Chapter 11

She wasn't sure if Kieran would hand her back to Zachary.

She'd just smashed Zachary's head with an ashtray, and if he got his hands on her again, she didn't even dare to imagine what would happen.

Zachary was infamous in Westhaven for always getting even.

The dress she had on was already torn to shreds by him, half her bare shoulder and collarbone exposed. She landed heavily on Kieran's lap, arms wrapped around the back of his neck, kissing him with all she had.

Kieran grabbed her wrists, trying to push her away.

"Please... don't leave me..."

Her whisper trembled, barely audible.

Tears rolled down her cheek, landing on Kieran's lips - they tasted salty.

Heather had been pushed this far. Logically, he should've felt a sense of revenge.

But instead, that taste of tears hit him hard in the chest.

"Knock knock knock!"

Someone was banging on the window.

Noah frowned. "You've got guts knocking on Mr. Foster's car like that."

"Sorry, Mr. Kane! I saw Miss Yates get into the car. She just hit Mr. Harper over the head - he's furious. We've been ordered to bring her back immediately."

Noah leaned out the window and gave them a casual glance. "Oh? Pretty sure I saw Heather running off in that direction. Better go chase her down."

The bodyguard froze. This was a bold-faced lie and yet Noah sounded completely convincing.

"But Mr. Kane, I clearly saw - "

"Mr. Foster's on a schedule. Step aside unless you're itching to get run over."

With that, Noah rolled up the window without so much as a backward glance.

Heather was in the backseat, clutching tightly onto Kieran's shirt, her knuckles bone-white. Her pale skin stood out starkly against his black shirt.

He was pinned beneath her on the backseat. She was above, he was below.

In the tight, enclosed car, their breaths mixed, the air thick with tension. Her tearful, watery eyes stared at him, not making a single sound.

Her look screamed for help, fingers trembling as they held onto his shirt.

She didn't even exhale until Noah managed to get rid of Zachary's men.

Finally, she let out a careful breath of relief.

Suddenly, Kieran shoved her down hard onto the leather seat.

Now, she was underneath, and he was on top.

His tall frame loomed over her, eyes sharp and cold. "Using me to escape Zachary? Heather, do you even know what it costs to use me?"

This version of Kieran - all danger and ice - was completely foreign to her.

She tried to scoot away out of instinct, but there was nowhere to go in the cramped backseat.

He leaned in closer.

His impossibly handsome face was right in front of hers...

Heather was still burning from the drug, breathing heavily. Her chest rose and fell fast. That already-ruined dress was now just barely hanging on after all the chaos.

The car's lighting was dim; outside, the streetlights cast a flickering glow through the window - soft and scattered like whispers.

Two figures, one light, one dark, were practically tangled into one.

Everywhere you looked, it was skin on skin.

A scene too charged to look away.

Her hands pressed against his chest, eyes red-rimmed as she clung to what little self-control she had left. "Kieran, not here... please."

Even if it had to happen, anywhere but here.

Noah was still driving in the front - she wasn't about to throw away the last shred of her dignity like this.

But Kieran just laughed - cold, almost cruel.

His long fingers pinched her chin. He leaned down, brushing her ear with his lips, voice sickeningly soft but laced with venom. "Hea, weren't you the one who came to me? Why act innocent now?"