Page 58 of All for her Forgiveness

Past

As I walkin the direction Kennedy went, I tell myself that all I’m going to do is try to knock some sense into her head.

I’m not close to the Coreys, but I know that the bastard, who must be just a little younger than me, maybe twenty-six, twenty-seven, has appeared several times in scandalous headlines. Unlike his brother, whose name escapes me now but who is a respected lawyer, Ryan is an idiot.

They are the only heirs of a traditional American family.

I’m not a hypocrite. Besides the desire to prevent Kennedy from messing up her own life, I’m insanely jealous.

I know I need to make a decision. Either I take her for myself and end this obsession that has turned my days into a living hell, or I let her go and leave her to live her life.

Live, not destroy, and that’s what will happen if Kennedy gets involved with Ryan.

My blood boils the closer I get to her. What does she think she’s doing, walking to the back door of the club? Did she arrange to meet him here?

“Kennedy,” I call, grabbing her arm, and the moment I touch her, the memory of the only time I had her like this hits me with the force of a hurricane.

“Hades?”

“Come with me. We need to talk.”

I’ve been to this club before. I know the owner and the place like the back of my hand. It’s a safe place for Pam to celebrate her birthday with friends. Nothing like SIN, which belongs to Ares and is definitely off-limits for my ward, or Hazard, which belongs to Beau and is even more off-limits for the girls than SIN.

I open one of the doors to a private room and am pleased to find it empty. I had the club closed so Pam could celebrate.

“What do you want?” she asks. “You’ve never come to visit me since I arrived, and suddenly you want a private conversation with me?”

The idea was to talk to her about college, about what Pam said, that Kennedy was spending her afternoons with Ryan and didn’t want to study.

None of that crosses my mind, however, when I see her standing just an arm’s length away.

I close the door behind me and know, just by looking at her, that our attraction is mutual, no matter who she’s dating.

“You’re not going to stay with him,” I state like a caveman.

“What?”

“Ryan. I’m not going to let you stay with him.”

“I’m not with him.”

“He’s not your boyfriend?”

“Of course not. I . . .”

I move closer, making her back up until her body is pinned between mine and the wall. “You’re free?”

“Why so many questions?” she responds evasively, but I see a nervous swallow work her throat.

“Say you’re free, Kennedy.”

Her gaze falls to my mouth. “I am, Hades. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She pauses. “No relationship that prevents me from kissing someone.”

“Someone? No, me, Kennedy. Only me.”

The way her head tilts when I hold her neck, the way her lips part and her body trembles against mine, is my answer, but it’s when her arms rise and Kennedy goes up onto her tiptoes to wrap them around my neck and moans a needy “please” that all the restraint I’ve worked on over the past month goes to hell.

My heart pounds intensely in my chest, echoing in my ears like a tribal drum.

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