Touch (A Denazen Novel, Book 1) Page 10

  “No, it’s okay,” I lied. “I was never his favorite person. I just always thought it was because of my mother, which obviously it’s not. But if he doesn’t care, why does he want me back? He’s making the trade, but I doubt it’s to keep up appearances. It doesn’t seem like it’s something he’d need to do…”

  Dax didn’t answer right away. He looked down the path, then tilted his head to the sky. After a few minutes passed, he said, “I’m torn. You’re a good person, I can tell. I want to tell you not to go back to him, but I need my nieces back.”

  He realized his mistake and squeezed his eyes closed for a second. “Niece,” he corrected as his foot stomped against the ground.

  “I know you have to do this to get the information for Ginger, but be careful. He intends to use you. You’ve been on the other side of enemy lines. You’re a new source of information now. You might be able to make it work in your favor—I can see what you’re planning to do—but I’m warning you. It might be harder than you think. If he were to find out who you really are…”

  I opened my mouth, but Dax stopped me.

  “I’m not going to say anything to anyone. Your secrets are your own. I just want you to know there’s a good chance this won’t go the way you’re planning. For all you know, he has it all figured out. And if he doesn’t, well, your father’s not a man easily fooled. You may have to play that ace you’ve got tucked inside your sleeve. You can’t hide yourself forever…”

  Normally, if someone had said that to me, I’d tell them I’d made a career out of fooling my dad, but I wasn’t sure anymore. I was the one who’d been fooled all this time.

  “Look alive.” I nudged his arm and whispered, “Make it look real.”

  Seeing Dad walking down the path, Dax seized my arm, fingers digging into my skin, and hauled me from the bench. We stood in the path and waited while Dad and a tiny ghost of a girl approached. As they neared, I tried to keep my expression one of fear and pain. It wasn’t easy.

  Mona walked beside Dad like a zombie, eyes vacant, expression dead. Her measured steps tapping the ground matched his perfectly.

  Clap. Thump. Clap. Thump. They stopped about five feet away, Mona staring ahead, straight through her uncle. There was nothing. No emotion, no recognition. Only empty brown eyes, partially obscured by a mop of mousy brown curls.

  “What’s wrong with her,” Dax growled. He probably didn’t mean to, but his fingers twitched, and I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep from yelping.

  “She’s fine,” Dad replied.

  “Bullshit! Look at her. She’s the walking dead.”

  “For the sake of my own safety, drugging her was a necessity for transportation. It will wear off in several hours.”

  I got the feeling the drugs would wear off in a few hours, but the damage Denazen had done to this little girl would never wash away. Rage burned. Had they drugged Kale, too? I could see it sometimes—that small, unmistakable hint of madness sparking behind his eyes. I remembered his words to Alex back at Roudey’s. “It hurts to be grabbed like that.”

  How could I be the flesh and blood of such a monster?

  “Send her over,” Dax said, twisting my arm with such force that it brought tears to my eyes. He gave me a hard shake for good measure. “And I’ll send this one over.”

  “Send Deznee first.”

  Dax laughed. “Of course. Because you’d never think of double-crossing me.”

  “Of course not. That’s my daughter you have there. I would never risk her safety.”

  LIAR, I wanted to shout, but held my tongue.

  “On the count of five, they both go.” Dax compromised. Dad nodded in agreement, and Dax began to count. “1…”

  I knew the whole thing was a setup but still, acid bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

  “2…”

  Dad’s face remained impassive. “Everything will be all right, Deznee.”

  “3…”

  The sound of his voice burned my ears.

  “4…”

  I tried to clear my mind. Brandt told me once I had an expressive face. It gave everything away. All my anger, my surprise, and, most of all, my worries about Kale had to be pushed from my mind.

  “5.”

  With a slight shove, Dax released my arm while at the same time Dad leaned forward and whispered something in Mona’s ear. She started walking. The distance we had to cover was short, but her steps were small, so I slowed my pace. When we crossed in the middle, she gave no acknowledgement of the situation or my presence and passed without a word.

