“Is it that fucking hard?” Kai set his feet on the tile of the next level and leaned down on his elbows, staring at Michael. “You’re so tortured. Had it real tough, haven’t you, Michael?”

I sucked in a breath and dived down, picking up Michael’s black shirt and covering myself.

Oh, my God. He’d been here the whole time? What the hell?

“A beautiful girl looks at you like you’re God her entire life,” Kai continued, shifting something small and red from one hand to the other over and over again, “and you’re never going to get anything better, because there is nothing better, and you still can’t say it? Do you know how lucky you are?”

Michael stood silent, his eyes narrowed on Kai. He wasn’t going to argue with him. He never would. Giving Kai’s accusation any attention would give it credibility.

Kai dropped his eyes, still spilling the small red items from hand to hand and looking solemn.

Do you know how lucky you are? Had it real tough, haven’t you?

“What are those?” I asked, tightening the shirt around my chest.

“Shells,” he answered.

Shells? I peered more closely at them, seeing the gold ends and tattered heads, scrappy and blown out.

Shells. Shotgun shells.

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And they’d been fired. My heart started thumping.

“Why do you have them?” Michael demanded.

But Kai just shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Why do you have them?” I demanded, stepping in.

I knew Kai was struggling, but why the hell did he have shotgun shells?

“They’re from the last time my grandfather took me shooting clay pigeons,” he explained, no emotion in his voice. “I was thirteen. It was the last time I remember being a kid.”

He stood up and walked down the levels, a white towel wrapped around his waist and his black hair slicked back.

“Sorry I didn’t make myself known sooner,” he said, approaching us. “I guess I…”

He trailed off as if thinking better of what he was about to say.

“You guess you what?” I asked.

He shot a glance at Michael before averting his eyes, admitting, “I guess I wanted to see if it would turn me on.”

Heat spread up my face, and I remembered what he’d said about not touching a woman in three years.

Had it really been that long?

He moved to walk around us, but I instantly stepped in front of him, not sure why.

He was so fucking lost and guarded, and if he was going to talk, I didn’t want him to stop until…

Until he felt good again.

“Did it?” I asked, barely audible. “Did it turn you on?”

His eyes shifted, and I saw him swallow like he wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe he was afraid of Michael. Maybe he was afraid of me.

I didn’t know why I did it, but I slipped off Michael’s shirt and let it fall to floor, feeling Michael tense next to me.

Kai kept his head level but his eyes were on the floor, staring at the shirt.

Every hair on my neck stood up, and I worried about what Michael would say or do or if he’d hate me, but something made my push forward.

I inched closer to Kai, the steam sitting like a cloth on my skin as he refused to look up.

“Why won’t you look at me?” I asked softly.

He breathed out a small laugh, looking nervous. “Because you’re the first woman I’ve said shit to since I got out, and I’m afraid…” His chest rose and fell faster, “I’m afraid I’ll want to touch you.”

I turned my head slowly, looking at Michael. Droplets sat on his chest, and his piercing eyes watched me as if waiting for what I was going to do next.

I faced Kai again, trying to catch his eyes. “Look at me.”

But he just shook his head and tried to veer around me. “I should get out of here.”

I put a hand up, touching his chest and stopping him. “I don’t want you to leave.”

His chest rose and fell under my palm, and his whole body was rigid as he continued to avoid my eyes.

I didn’t know what I was doing or how far this was going to go, but I knew Michael wouldn’t hold me back.

And I wasn’t so sure I wanted him to.

“Why are you doing this?” Kai finally raised his eyes, looking down at me.

“Because it feels right,” I told him. “Do you feel comfortable with me?”

He glanced at Michael who had inched closer to us, and then turned his eyes back on me. “Yeah.”

But he didn’t say anything else, and I wondered what he wouldn’t talk about? Where was the old Kai?

He looked so alone all the time, and tears lodged in my throat, because we’d all been changed forever. Michael had hated, because he couldn’t take being helpless. Kai had suffered, because his limits had been pushed, I’d gathered. And I had struggled to find out who I was and where I belonged for so long.

We’d all been so alone and so lost, wandering aimlessly, because none of us could admit that—not only were we not alone, but we couldn’t be happy alone. I needed Michael, Kai needed his friends, and Michael needed…

I wasn’t sure what he needed. But I knew he felt. He felt a lot, and I wanted that from him, and I wanted Kai to release everything that was holding him back, and I wanted the three of us to vent the pain and frustration, because it had been bottled up inside of us for so damn long.

I reached out and wrapped my arms Kai’s neck.

Burying my face in his neck, I held back the tears pooling in my eyes as I pressed my body into his and hung onto him like I was the one that needed him.




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