Beyond the Gates

Chapter 9: Confrontations and Confessions

Kinn's POV

As I walked towards the balcony, I was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to reach Big before it was too late. The fresh air should help clear my mind, but then I spot them, Porsche and Vegas talking in the garden. Porsche was animated, as usual, and Vegas simply listening, his face lit up by a small, genuine smile.

Wait. A smile? When was the last time I saw Vegas smile like that? Other than around Macau, I couldn’t recall seeing him like this—ever. A wave of unease settled over me as I watched Vegas’s expression soften even more while Porsche rambled on. What could Porsche possibly be saying to make Vegas smile like that? Porsche walked away, probably heading back to Khun’s room, but even then, Vegas was still smiling at his retreating figure. What the hell is going on? Before I can even make sense of it, Vegas turns around and catches me staring at him. His smile shifts into a smirk, the kind that made my blood boil. He knew. He always knew how to get under my skin.

I wanted to march down there and wipe that smirk off his face, but I resisted the urge. Instead, I pushed away from the balcony and stormed back inside. I needed to stop thinking about Vegas and focus. Big. I needed to find Big and talk to him—make things right.

As I stepped back into the room, I noticed Ken standing there, holding some documents. I hadn’t even realized he was waiting for me.

“Here’s the document you asked for,  khun Kinn,” Ken said, handing me a stack of papers. I took them, but my mind was elsewhere. Big was usually the one handling these tasks. Why wasn’t he here? Is he avoiding me again?

“Isn’t this Big’s task?” I ask, keeping my tone cold despite the questions racing through my mind. Ken doesn’t seem fazed. “Big’s not feeling well. He asked me to take over for him.”

A flicker of concern wells up inside me, but I push it down. “Is he sick?”

Ken shrugs. “I’m not sure. He seemed tired, and he hurt his leg at the gym or something. He’s been limping.”

Limping. My mind flashed back to last night—what happened between Big and me. No, he wasn’t limping because of some gym accident. It was because of me. A small, guilty smile tugged at my lips, but it was quickly replaced with concern. What if Big had a fever or something because of the soreness?

Without another word to Ken, I head straight to Big’s room. As I stand outside his door, hesitation washes over me. What if he doesn’t want to see me? What was I even going to say? But I’ve come this far. I take a deep breath and open the door.

Big is sitting on his bed, and the moment he sees me, he tenses. “What are you doing here?”

I closed the door behind me and walked towards him. “We need to talk,” I said firmly.

Big’s response was immediate, and it hurt to hear his tired tone.“I don’t have anything to talk about. Just leave.”

But I’m not backing down. Not this time. “I do. I want to talk about us... about yesterday.”

The hurt on Big’s face was evident, and I can see him trying to hide it, but I know I’m pushing him to the edge. “There’s nothing to talk about, Kinn,” he stammers, looking down.

I can’t bear to see him like this, vulnerable because of me. I stepped closer, feeling the weight of the words I was about to say.“There is something to talk about, Big. I’ll take responsibility.”

Big scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m not some fragile girl who needs you to ‘take responsibility,’ Kinn. If you’re here to talk because you feel guilty or because you want to take responsibility, then don’t. I know it happened because of the heat of the moment, not because you got any feelings for me."