Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)

The cold was seeping down to my bones, and I hung my head, my eyelids falling closed.

My mother was either smoking away what I gave her or buying a new outfit right now. Whatever it took to make herself feel better.

Wouldn’t she just love to see me doing whatever it took to bring in more money? Of course, she’d feel sorry about it, but really, what did she think was going to happen to me when Damon bought me all those years ago? She had asked him what he wanted me for. He simply answered, “Does it matter?”

It didn’t. In a perfect world she wanted to be able to afford to care, but when it came down to it, she had no idea what he could’ve done to me, and the unknown wasn’t enough to stop her from giving me away.

I was what Kai said I was. A tool. Something others used.

My eyes welled up again, and I wiped my cheek with my sleeve.

“Morning.”

I shot my eyes to t

he right for a quick glance.

Kai’s black pants were covered in raindrops, and he approached, a duffel bag over his shoulder and a folded newspaper over his head. I turned my face away, which I knew must be red and splotchy. I didn’t want him seeing me like this...my street cred and all.

“What…” He stopped at my side, under the awning. “You’re soaking wet. What hap—”

“Don’t ask me any questions, please,” I begged in a quiet voice. “I just got caught in the rain, and I…I’ll be fine.”

I squeezed my fists, trying to warm my hands, but I failed to hold back the shivers.

I hadn’t looked at his face, but I didn’t hear him move for a moment, so I didn’t know what he was doing.

Finally, I heard the door unlock and open.

“Get in here. Come on,” he told me.

He held the door open for me, and I ducked in under his arm, entering the dojo’s kitchen. I could call David and ask him to come, after all, to bring me some clothes. Or maybe there were some extras of those polos the employees wore. I could stick it out in my wet jeans for now.

I bit my lip, shaking, as Kai came in, dropped his bag, and turned on the lights. I glanced up, seeing he was in a white button-down, his chest visible through the wet drops. I just stared at him for a moment. His hair wet and sticking up, looking incredible and beautiful and taking my mind off the cold for a moment.

He came over, handing me a towel, but then he took my other hand, trying to take me somewhere.

I jerked out of his hold.

I didn’t need to be taken care of.

But he turned around, fixing me with a glare. “You don’t want to fight with me right now,” he warned. “Just do as you’re told. You’re good at that.”

And he took my hand again and pulled me after him. I stumbled a step, following him through the kitchen, into the lobby, and down the hall. The whole place was empty and dark, except for the small glow of the lights lining the trim on the bottom of the walls.

He pushed through the door to the women’s locker room, and led me past the lockers, toward the showers.

Opening a stall door, he reached in and turned on the water, the rainfall showerhead high overhead coming to life. Water started to pour and steam instantly billowed.

God, that looked good.

“You’re freezing,” he said, turning back to me. “Get these clothes off.”

He reached for the buttons on my jacket, and I knocked his hands away. “No.”

I crossed my arms in front of me, embarrassment swelling up inside me. “Don’t touch me.”

“I wasn’t going to touch you,” he said, his voice suddenly softer. “I just want to take off your jacket, okay?”