Page 20 of Worth

“When did you…get out?”

“About eight years ago. We’d been left, locked in our rooms, when a fire broke out in the house. It almost killed us both, but Zander got us out before we could become extra crispy. I was sixteen. Zander was twenty. We’ve been together ever since.”

I hesitate to ask more even though I’m dying to. He’s being so matter-of-fact, and it feels unnatural given the topic. As I consider that, I realize I wouldn’t want anyone prying into my head and decide to change the subject.

Hesitantly, I reach up, brushing my fingers over his XII tattoo. “What’s this mean?”

His smile is faint, but it’s there. “You don’t know what Roman numerals are?” he teases, and I find myself smiling.

It feels foreign on me. I haven’t smiled a genuine smile in forever. It almost hurts my face.

“Twelve,” he murmurs, touching my cheek like I’m delicate porcelain. “Twelve people that will pay for what they did to me and Zander.” He pauses a moment and then grins. “I guess it’s eleven now that you killed Jack.”

“Jack?” I ask, my voice pitching high. “You knew Jack?”

Aiden looks a little surprised. “Zander didn’t tell you?” I flush red at the mention of Zander and lower my eyes. “It’s all right, Kitten,” he chuckles. “He told me what happened today.”

“I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse,” I mutter, pressing my forehead against his chest.

Thankfully, he moves on. “Jack was Zander’s brother. Jack sold him into the Trade when their parents died.”

My head jerks up with a gasp. “Hisbrother? I killed Zander’sbrother?”

With a grave nod, Aiden gently touches my bruised cheek, where I slammed into the chair running from the asshole in question, then slides his fingers over my shoulder and down my arm until they’re tangling with my own fingers. I watch him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his fingers flexing. I’m under the impression that he’s memorizing every touch and feeling.

Then something occurs to me and I sit up so fast, I send Aiden’s arm flying off me. “He’s related to Damien?” I hiss.

“Yup,” he answers, letting the ‘p’ pop. “That’s why he was so pissed that I stole from him. He doesn’t want any ties to Damien. But asshole has so many Skins running around, they’re easy to grab. So if I want an easy acquisition, I go to Damien’s.” He looks up at me ruefully, tucking an arm under his head. “Or at least it’s normally easy. I didn’t count on you.”

He’s teasing again, but I can’t find it in myself to smile again. “Why haven’t you taken out the other eleven yet?”

Aiden shrugs. “When I got this”—he grabs my hand and presses it to his cheek, over the tattoo—“I was angry. I wanted to remember that there were twelve people who would pay in blood for their crimes. But Zander talked me off the ledge. That’s not to say my hands are clean,” he adds with a smirk. “I’m really fucking good at killing people and not getting caught. But the only times I even think about going after the twelve are the times when I lose it a little. Zander has had to intervene a few times.”

I stare at him, unable to reconcile the man who is speaking so honestly and eloquently with the crazy ass clown who kidnapped me. “I want to kill Damien,” I blurt out. “I want to kill him and Lauren, and then I want to go after Stephen and Mo. And I want to take out anyone who gets in my way.”

Aiden’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. “Kitten, that’s a lot of murder. I know you killed Jack, but I’m under the impression, by your choice of weapon, that it was kill or be killed.”

“I don’t care,” I snarl. “I want them dead.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Jesus, fuck, that’s hot,” he mumbles.

“Show me how,” I demand, moving onto my knees. “Teach me what I’ll need to know to kill them.”

Considering me carefully, he sits up so that we’re nose-to-nose. “If I do, will you stay with me?”

There’s a whole lot unspoken in that question. He’s asking for more than just time, beyond teaching me how to murder. He’s asking formore. He’s known me for all of twenty-four hours and he’s asking me to stay here long term.

I recognize obsession when I see it. I looked it in the face every day for the last few years. Aiden has absorbed what little bits and pieces of myself that I’ve given to him and now he wants it all. It’s a terrifying prospect that this clearly unhinged man has decided he wants me to be his.

Maybe it should be more terrifying to me that I’m tempted to agree on the spot, and not just because I want to slit the throats of the sick sons of bitches on my own kill list. I understand Aiden in a way that most people wouldn’t understand me. We’re one and the same.

“Aiden, I don’t know,” I murmur. I grab for his hand as his expression shutters, pulling his attention back to me. “Can we just take it one day at a time?”

It isn’t hard to see the disappointment shining in his eyes, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, Kitten. One day at a time.”

I feel desperate to ease that little line that has appeared between his brows. Without giving it much thought, I lean forward, pressing my lips to his in a lingering, chaste kiss. It does the trick; the line has disappeared when I pull back.

“What was that for?” he asks, voice rough.

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