  Dad didn’t put up any appearances. He wasn’t standing on the other side with open arms welcoming me home safe. He stood rigid and expressionless, waiting in silence as though annoyed this was taking so long. Was it too much to ask for a little fake emotion? When I reached him, I turned to see Dax wrapping his arms around the little girl, who returned neither his embrace nor tears of joy.

  He looked up and our eyes met. I cleared my mind, knowing he could see the truth behind my thoughts, not the words. “I’ll kill you for what you did to me,” I said quietly.

  He chuckled, arms tightening around the child. “You’d have to find us first.”

  I gave him a smile that was all tooth. “Trust me, I will.”

  §

  We rode home in silence. Dad hadn’t said anything since we’d reached the car and he told me the door was unlocked. Now, as we drove down the main drag, I had to fight the urge to grab the wheel and veer us into a tree. Dad never wore his seatbelt.

  I had to say something. There’s no way he’d believe my silence, even if I did manage to pull off the trauma angle I was going to aim for.

  “Were you worried about me? Even a little?”

  His eyes never left the road. “Don’t be foolish. Of course I was worried.”

  Silence.

  “When—” I stopped myself in time—I’d almost said Kale. Using his first name definitely wouldn’t portray enough fear. “When he knocked on the door the other night, I thought it was you. That you’d left your house key at the office again.” I kept my eyes straight ahead, looking at the dashboard. “When I opened it, he surprised me and forced his way inside.”

  Dad didn’t look convinced. “Why did you run off with him?”

  Yeah. That would need a good explanation. Deep breath. “Seriously? I live to piss you off. I would’ve French-kissed Satan on your desk if I thought it’d irritate you. You obviously didn’t want me near him, so I left with him.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “He said he knew a friend of mine. We went to his house, but people showed up and tried to take him away. I didn’t know what to think, one of them attacked me, so I ran with him again. We ended up at a downtown bar. He traded me to that guy for some cash and took off.”

  “So he’s gone?”

  “I’ll find him. I helped him—he tricked me and then sold me to that Mr. Clean psycho.”

  “Did he hurt you?” His question was empty of emotion—clinical, like inquiring about a used car for sale.

  “He—” This is where I had to really ham it up. “He made threats.” I touched the side of my face where the man from Denazen had smacked me. The bruise had lightened, but was still there. “He roughed me up a little—nothing major—but the threats… The things he said he’d do if you didn’t give in to his demands… He was going to rip me apart and mail me back to you piece by piece.” At least part of it was the truth.

  I squinted against a set of oncoming headlights—stupid high beams—as we turned into the driveway. Dad shut the engine off and turned to me. Time to put my bullshit skills to the test.

  “I was so scared, Dad. I thought he was going to kill me.”

  I’d never been a cryer. Even as a child, skinned knees, loud noise
s, darkened rooms, nothing ever set me off. So when I decided to turn on the waterworks for a major impact, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.

  It hadn’t been the memory of the cold, dead look in Mona’s eyes, or the expression on Dax’s face when he overheard Kale talking about Monica. It wasn’t even the thought of being in the same room with Alex after so long, hearing his voice or the memory of finding him with that girl.

  It was Kale. The slightly haunted look in his eyes. The way his hair flopped over into his face. The way he’d tried to attack Alex and Dax—for me. Strange and damaged—possibly beyond repair—but there was still something about him that made me feel alive. More alive than any rave or cheap thrill I’d ever chased before.

  I hurt for the things my dad had done to him.

  I missed him.

  The tears came with ease.

  12

  I must’ve taken after my mom, because Dad could sleep through a Powerman 5000 concert. On stage. Under Spider One’s boot. It was a fact I’d exploited countless times to get in and out of the house in the middle of the night. But a pin could drop down the road, and I was wide awake.

