by Rina Kent
“I’ll go get you something hot to drink.” She smiles at me, then stares at Aiden. “Be nice.”
“I’m anything but nice, remember?” He gives her an undecipherable glance, and although I can’t quite read it, Elsa’s cheeks redden.
It’s fascinating how they can understand each other with a mere look.
That’s how Jonathan made me sit on his lap or lie on my stomach. Sometimes, he didn’t have to say a word, and even if he did, it was because I was acting out to hear his commanding tone.
I shut the door on that thought and him. Jonathan is the last thing I need on my mind right now.
He doesn’t want to touch me anymore. He thinks I’m insane.
Dickhead.
I try to erase him by focusing on the scene in front of me.
Elsa runs her fingers up Aiden’s chest and whispers something in his ear. His left eye twitches, but his expression remains the same as she disappears around the corner.
Aiden watches her back, then his attention snaps to me — dark and unreadable. Just like his damn father.
He sits opposite me, and I tighten my hold on the towel.
“Get on with it,” he speaks in his stone-cold tone. “The faster you do, the sooner you’ll be out of here.”
What a great host. But I don’t say that. “When you were younger, did you notice something wrong with Alicia?”
I’m almost sure he’s taken aback by the question, but his features quickly return to their normal coldness. “What is this about?”
“Margot said Alicia had episodes where she roamed the house during the night and made things up. She also scribbled over books and walls and —”
“Shut up.” Aiden’s jaw tightens.
“Tell me, please. I need to know.”
“Why? So you can pity her? Feel sorry for not being there? What is your angle exactly?”
“Because I might be becoming like her,” the words leave my mouth in a haunted whisper.
My fingers shake until the towel nearly falls. My teeth start to chatter, but it’s not due to the cold.
Aiden regards me for a second too long, not speaking. I’m not sure if he’s weighing the words he’ll say or just making sense of mine.
“What gave you that idea?”
“I think I’m having hallucinations. Things I swear happened aren’t real, and I’m starting to doubt the things that did happen.”
“That does sound like Alicia.” His voice is calm, low. He rests his elbow on the armrest and leans his head on his knuckles. “She had nights where she insisted she saw ghosts. She wrote about them and even sang them a lullaby. Levi and I thought it was fun, but Uncle James, and especially Jonathan, forbid us from seeing her when she was in that state.”
“Was it…bad?”
“Not when I was young, no. She used to read to me and circle words she thought were interesting. I think she got too bad too fast as I grew up.” His fist clenches. “And Jonathan did nothing to help her.”
I see it then. The grudge. The pain.
It was unnoticeable at first because, like his father, Aiden traps his feelings in a vault. It could be due to his abnormal childhood, losing his mother while being so young, or being raised by a control freak like Jonathan. It could be all of them.
The fact remains that Aiden blames his father for Alicia’s death. Just like I did in the past. I thought he didn’t protect her and that, because of his disregard, my sister died too soon.
“Was Jonathan too negligent?”
“To her physical needs? No. But to her emotional ones?” He scoffs as if that’s all the answer I need.
“I’m so sorry.”
He pauses, lifting his head a bit. “What are you apologising for?”
“Not being there when she left. It would’ve been different.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says, but there’s no harshness behind it. “It wouldn’t have been.”
“It would’ve. For both of us.”
Maybe if I’d been there, I would’ve somehow filled the emotional gap between him and his father. Maybe they could’ve anchored me after losing the only two people I considered family.
Maybes are too cruel.
The fact that those things didn’t happen and never will hurts worse than physical pain.
“You’re not her,” Aiden whispers.
“I know. I never wanted to be.”
“No. You’re not her.” There’s no accusation in his voice. It’s more like…sadness? “You won’t fall like she did.”
“What makes you think that?”
He hesitates. It’s the first time I’ve witnessed Aiden hesitating. “Jonathan never looked at her the way he looks at you.”
