Page 38 of Beautiful Trauma
“Don’t you?”
“Like tonight?”
Chuckling, he replied, “While I’m not saying no to another round or two, I’m talking about seeing each other again.”
“For sex?”
“Of course,” he replied. But then a flicker of vulnerability shone in his eyes. “Or more.”
“More?”
With a shrug, he replied, “Yeah, like a date.”
Oh God. Was this really happening? “A date,” I repeated lamely.
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
In another life, this would’ve been the dream. The hottest sex of my life leading to a potential relationship. What more could a woman want or need?
But this was my complicated, fucked-up life. There was no future where I danced into the sunset with Kellan. Not as Mya or as Mila.
Although it shouldn’t have, it cut like a knife.
Especially when I caught sight of my purse sitting on the back of the couch.
Instead of facing the truth, I decided to continue embracing the fantasy. “I’d like that a lot.”
“Good,” he replied before burying his head in my neck.
Closing my eyes, I willed myself not to look at my purse. It was a glaring reminder of what was to come. Like the bells tolling midnight in Cinderella.
As Kellan feathered kisses along my collarbone, tears welled in my eyes. I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. If I did, Dima and Aleks were likely to come storming in to save me.
One of my hands went to Kellan’s back to rub circles along his skin. The other went to my purse to slowly slide the syringe out.
A shudder echoed through me as my other hand momentarily paused in touching Kellan to uncap the needle. “Are you cold?” Kellan asked, his breath warming the skin above my breasts.
At that moment, I despised his compassion. I hated how it weakened my resolve. I hated that once again a man had power over me.
Despite all of that, I couldn’t help the growing ache in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
Kellan pulled his head up to stare at me. His brows furrowed in concern. “Are you crying?”
“Just know I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Mya, what–”
The needle jabbing into his neck cut off the rest of his words. My chest clenched at the look of betrayal that momentarily flashed in his blue eyes before they rolled back in his head.
And then he collapsed against me. Fighting my tears, I began easing out from under him. Considering how heavy he was, it wasn’t easy. It was almost as if I was dragging the weight of my conscience with me for what I’d done to him.”
When I was finally free, I exhaled a ragged breath. Taking my purse, I slid the earpiece back in.
“Dima?”
“I’m here.”
“He’s out. I’m moving to the devices.”
