Page 83 of Unmask
“Brass knuckles, huh?” He leaned nearer. “Yeah, I could get behind that.”
I shook my head but couldn’t ignore the flutter in my chest. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“Yeah,” he said, his hand reaching out to trace a finger along my jaw, the touch featherlight but burning. “You crashed into my life.”
The truth in his words hit harder than I expected. Giving in to the pull I’d been fighting, I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the solid warmth of him, the way his breathing hitched slightly at the contact. “Touché.”
When we pulled up in front of Carson’s house, Evan cut the engine, but neither of us moved. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken words. I stared at the familiar front door, the closed blinds, and the darkened porch light that Carson usually kept on. The house looked hollow, abandoned, like grief had already moved in and made itself at home.
Kreed’s fingers found mine, intertwining without permission, his thumb tracing circles on my skin. The gesture was soft, intimate in a way that made my heart skip. “You sure you want to do this? He was pretty pissed last night. He might not be ready to talk.”
I stared at the front door, imagining Carson behind it, probably pacing, probably not sleeping, probably drowning in the same helplessness threatening to consume me. My chest ached at the memory of his frantic voice on the phone, the desperation bleeding through every syllable when he’d called about Kenny. “I have to try,” I said. “Since he isn’t answering my calls or messages, he left me no other choice. I need to know if there’ve been any updates. I need to see how he’s doing. Pissed off at me or not, he’s still my friend.”
Kreed tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, drawing out the movement longer than needed. His eyes searched mine. He gave a short nod, and I reached for the door handle, my heart pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
I barely got two knocks in before the door whipped open with enough force to rattle the frame. Carson stood there, and the sight of him made my breath catch. His usually perfect hair was a mess, dark circles shadowed his eyes like bruises, and his clothes looked as if he’d slept in them…ifhe’d slept at all since Kenny vanished.
His gaze landed on me first, and for just a heartbeat, relief flitted across his features before his eyes shifted to Kreed behind me, and his relief crystallized into something hard and cold. “Oh,” he said flatly. “You brought him.”
I didn’t flinch, though his tone cut deeper than I wanted to admit. “Can we come in?”
He stepped aside without answering.
Kreed followed behind me, and the second the door shut with a decisive click, Carson rounded on me. “You think now’s the time to play house with him?” His dark-blue eyes glared murderously at Kreed. “Our best friend is missing, probably locked up in some goddamn hell, and you’re—what? Hooking up with him?”
The accusation hit like a slap, but I kept my voice steady. “Carson,” I said softly, trying to reach the friend I knew was drowning beneath all that rage. “I’m doing everything I can to help Kenny. That includes working with Kreed?—”
“Him?” Carson’s voice pitched higher as he gestured wildly at Kreed, his hands shaking slightly. “What the hell does he know about helping anyone? His family has blood on their hands. Don’t think for a second they don’t have their own shady involvement in all of this.”
Kreed didn’t respond right away, but his silence hung dangerously.
Carson stepped close enough that I caught a whiff of liquor on his breath, invading my space. He didn’t day drink, and I doubted he’d gone to school today, not that I blamed him.
Kreed, in a fluid half step forward, put him subtly between us. The movement was casual enough to seem natural, but there was nothing casual about the way his shoulders had set, the way his hands had gone loose at his sides.
Carson’s eyes burned with a wild, desperate fury, making him look half mad. “You going to protect her from me?” The words dripped with bitter sarcasm as he snorted, chest heaving. “At least I didn’t take advantage of her when she was vulnerable.”
“That’s enough,” Kreed said quietly. “Cool off.”
But Carson was beyond reason, beyond cooling off. His grief had twisted into something ugly. “I didn’t have to trick her to fuck me.” He hurled the words as he shoved Kreed, both hands slamming into his chest with all the force of his pent-up rage.
Bad move.
I gasped.
Faster than I could blink, faster than thought itself, Kreed had him spun around, and the thud of Carson’s body hitting the wall went through the room. One of Carson’s arms was pinned behind his back at an angle that had to hurt, the other braced across his upper chest, Kreed’s forearm a steel bar forcing him still against the plaster.
Kreed leaned in so that his breath was hot against Carson’s ear. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he warned. “But if you try to hurt her—if you so much as breathe wrong in her direction again—I won’t stop at pain. I’ll make you bleed.”
The threat hung in the air, visceral and real. Kreed’s muscles coiled beneath his shirt, the controlled power in every line of his body.
“Kreed!” I shouted.
He didn’t move. Didn’t even acknowledge me. His focus was on Carson, who was pressed against the wall like a butterfly pinned to a board.
Carson struggled, his face contorted in a mask of anger and shame, but he wasn’t going anywhere. His feet scrabbled against the floor for purchase he’d never find. He had no training, no chance against someone like Kreed.
“Kreed,” I repeated, firmer this time, placing my hand on his arm. “Let him go. Please.”
