figure it out if need be. ”
He wanted to laugh, but his charm emerged, and he produced his most dazzling smile. “A damsel in distress is my specialty, buttercup.”
“Oh, I’m not in distress. I’m just pregnant with some guy’s baby I’ve said five words to, and facing something called detox or Transitioning into a bloodsucking vampire, both of which might kill me. I’d call it death pounding on my door, and I opened it and let it waltz right in.”
Chapter 8
She woke to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. Instantly awake, she clenched the sheets up to her neck and sat up. She relaxed the moment she recognized Kilter’s shadow.
He approached the bed, eyes looking tired, circles beneath, hair tussled as if he’d had a rough night’s sleep. He smelled of denim and soap again, the familiar scent making her feel calm.
“There’s fruit, a protein shake and oatmeal in the kitchen.” She recognized the pattern, putting food in front of her, hoping she’d suddenly gorge herself. “I need you to eat.”
He stood at the foot of the bed, the muscles in his jaw pulsing, his eyes focused in on her. He appeared as if he was going to say something else then thought better of it, yet he remained where he was. His expression looked conflicted, brows lowered over his eyes, lips pursed and curving downwards in the corners. It was his hands clenching and unclenching that showed his unease. Was he waiting for her to reply?
“I know,” she replied, hoping that was enough.
He gave a curt nod, half-turned, then ran a hand over his day-old stubble. “They think you should be in a rehabilitation center.”
Oh , God. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding with trepidation.
“Your weight.” A frustrated growl came from his throat. “I will fight them on this , Rayne. You need help, but I can find another way.”
She heard the determination in his voice, the resolve. But the fear escalated to panic, pins and needles crawling up and down her limbs like tiny spiders, heart pounding erratically. Her evil twin was bearing down on her with shackles, ready to trap her in the bottomless pit of apprehension.
Kilter strode over to the side of the bed. She saw a flicker of anguish in his eyes then it was gone, replaced by his glower. “I won’t let them take you. I’ll convince them. You know that, don’t you?”
But he couldn’t stop them, could he? They were Senses. He was just one. She suspected Kilter could and would take on ten of them if he chose, but odds were against him.
He reached forward and pushed a stray strand of hair back from her cheek to rest behind her ear. It was a slow, deliberate touch and she found herself taking a deep breath to try to calm the nerves jolting through her body.
“Rayne?”
She looked up at him.
“I’ll get you help, you need help, but for you, that isn’t the way.”
She nodded and lowered her eyes from his intensity. Keeping her shields in place and trying to keep her balance with Kilter was difficult at best. His strange need to protect. Her strange need to trust him.
He put his hand under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “I need you to trust me , Rayne. Can you do that?”
She did, but she didn’t trust his friends. A shiver coursed through her body at the thought of being locked up again. No. Not again.
Kilter’s thumb rubbed over her chin as he raised his brows. “I need a response.”
“I . . . I am trying,” she replied.
He hesitated several seconds, then gave a curt nod as if satisfied. “I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”
She watched him go, wishing she could trust his words, but knowing it was safer to stay hidden.
****
Kilter closed the door to the gym and walked to the treadmill. She was screwing with his head with those soulful eyes and magnetic inner sweetness. It was there hidden behind that shield she put around her, and he couldn’t blame her. No, she had every right to build a cement fortress with
He wanted to laugh, but his charm emerged, and he produced his most dazzling smile. “A damsel in distress is my specialty, buttercup.”
“Oh, I’m not in distress. I’m just pregnant with some guy’s baby I’ve said five words to, and facing something called detox or Transitioning into a bloodsucking vampire, both of which might kill me. I’d call it death pounding on my door, and I opened it and let it waltz right in.”
Chapter 8
She woke to the sound of the bedroom door creaking open. Instantly awake, she clenched the sheets up to her neck and sat up. She relaxed the moment she recognized Kilter’s shadow.
He approached the bed, eyes looking tired, circles beneath, hair tussled as if he’d had a rough night’s sleep. He smelled of denim and soap again, the familiar scent making her feel calm.
“There’s fruit, a protein shake and oatmeal in the kitchen.” She recognized the pattern, putting food in front of her, hoping she’d suddenly gorge herself. “I need you to eat.”
He stood at the foot of the bed, the muscles in his jaw pulsing, his eyes focused in on her. He appeared as if he was going to say something else then thought better of it, yet he remained where he was. His expression looked conflicted, brows lowered over his eyes, lips pursed and curving downwards in the corners. It was his hands clenching and unclenching that showed his unease. Was he waiting for her to reply?
“I know,” she replied, hoping that was enough.
He gave a curt nod, half-turned, then ran a hand over his day-old stubble. “They think you should be in a rehabilitation center.”
Oh , God. She closed her eyes, her heart pounding with trepidation.
“Your weight.” A frustrated growl came from his throat. “I will fight them on this , Rayne. You need help, but I can find another way.”
She heard the determination in his voice, the resolve. But the fear escalated to panic, pins and needles crawling up and down her limbs like tiny spiders, heart pounding erratically. Her evil twin was bearing down on her with shackles, ready to trap her in the bottomless pit of apprehension.
Kilter strode over to the side of the bed. She saw a flicker of anguish in his eyes then it was gone, replaced by his glower. “I won’t let them take you. I’ll convince them. You know that, don’t you?”
But he couldn’t stop them, could he? They were Senses. He was just one. She suspected Kilter could and would take on ten of them if he chose, but odds were against him.
He reached forward and pushed a stray strand of hair back from her cheek to rest behind her ear. It was a slow, deliberate touch and she found herself taking a deep breath to try to calm the nerves jolting through her body.
“Rayne?”
She looked up at him.
“I’ll get you help, you need help, but for you, that isn’t the way.”
She nodded and lowered her eyes from his intensity. Keeping her shields in place and trying to keep her balance with Kilter was difficult at best. His strange need to protect. Her strange need to trust him.
He put his hand under her chin and forced her to meet his eyes. “I need you to trust me , Rayne. Can you do that?”
She did, but she didn’t trust his friends. A shiver coursed through her body at the thought of being locked up again. No. Not again.
Kilter’s thumb rubbed over her chin as he raised his brows. “I need a response.”
“I . . . I am trying,” she replied.
He hesitated several seconds, then gave a curt nod as if satisfied. “I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”
She watched him go, wishing she could trust his words, but knowing it was safer to stay hidden.
****
Kilter closed the door to the gym and walked to the treadmill. She was screwing with his head with those soulful eyes and magnetic inner sweetness. It was there hidden behind that shield she put around her, and he couldn’t blame her. No, she had every right to build a cement fortress with
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