  Keeping my eyes closed, I shifted under the covers. The wind whistled through my open window but that hadn’t been what I’d heard. Someone else was in my room. My first thought was Dad, but I tossed that idea out right away. I’d locked the door, and since it locked from the inside he couldn’t get in from the hall.

  Someone was breathing softly in the corner—probably near the window. Alex had snuck through countless times while we’d been together. But this wasn’t him. It didn’t feel like him.

  And then I knew. There was no doubt in my mind who stood there. Kale.

  A jolt of excitement coursed through my body. Alex used to tell me he’d sneak in and watch me sleep. I always knew he was there, though, and feigned sleep, loving the idea of his eyes on me. It gave me a thrill to know he was watching. Occasionally I’d let my bare leg slide from under the blanket, visible all the way to just below my danger zone.

  This…this was different. I could feel Kale’s eyes on me, his breathing a bit faster than normal. I imagined his hand skimming my bare leg from hip to knee, remembering what his lips had tasted like back at the hotel. The images had me fighting to keep my own breathing even as my pulse spiked.

  Eyes still closed, I turned onto my back, managing to slide the comforter down until it was tangled between my feet. By the window, Kale shifted positions as well, moving closer. He made no sound, but I was aware of him all the same.

  Arching my back, I turned on my side, toward the window. I feigned an itch, hooking the edge of my tank top over my finger as I rolled, causing it to ride up. Knowing his eyes were on me, knowing he was slowly moving forward, made me bolder. I stretched my right hand above my head, over the pillow, and brought my left hand up to brush my hair from my face.

  Kale took another step. Now he was standing over me.

  It took serious willpower to force myself to stay silent and keep my eyes closed. I didn’t know what he’d do if he knew I was awake. I didn’t want him to back away. Didn’t want him to look away.

  The chilly night air sent an icy jolt to my exposed skin. To my surprise—and unbelievable happiness—the end of the bed dipped as Kale sat down. A moment later, a touch, cottony light, traced a path from my toes, up my leg, and stopped right below the hem of my shorts.

  I couldn’t help it. I inhaled sharply and shimmied onto my back, somehow managing to keep my eyes closed. His fingers stayed there, resting on my exposed skin for a few moments before trailing upward, over the material. Palm down, he ran his hand up my torso and paused at the hem of my white tank top, now just below my heart. For an insanely drawn-out minute, I thought for sure his fingers would slip beneath, warmth enveloping me. I’d open my eyes then and test my limits.

  But they didn’t.

  His hand lingered for a moment more before he pulled it back. “Dez?”

  A little disappointed, I brought my hands up and rubbed my eyes. “Hmm?” When my vision cleared, he was standing again, inches away from me. “Kale?” I sat up, adjusting my top. “Are you all right?”

  He backed away a bit and shook his head. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, about locking the bad people away.”

  “Okay…”

  He was tired. His eyelids were drooping. “Did they know I’d do bad things? Is that why they kept me there?”

  “Huh?” I didn’t understand what he meant at first. When it hit me, I felt like someone had dropped a brick over my head. “Oh God, Kale, no.” I slid back, leaned against the headboard, and motioned for him to sit next to me. He hesitated for a few moments before climbing across the bed.

  “After you left, I talked to people, I read a—newspaper? I’m a horrible person. I deserve to be punished. Like I punished all those people. I murdered them. That’s why Denazen kept me locked up—because I deserved it.” He turned away, looking back at the window.

  “That’s not true.”

  “In the beginning, when they started my training, they’d go days without bringing me food if I didn’t do what they told me. They only gave me a glass of water a day. They’d dump it out and tell me bad children had to lick it off the floor. By the time they brought food again, I could barely stand.” He shook his head, lips twisted in anger. “Dax’s niece will never be normal—I’ll never be normal. They isolate us, break us down. They dig in our heads until they find what makes us tick, then they rip it out. Most crack. They just cease to be. All they are, are Denazen-made weapons. Others are weak. They become what Denazen shapes them to be. In exchange for their humanity, they get some semblance of freedom.”

