The Way She Burns by Jessa Kane

5

Chloe

Ihold Curtis’s hand in mine and guide him out of the bedroom, walking toward the sound of men’s voices. Funny, I’m usually avoiding that exact thing. But we’re not in our little apartment beside the tavern this morning. We’re in Sebastian Spears’ home—and apparently this is where we’ll be staying for the next while.

Against my better judgment.

My lips are still tingling from his kiss, my skin burning where his hands touched me.

I’ve always thought—or hoped, at least—that I’m a smart girl. It takes a clever person to survive alone in Harding without any protection. But I’m beginning to wonder if kisses from this man have gummed up the inner workings of my brain. Every time I try and remind myself of what happens when I give in to the selfish wants of my body, I forget all of my reservations.

“Big,” Curtis says, awe-struck, looking up at the vaulted ceilings. “Big house.”

“Yes,” I agree, squeezing his little hand. “It’s a huge house.”

“Who lives in it?” asks my brother, brows raised quizzically.

A complicated man with very persuasive lips.

“A man named Sebastian. I’m going to introduce you to him now.” As I finish saying those words, we stop in front of a doorway that leads to some kind of study. Or perhaps a library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line the wall on one side, a covered window douses the outside sunlight, painting the room in muted green. Elaborate golden frames hold paintings that look like they belong in a museum, depicting harrowing scenes from the Bible or ancient battles. In the middle of it all stands Sebastian and Dobbs, the man who comes to town to pick up supplies and handle Sebastian’s business matters.

Both men turn to look at us now with very different expressions on their faces.

Dobbs looks like he’s witnessing a pair of aliens disembarking from a space craft, especially when his gaze lands on Curtis. I’m guessing he doesn’t have children.

Initially, Sebastian looks relieved that I’m still here. And on the heels of that, he rakes my body with wolfish cobalt eyes, a muscle jumping in his cheek. Making me feel decidedly naked in my post-shower outfit—a lightweight dove gray dress with buttons down the front, the hem stopping a few inches above my knees. I’ve dried out my saddle shoes from last night and put them on in preparation for going into Harding. This is the only article of clothing I could grab when fleeing last night, stuffing it into my bag and only because it happened to be hang-drying near the back window at the time. Poor Curtis is still wearing the same clothes.

I’m looking forward to changing that, even if I am daunted by the thought of returning to town after leaving in such a state of peril last night.

As if he can read my mind, Sebastian strides forward, breathtaking in a black button-down shirt and black dress pants. His hands lifts and cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over the bow of my bottom lip. “There is nothing to worry about, Chloe.”

Am I being hypnotized?

Looking into those intense blue eyes, my body seeming to pulse from head to toe, all I can do is nod. Attempt to swallow. “This is my brother, Curtis,” I murmur. “Curtis, this is Mr. Spears. This is his house.”

Curtis holds out his free hand for a shake. “Hello, sir.”

“Hello,” Sebastian says, amused, shaking my brother’s hand. “Very nice to meet you, Curtis. We’ll drop the sir and you’ll call me Sebastian. How does that sound?”

“Good…” Curtis says warily. And my heart constricts because three-year-olds shouldn’t have to be so suspicious. Unfortunately, my brother’s experience with men has been limited to the ones who pound drunkenly on our apartment door every night, trying to break it down.

“I thought we would drive into town to collect your things and get some breakfast,” Sebastian asks Curtis. “How does that sound to you?”

My brother shifts side to side in his worn-out sneakers. “I don’t know.” He looks up at me, a wrinkle between his little eyebrows. “Are the men there?”

“Not at this time of day,” I whisper, forcing a smile. “Not like that.”

Curtis relaxes. “Okay.”

I return my attention to Sebastian to find his eyes have gone cold, a vein ticking in his temple. “It’s too bad they won’t be there. I’d love to speak with them.” He clears his throat hard. “Dobbs, have the car brought around in twenty minutes.”

The other man takes a hesitant step forward, a piece of his graying hair falling over the rim of his glasses. “Are you sure, sir? You haven’t gone out in—”

“I’m sure,” Sebastian growls, sending the man jogging from the room.

* * *

Sebastian

As it happens, I’m…not entirely sure about leaving the house.

It’s been a long time since I’ve done so and the idea of venturing beyond the stone walls causes an ominous roiling in my stomach. But it calms when I look at Chloe. So that’s what I do. I stare at her like an utter maniac, soaking up her goodness and light, hoping it can pervade the darkest parts of me. And she seems to sense my disquiet, a gentle frown marring the place between her brows.

“Curtis,” she says, patting her brother on the shoulder. “Go make you bed and brush your teeth, okay? Hurry back when you’re done.”

He slumps, but when he receives a stern look from his sister, he sighs. “’Kay!”

Off he runs, leaving me alone with Chloe in the study.

“Is everything all right?” she asks me.

No, little girl. My dick is pulsing for you in that thin gray dress that molds your tits just right and I’d like to ride you bareback on the floor. That’s what I’d like to say. If for no other reason than to distract her from my obvious nervousness about leaving the house. But I’ve forfeited my right to speak to her in such a crass manner, haven’t I? Yes. She’ll hear none of that filth from me until I’ve regained the trust I lost last night.

Unfortunately, I think regaining Chloe’s trust might mean…being honest.

As in, when she asks me if everything is all right, I can’t just lie and say yes.

For one, she’s smart and she’ll know I’m not being authentic.

And two…I find the idea of revealing a small part of myself to her only slightly terrifying.

A vast difference from how I normally feel about sharing my innermost thoughts. It’s a no trespassing zone, much like the grounds of this mansion.

Just not with Chloe.

She’s the exception to the rule. To all of them, it seems. Here I am housing a child and preparing to travel into town for the first time in five years.

“Sebastian?” she prompts me again. “Is everything all right?”

I cough into my fist. “Perhaps I don’t love the idea of going into town.”

She nods, as if she was expecting that. “You haven’t been there in a long time.” Her tongue skates along the seam of her lips. “Why is that?”

“I prefer being alone, as I said last night.” I desperately want to leave it at that, reveal no more, but she’s still as a statue, waiting. Expecting more from me—and I crave that expectation from Chloe. I want her to…believe in me. Goddammit. “Before I inherited this home, along with my grandfather’s fortune, I worked in private security. Based in New York. Traveled with politicians and high-profile businessmen, mainly. It was a good living, but the money was nothing compared to…this.” I glance out the window briefly, expecting to see the ocean, but the gray walls meet me instead, and I frown. “I spent a lot of time with my grandfather as a boy, but we weren’t very close. Not as close as he was with the rest of my cousins, because my father was in the military and we moved around a lot. But…I don’t know. In my grandfather’s will, he said I would use his money with honorable intentions. He said I was the most honest among his descendants.”

“He saw something in you,” Chloe whispers.

“Yes,” I say, tight-lipped. “And he was obviously mistaken.”

She shakes her head, venturing a step closer. “I don’t think so.”

How can she think I’m worth a damn after what I did last night? How can her grace be so pure that she forgives me this easily for taking her virginity in a frenzy of lust? That grace makes me continue, wanting to return her faith. Give her something, anything, in return. “My plan was to sell this house, but once I arrived, there was something about it. Like I was supposed to be here, silly as it sounds. So I decided to remain a while. Big mistake, it turns out. My relatives, knowing how to find me, descended like wolves. Each of them had a debt that needed resolving or a business venture to be funded. And in the beginning, I helped each and every one of them. I shelled out money left and right, wanting to be accepted into the family I’d been so distant from.” I break off on a bitter laugh, tugging hard on the cuff of my button-down shirt. “It was never enough. They came back for more. Over and over. And every time, they hated and resented me a little more. Finally, I stopped saying yes and they sued me. After I’d given them millions. After I’d opened up to them about…my past. How hard it was to move, over and over again, as a child. I told them things and they were just humoring me. All they wanted was the money.” I stop for a breath. “After my lawyers handed them their asses, I didn’t see them again. They won’t get another dime. Or another piece of me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Chloe says. When she lays a hand on my forearm, I realize she’s standing right in front of me, her eyes shining. “That’s why you built the walls? To keep them out?”

“To keep everyone out,” I rasp. “I’m never going to bare myself like that again. It’s better to hold the power. To keep it close. Untouchable.”

“And lock everyone out in the process,” she adds.

I swallow hard, unable to look her directly in the eye when I say, “Not you.” A beat passes, the clock ticking over the fireplace. “I don’t…want you locked out, Chloe.”

Her fingertips dance over the back of my hand and pressure pushes against the insides of my heart, making my pulse race at a dizzying rate. “Then it’s a good thing I can pick locks.”

A laugh catches me off guard.

How? How does she do that?

Make me laugh right on the heels of revisiting my life’s worst moments?

“No, it’s a great thing,” I say raggedly, dipping my mouth to hers—

The sound of an engine revving to life is heard in the distance.

We pause, breathing hard, our lips a scant inch apart. Almost immediately following that intrusion, the child runs into the room and promptly trips, breaking the spell.

At least the one that almost led to me mauling her in the study in broad daylight.

I’m permanently under Chloe’s spell, however—and Christ, there’s no breaking it.