His Scars

27. Silent and Unrequited

It's so haaarrrrddd to write from a guy's perspective sometimes. I'm trying to understand Kane but he's so freaking closed up it's hard. He needs to learn how to share his feelings with me. Useless boy. I'm so frustrated. 

But the words kind of came to me when I was listening to this song. 

Anyway, here is another update, Kids!

Please cry. Thanks.

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KANE 

I couldn't get the image of her in that little black dress out of my mind. The enticing curve of her neck and shoulders and those long legs. I never knew a choker could fill me with so many immoral thoughts. 

I had begun to run at night so that I wouldn't bump into her in the mornings while she wore
skin-tight leggings and tops that made me crave her. The one place I couldn't avoid her was class. I had to sit there while I felt her stare holes into the back of my head. If I hadn't moved forward, I would have been the one doing the staring. 

I lay in bed with a book after my shower, happily drained of energy after my workout when my phone started ringing. 

Dom. 

I frowned. He didn't usually call me. If he needed anything he stuck to texting. 

"Hello?" I said into the phone. 

"Sage is drunk at a party right now. I need to take these dumbasses home. She's refusing to leave with me. She's too drunk even to stand. I need you to come pick her up."

I ignored the gnawing worry. "Can't you take her with you?" 

"She's refusing to leave. She said she wants to forget and another guy offered to take her home. I've threatened him, but you need to take her home. Please. It'll take too long for me to come back for her and she's too drunk to leave alone for that long." 

I was out of my bed in an instant. Yanking on a pair of joggers and grabbing my hoodie, I was in my truck in record time. 

When I walked into the party, I didn't see her anywhere. She was not dancing or mingling in the living room. As I was headed to the kitchen, I could see her through the open doorway. She and a guy I'd never seen in my life stood pressed together. 

Red-hot jealousy tore through me as I watched his mouth work against hers and the way his arm held her tight against him. 

If she hadn't stopped me, I would have pounded his face in. My anger was only partly due to my jealousy. It was clear to see that she could barely stand on her feet. And she had promised me she wouldn't do something like this if I ever hurt her. She promised me she would be strong.

I tried not to think about how her hand felt in mine as I guided her through the dancing crowd. Soft, small and warm. Just as I remembered it. Just as the ghost of it had felt over the last two months. 

Every second I got too close to her, my heart felt like it was being pulverised. My body moved around her like muscle memory. Lifting her into the seat, strapping her in for safety, cherishing that moment of closeness before I inevitably pulled away. 

Her gaze burned into the side of my face as I drove us home. Her slender fingers fiddled with each other on her bare thighs. 

The drive felt too long. But not long enough. The clock ticked down to the last few minutes that I would have with her until I finally stopped outside her gate. 

I dared not look at her. I might not have been able to let her go a second time. Especially if she was looking at me with that longing puppy dog look I was so used to. I feared that my resolve would crumble and I would damn everything to hell.