My breath shortens at his words, but before I can say anything, Elsa saunters in carrying a mug of hot chocolate and places it between my stiff fingers. The warmth dissipates some of the cold, but it doesn’t fight off the tremors.
I don’t miss how Aiden’s eyes follow Elsa’s every movement as if she’s the magnet to his steel. It’s like he’s physically unable to keep his attention off her.
“You have to change your clothes so you don’t catch a cold,” she tells me. “We’re different sizes, but I’ll see what I can find.”
“No, I better go.” I start to stand, but she gently sits me back down.
“Nonsense. You can’t drive back this late and in the midst of this rain. Stay the night.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Jonathan won’t mind if you spend a night out.” Elsa peeks at her husband and asks in an unsure tone. “Right?”
“He would.” Aiden lifts a shoulder. “But stay anyway.”
Both Elsa and I freeze, unsure if we heard him correctly. Did Aiden just tell me to stay over?
Elsa is the first to recover and grins at him wide, her nose scrunching. “Totally. Let me get you some dry clothes.”
Fifteen minutes later, I’m wearing one of Elsa’s dresses. She’s one or two sizes smaller and I’m taller than her, so the cotton material tightens around my breasts, stomach, and hips, and it doesn’t even reach my knees.
Still better than wet clothes. I also change my bandages to dry ones. Jonathan’s voice about not reopening my wounds echoes in my ears the whole time.
Then he looked at me that way. Like he thought I was crazy. Like he was disappointed in me.
I can’t chase that look out of my head, no matter how much I try. I also can’t stop thinking about his platonic touch this morning.
It could be that I’m being petty, but I opt not to tell him where I am. He’s not my keeper. He doesn’t need to know where I’m spending my night.
I join Elsa in the kitchen, and to my surprise, she’s only Aiden’s sous-chef. His movements are organised and precise, and he knows his way around everything.
“Do you always cook?” I try, expecting him to ignore me.
He nods but barely pays me any attention. Well, that’s a start, I guess.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” Elsa leans in to whisper. “I don’t cook, like at all. Aiden doesn’t let me.”
“Well, I’m not so good at cooking myself,” I murmur back. “No one should allow me near a kitchen.”
We both laugh, and Aiden throws a glance that suggests he’s not happy to be left out of our conversation.
We try to help him out, but he shoos us away, so we make the table, which is situated near the lounge area.
Elsa and I sit there, sipping wine and staring out the large window that the dining table overlooks. The droplets of rain running down it form long lines and the streetlights give the view a cosy feel.
It is a peaceful night, and I should enjoy it. I could if my heart would stop sinking like an abandoned ship.
“I’m sorry if I interrupted your plans,” I tell Elsa.
She slides the glass of wine on the table. “More like Aiden’s plans, but they’re everyday plans, so he can wait.”
“Are you sure he won’t hate me more?”
“He doesn’t hate you.” She bites her lower lip. “I mean, you’re the woman who tamed Jonathan King. Anyone would respect you for that — Aiden included.”
“I didn’t tame him.” Far from it. If anything, whatever we had has been destroyed since my hallucinations.
“Have you seen the way he’s possessive of your time and attention?”
“That’s because he’s a control freak.”
“Well, that he is, but it’s more. I can tell.”
“You can tell, how?”
“It’s in the little things, you know?”
“The little things?”
She takes a sip of her wine and leans her head on her palm. “Okay, so here’s one. When we sit for family dinners, Jonathan doesn’t touch his food until he makes sure you’re not only settled, but you’ve also started eating.”
“He just likes everyone seated.”
“Jonathan?” She laughs, the sound throaty. “He couldn’t care less about us. He only started that habit when you joined our dinners.”
“Oh.”
“There’s also the way he watches you so you’ll eat or how he snaps at Aiden or Levi whenever they address you. It’s like he doesn’t want your attention divided from him.”
“He snaps at everyone.”