  He took a deep breath. For a minute I didn’t think he’d continue.

  “I thought I was different, though—I had Sue. She told me I’d make it through as long as I held onto my humanity. As long as I remembered she loved me, they couldn’t destroy that. But she was wrong.” He looked up at me, eyes glistening, and shook his head. “When I turned ten, they made me kill for the first time. They were graphic—very detailed. They said they’d peel the flesh from Sue’s body if I didn’t do as I was told. By the time I was twelve, I accepted my life. Denazen owned me.”

  My mouth was dry. “No one owns you,” I whispered.

  “I knew it was wrong. Everything about Denazen—it was all wrong. But then, when you left earlier, I found out I was wrong. I’m as much to blame for the bad I’ve done as they are. I could have made the choice Monica did. I could have refused to let them use me. You said I was strong, but I’m not. I’m weak.”

  He reached down and ran his index finger from my thigh, right below the hem of my shorts, down to my knee. It left a trail of fire in its wake. “I don’t deserve this.”

  For the second time in twenty-four hours, tears came easily. “Stop it,” I whispered. I didn’t know what this was, but the lump forming in my throat and the heat building in the pit of my stomach told me I needed to find out.

  With his eyes on me, so sad, I couldn’t take it. I sat up and climbed onto his lap, resting my forehead against his. Inhaling, I committed his scent to memory. Earthy. Like the woods after a long rain. My arms slipped across his shoulders, and my lips found his. The kiss was tentative at first—brief. I pulled away until I could see his face. I’d had a lot of guys look at me like I was a fun vacation on the beach, but the way Kale’s ice-blue eyes devoured every inch of me, full of heat and hope, I felt like Christmas morning. Timeless and perfect.

  It spurred me on. I leaned in again, but this time Kale met me halfway. His strong arms encircled my waist, dragging me closer. His mouth moved with mine and twice our teeth clinked, but it didn’t matter. When Alex first kissed me, our teeth had banged together. It made my skin crawl. Kale’s hands were everywhere—my neck, my face, under the back of my tank top—any
where he could make skin-to-skin contact.

  I drew his bottom lip in and nibbled. God, he tasted good. Like root beer and bubble gum and heat mixed with something unique. Something all Kale. His fingers clutched the sides of my face, sliding up to tangle in my hair. I broke our contact once again—despite his protests—and tugged off my tank top. He didn’t waste time staring. Urging me close, we crashed into each other, collapsing in a heap.

  When I finally drew away again, we were lying across the bed, our legs intertwined with each other.

  “I don’t deserve to feel like this.” His voice cracked. The weight of his gaze shattered me. “Not after everything I’ve done.”

  “Come here,” I whispered. When he managed a sitting position, I pulled his shirt up over his head and ran my hands down his neck and across his shoulders. I remembered what he said about his daily training schedule. The weights and the hours of martial arts. He was in amazing shape. My index finger trailed down the middle of his chest and I fought back a shiver.

  With each touch, his breath quickened. I could feel the heartbeat hammering inside his chest as he clung to me, almost as if he was terrified I’d let go.

  Kale’s eyes were wide as he brought his hands from my face to my bare throat. His touch, like an electric current, slid down my neck and over my shoulders, then down each of my arms. I arched my back as he struggled to pull me closer, nails scraping bare skin in desperation. But I resisted with a sly smile—just to see what he’d do—and I wasn’t disappointed.

  “Please,” he rasped as he pushed us down and turned me onto my back. “Please…”

  I opened my mouth to tell him he didn’t need to beg, that I wanted this as much as he did, but his actions stopped me. Lowering himself, he slid one arm under the hollow of my back, the other resting across my stomach. Reaching over, he grabbed my hand and laced his fingers with mine. As he nuzzled my stomach, a soft noise escaped his throat.

  The wind outside picked up as Kale’s breathing evened. I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes.