Page 42 of Bound By Ink

“I’m okay. Thank you.” He hovers, staring into my eyes. The bruising I can feel will be apparent soon, but I give him a small smile. He looks uncomfortable, like he doesn’t quite know what to do. I just want to cry. The worst thing is, Killian would know what to say. We wait awkwardly for a few mins, ragged breaths exiting us both, but we just stand staring at each other before he gives me a hesitant smile and walks away.

I appreciate him stepping in, but we don’t have that close a relationship to talk about it. And that breaks my heart. That’s when I start to cry. Which makes my face hurt and sting. I would usually talk to Killian, but I’ve fucked that up by sleeping with him. I don’t have anyone now, not even Derren.

My arms slide into my dressing gown, cinching it at the waist, and I head into the bathroom. I stare at myself in the mirror. My eye is starting to close; it’s already swollen and bruised. My lip is bleeding and split. I stutter a sob, turn the shower on, and step inside. I rest my head against the wall and sob uncontrollably until I can’t cry anymore, then I slide down to the bottom of the shower. I curl my knees up to my chest, resting my unbruised cheek against my knee.

How do I move on from this? Where do I go from here? The man I thought was my person used me for a quick fuck, albeit an epic fuck, and then left me in bed.

And choosing Derren was a mistake. Now Killian will never speak to me again.

Killian

Chapter 21

I gave him space. I gave him time. He’s ignored me every step of the way. I don’t know what to do for the best. The fight’s coming up, and I’ve been taking my mood out on the gym.

I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been, but my mood is the worst. My usual happy, flirty self has been replaced with an angry, mopey bastard. It’s not a great combination. I need to see him. I need to set everything straight, and yet I’m reluctant to force the issue. We belong together, but how do I get him to realise that and to allow me back in?

I stand outside the house, staring at it. After huffing out a breath, I shake out my shoulders and step forward. I’ve faced down bigger men than me, and I’m six foot four. I’ve stared them down while confidently outwitting them and outfighting them. Yet, I’ve never been this nervous. Seeing him, chasing him, it all makes my stomach churn.

That night we spent together; everything fell into place. That realisation that it’s him and always will be him fills me with a need to be near him. I don’t know where the love I have for him turned from a brotherly affection, aprotective family bond, to being in love with the man he’s become, but that will have to be figured out another time. I sigh as I knock on the door and ring the bell.

“Scott, door,” I hear Steven yell from the living room.

I shake my head; some things never change. Scott comes down the stairs, and my boots become really fucking interesting right now. As the door clicks open, there’s a gasp, and the door starts to close again. I lift my boot, pushing it into the doorway as I look up to meet his gaze, but my heart is destroyed when I see him.

“Scott… Who the fuck did that to you?” I push the door, and he stumbles back, turning his face away from me. I step inside. He bolts, running up the stairs. I watch his back retreat, and I clench my fists. I slam the door.

“Steven, who the fuck did that?” I snarl, staring him down from the hallway.

Stevens shakes his head. “The boyfriend. I had to pull him off him the other night.”

I snatch the door open. “I’m gonna rip that motherfucker’s head off.” My hand freezes on the handle as Steven glares at me.

“Killian… Maybe you can talk to him. He’ll listen to you.” Steven actually looks concerned. “He won’t talk about it. Not to me, anyway.”

“I don’t think he’ll talk to me, either.” I slide off my jacket and kick off my boots. After flicking the lock on the door, I stand rooted to the ground, focused on the stairs, trying to figure out what the hell I’m gonna say. I move one leg, followed by the other, painstakingly taking every step, consciously hoping for more to materialise. When I find myself standing outside his door, I knock. I can’t bring myself to walk in.

“Scott, it’s me. Can I come in?” I let out a breath. “Please?”

“Just go away, Killian. This doesn’t concern you.” Pure frustration comes through the door, but I need to actually make it into the room first so I can make this right.

“Come on, Scott, just let me in.”

“I don’t want to.” He sighs, and I rest my head on the door, my hand hovering over the handle.

“I’m coming in.” I push the door open. He’s curled up on the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around one of his pillows, gripping it against his chest.

“Scott,” I breathe. He freezes at my voice, and I wait, not wanting to overstep. I click the door closed behind me and stand there, watching him. Wanting to hold him, to wrap him in my arms and tell him everything’s gonna be okay, like I’ve always done. I want to fix it for him if he’ll let me.

I step toward the bed. I lie down behind him, sliding one arm under his head and wrapping him in my arms. He tenses as I tighten my grip.

“I’ve got you.”

After a minute, he relaxes and expels all his emotions as he silently cries. I just hold him. I don’t speak. I know I can’t because this isn’t about me. But I’ll find Dickhead, and hewillfucking pay. I just silently love him while he shakes in my arms.

I cling to him. Eventually, his breathing slows, his body stops shaking, and all the tension leaves him. But I refuse to leave this time. That misunderstanding ripped us apart.I knowI didn’t leave, but he clearly saw it as rejection, and I need him to understand that I didn’t rejecthim. I would never. I need him to know that he can always trust me.

If he doesn’t want me, I still want him. I want our relationship to be the same. I want to be us again.