“Not usually. Jonathan is the type who issues orders in the calmest, most frightening way. And he doesn’t actually snap at Aiden and Levi — at least, not when Astrid and I are there.” She grins. “You brought colours to his previously bleak world. I can feel it.”
Her words are supposed to lift my mood, but it flattens at the reminder of what recently happened.
Before Elsa can go on, Aiden re-joins us with plates of pasta and meatballs.
Elsa’s cheeks are red, and mine must be, too, considering this is our second glass of wine.
She tiptoes and kisses Aiden on the mouth, smiling. He deepens it, uncaring for having me as an audience. His arms wrap around her waist and he grabs her by the small of her back as he tongues her with intense passion.
I sigh into my glass of wine, watching them — probably like a creep. At least Aiden shows his emotions freely in front of Elsa. His father is stone-cold and demands punishment for every kiss and night in his bed.
He did kiss you and sleep with you without a punishment last night.
That was before he looked at me that way, so it doesn’t count.
Elsa pulls away, her cheeks coloured crimson. Aiden’s eyes are blazing as if he’ll push her on the table and take her right here and now. That was probably their plan for the night before I interrupted.
As if reading into his intentions, Elsa flops onto her seat, forcing Aiden to do the same. At first, the meal is spent in awkward silence, but Elsa brings up uni and a debate club that Aiden and his best friend named Cole attend.
She complains that they’re only there to make everyone’s lives hell.
Aiden counters that not everyone is boring like her politically correct colleagues.
That gets them both talking and arguing in an adorable kind of way. Or more like, Elsa argues. Aiden seems to rile her up on purpose just to get on her nerves.
“Can you believe this?” Elsa asks me. “Did you have people like this at uni?”
“My best friend, Layla. You met her at that charity. She’s so argumentative and doesn’t like to be ignored. She’s tiny, wears a religious scarf, and appears clueless and soft, so when she made a ruckus in debates, everyone kind of looked at her in awe.”
“She seems so cool,” Elsa says.
“She is.” I’m so proud of that little bugger.
Aiden takes a bite of his food. “Invite her for dinner at Jonathan’s someday.”
“She and Jonathan don’t get along.” I pick at my pasta. “She’s always threatening to practice her black belt karate on him.”
He smirks. “Even better.”
“She does that?” Elsa speaks in a slightly spooked voice.
“Yeah, I swear she has no fear for her life.”
Elsa is about to say something, but the bell rings. She starts to stand, but Aiden gets up first, puts two hands on her shoulders, and sits her back down.
“There’s no way in fuck someone is going to see you drunk.”
“I’m not drunk,” she argues.
He pinches her reddened cheek. “Uh-huh.”
Aiden disappears around the corner before she can say anything.
She leans over. “Tell me more about your friend whom Jonathan hasn’t killed yet.”
“She calls him Johnny.” I giggle, then slap a hand over my mouth. Apparently, I’m also drunk.
I try to never get drunk, because that messes with my senses, and I can’t protect myself if I need to, but I guess I feel safe here.
That’s…both weird and comforting.
“No way! And he lets it happen?” Her gaze trails behind me. “Jonathan.”
“He can’t really stop her.” I giggle again and don’t bother to suppress it. “She’s fearless.”
“No,” Elsa whispers. “Jonathan is here.”
I turn around, and sure enough, my tyrant has come to find me.
14
Aurora
For a moment, I think it’s a play of my imagination.
However, the image forms clear in front of me. My blurry vision slowly takes him in from bottom to top. The sophisticated shoes, the pressed suit, the big, masculine watch that gives off the same hard vibe as him.
And then his face. Those sharp features and defined jawline that are meant to cut. His hair appears slightly damp, which means he got caught in the drizzle outside.
It’s only when I’m trapped in his steel eyes that I finally breathe. Or maybe I stop breathing altogether.
