Page 64 of Black Heart

19

LAYLA

Kaden’s hands are washed of blood, gore, and dirt. By the time he returns from the woods, his tall figure emerges from the dense fog like a demon born of shadow and sea. The soft morning light streaming in through the misted window illuminates the scar that splits his face, a testament to his darker talents of being able to bury his enemies, then stride into my kitchen and put together a hot breakfast.

My cuticles are still stained with dried blood after bleaching and wiping down the floors, but instead of attempting to scrub the blood off my hands (again), I watch him move behind the counter with surprising grace, the juxtaposition of his lethal skills and his current domesticity almost laughable.

The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the earthy scent of moss-covered cobblestones outside and contrasting with the latent stench of death that clings to our clothes.

After setting down plates laden with food, Kaden joins me by sitting on one of the worn wooden chairs at the small table.

“Thank you,” I murmur, picking up my fork and pushing the scrambled eggs around.

Our conversation consists of the clinks of metal on ceramic until Kaden lifts his head and searches my face. “Morelli knows I’m the one protecting you now. His interest isn’t just in the AI anymore. He’ll come after us doubly as hard.”

I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth. Then I place it back down.

“You’ve been provoking him,” I counter, trying to hide the sting of my words behind a casual shrug.

Kaden rubs his fingers over the stubble on his jawline and nods in agreement.

“Yes.” His acceptance of guilt surprises me. “And I’m sorry.”

A truly fleshed-out apology from Kaden is as unusual as a sunny day in Greycliff. My gaze lingers on Kaden’s face, on the lines of concentration that crease his forehead and the constant storm brewing in his vibrant blue eyes.

“Why do you look so calm?” he asks, lowering his fork onto the plate with a clatter and leaning back with a frown.

Because I have you,I want to respond. But I only shrug again and offer him a small smile.

“I’m not helpless, Kaden. Besides,” I add, feeling a flush creep up my neck. “I’m starting to trust you.”

Kaden stares at me, his eyes reflecting a rare mix of shock and confusion. Then he gives me a curt nod.

“Good,” he mutters under his breath.

“The AI,” I say, trying to veer the conversation back into less treacherous territory. “We need to figure out how to neutralize it.”

His focus sharpens on me. “As I’ve told you before, I don’t care about the damn AI, Layla. All I want is Morelli.”

“But you can’t just kill him and walk away. This isn’t just about revenge. A lot of people will suffer if we don’t destroy it.”

“He killed my daughter and made her suffer. That’s all that matters.”

“I can do more than just wait around for you to end Morelli.”

“I won’t put you at risk?—”

“But I’m already at risk!”

I stand, my chair scraping abruptly against the floor.

“Because of you,” I repeat, my voice louder than intended. “In case you forgot, you walked into my life and turned it upside down!”

The following silence is painful, broken only by the hissing of the overflowing coffee pot. Kaden’s jaw tenses as he gets up and moves to the drip machine, yanking the pot off the hot plate.

His back is to me, but even from here, I can see how rigid his posture is.

“I didn’t plan for this, either,” he says after a while, his voice barely audible in the deafening silence.

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