body when he said it. He actually thought I hated him

I should. I knew that. But how could I ever hate him?

I might hate myself for still loving him so goddamn much, but it would be physically impossible for me to hate him.

“I’m not doing that,” I declared, turning so I could escape the pain on his face.

He moved so fast he was almost a blur. He was now in front of me, inches away. “Yes, you are,” he growled, his breath on my face. “Do it, Lexie.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he rasped.

I stood in front of him, frozen at how close our bodies were, at the pain that came with that proximity. Like a waterfall, the pain overflowed, the anger mingling with it so I almost didn’t recognize my own emotions. My fist went up, aiming for his face.

He blocked it easily. “You can do better than that, freckles.”

It was the name that did it. “You don’t call me that,” I half screamed. Then I let loose. I worked on autopilot, violence I didn’t even recognize pouring from me as I fought him. Fought him for my life. He dodged for a start, blocking my punches and moving around the ring with me. Then he didn’t. Then he let my hits land on his chest. They were uncontrolled, viscous and full of every ounce of pain and anger I’d been nurturing for the past four years. Before I knew it, I was pounding so hard on his muscled chest, my hands started to ache. Then I couldn’t see him as tears streamed down my face, the first I’d let fall since that day at the dock a thousand years ago. I almost lost my feet from underneath me as I finally surrendered to it, the sorrow, the hurt, the anger, all of it. Before I could, Killian’s arms circled around me, yanking me to his chest. I fought him for a start. Fought him hard. With everything I had. Then I stopped. Then I sank into his chest, trying to bury myself in there. He squeezed me tight, wrapping me in the embrace that I’d craved. That I’d feared.

His lips pressed into my neck, but I didn’t react to it. I was at the mercy of the tears I had been holding back for years. Tears that drenched the front of Killian’s shirt. That shook my body so hard I thought I might fall apart if Killian’s arms weren’t around me.

He stroked my hair, murmured in my ears through it all.

I finally found some kind of sanity after an indeterminate amount of time. Somewhere, I found enough strength to pull myself from his arms. I glanced around, the gym was empty. That was lucky. Killian’s hand went to my chin, directing my gaze back to him.

I blinked through my blurry eyes. “Why?” I choked out, my voice husky.

I wasn’t prepared for the answer to this, the question that had plagued me for years, but I had to know. I couldn’t go on like this, with him in my life, without knowing.

He knew exactly what I was asking. He stepped back, as if he needed distance to answer it. The gesture hurt, but I didn’t let it show. I hurriedly tried to build my shield of indifference back up.

“You remember that day at the movie theatre? The one where I told you that sometimes freedom meant breaking chains described as laws?” he asked.

I wanted to shake my head, to deny that I remembered every single second with him, that my traitorous mind travelled to those moments in my dreams. I wanted to deny all of that and somehow construct the illusion that I threw away all of those moments the second he threw away my heart.