Page 202 of Kiss the Villain

“No, I would never hate you, Dad.”

“But you did, and that’s fine. You couldn’t help it. Because Kill is like you and part of you, so you felt like I let you down by letting him down, and you hid your true nature from me. So I would never find out.”

My jaw nearly hits the floor. “You… Is that why you never had me diagnosed even though you suspected it?”

“I didn’t want to lose another son. It was hard enough being despised by Kill.”

“D-Dad, I…never despised you or anything of the sort. I was scared that you’d…you’d see the real me and find me disturbing.”

“Never, Gareth.” He strokes my cheek. “You’re my son, I’d never find you, or your brother, for that matter, disturbing. But I understand I went about explaining that the wrong way.”

“Hotheaded, more like,” Grandpa mutters.

“Can you not add fuel to the fire?” Dad throws him a glare. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t friends with that snake Baltimore.”

“So it’s my fault I saved my grandson from prison?”

“No, but it would’ve been smarter to let us use the mafia connections instead of him.”

“Would that be before or after you throw a bitch fit?”

I can’t help the small smile that stretches my lips, because Dad said he’s not disturbed by me. Or worse, scared.

“At any rate,” Grandpa says after they’re done fighting. “Your father managed to have the evidence stolen and burned after Senator Baltimore died, so you don’t need to worry, my boy.”

“You did that for me, Dad?”

“Of course,” Dad replies, his voice steady. “I’d never let you go to prison.”

“Even if I kill again?”

Dad’s eyes darken, but his answer is firm. “I’d prefer you didn’t. But yes, even then.”

“It’s not like I’m a serial killer or anything, don’t worry.” I pause. “Though I think I would’ve become one if I didn’t have a loving family, so there’s that. I also found something to fill up the emptiness…”

The words linger as a realization punches me in the gut.

Oh.

The void hasn’t plagued me in months.

Because of Kayden.

I was so obsessed with him, so distracted by his sheer presence, bursting at each of his praises that not only did the void shrink, I also forgot about it.

He filled it, saturated the emptiness with his existence, his touch. He took me to that peaceful white room.

But now, knowing I was just another stand-in forher, the void is back. Ten times worse than before.

Wider.

Deeper.

Emptier.

“Something?” Dad prompts, his tone expectant. “Is this about the numerous calls we received about wooing a certain girl?”

I gulp. “I…it’s not about a girl.”

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