I cut off eye contact before I see that look. The one he gave me last night and this morning. The look that guts me open without him having to say a word.
Jonathan slides into the chair beside me with utter confidence, as if Aiden and Elsa’s dining table is an extension of the King mansion. It takes everything in me not to stare at him some more, get lost in him some more. Just…more.
Aiden joins his wife, but before he can sit down, Jonathan’s authoritative tone makes him pause. “Where’s my plate?”
“You weren’t invited. There’s no more food.”
Elsa starts to push her pasta in her father-in-law’s direction. “You can have mine.”
Aiden presses his palm over hers, gently stopping her. “Nonsense. I’ll get him a plate.”
Jonathan raises a perfect brow. “I thought there was no more food.”
His son narrows his eyes on him for a beat before he disappears into the kitchen.
“How did you find me?” I whisper what I’m thinking.
This is another reason why I don’t drink. My inhibitions kind of disappear, and sometimes, I don’t know when I’m thinking aloud.
“I always know where you are.” He removes his jacket, places it on the chair beside him, and loosens his tie. “You don’t really think you can escape me, do you?”
I should focus on what he’s saying, but my entire attention is robbed by the way his lean, masculine fingers glide over the tie, wrapping around it. Tugging on it.
Why am I not that tie?
As if answering my thought, Jonathan’s knuckles glide over my cheek, turning up the heat a notch. “You’re warm. Have you been drinking?”
I motion at my half-empty third glass. “A little?”
His gaze holds mine, and I’m caged in the moment. It’s like he’s taking me hostage, and I can’t, under any circumstances, find a way out.
Not that I want to.
Aiden re-joins us and places the plate in front of his father — not so gently, might I add. Jonathan takes a moment before he drops his hand from my cheek.
“What is this supposed to be?” Jonathan asks as he stares at the pasta with meatballs.
“Food. Eat it.” Aiden pauses. “Or don’t.”
> “You made it?”
“So what if I did?”
“Is it edible?”
“It is,” both Elsa and I say at the same time, then we break down in giggles.
Jonathan throws me an indecipherable glance before he takes a tentative bite of his food. Although Aiden pretends to be focused on his plate, his gaze keeps filtering back to his father.
The latter says nothing, but he keeps eating, which means he likes it. Jonathan is a tyrant and picky in everything — food included. He wouldn’t have continued if he didn’t like it.
Elsa asks Aiden to pass her the salt, and he says no because it’s not good for her health. Elsa tells him he’s being too much.
While they’re busy arguing, I lean over to Jonathan until his woodsy scent smothers me and murmur, “Tell him you like it.”
He turns his head so his lips are mere inches away from mine. His attention remains on my mouth as he whispers back, “What was that?”
I gulp at the heated look in his eyes. It’s so different from the one he gave me this morning. Maybe that one will never appear again? Or is this wishful thinking because I’m drunk. “The pasta. Tell Aiden you like it. That would mean so much to him.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
Even though he doesn’t show it — and never would — Aiden does care about his father’s approval, in a way. There’s just a deep hole between father and son that’s almost impossible to mend, and after talking with Aiden, I’m certain it started after Alicia’s death. Instead of fulfilling child Aiden’s emotional needs, Jonathan brought him up to be just like him. Impenetrable, hard, controlling. In his mind, he probably wanted his son to be the best, like everything about his own life. However, I don’t think Aiden knows that. I feel like he thinks his father doesn’t care about him in any other way, except for the fact that he’s his heir.
Jonathan does, though. I hear him every other day asking Harris for updates about Aiden and Levi. From the outside, it might seem like an extension of his control freak nature, and to some extent, it is, but he also makes sure they’re fine and protected. Jonathan is the type who brings the world down if anyone so much as bothers his family. He just doesn’t express it. In turn, Aiden doesn’t know it. There’s a huge gap between father and son, and it’ll take a long time to resolve the pile of miscommunication cluttered in their relationship.
