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There’s no simpler way to put it: Kohen is a dick. A massive dick (he’s got a big one too—not the point). He gets handsy, and says stuff that makes you want to knock his teeth out. But then he’ll do debatably cute things, so we’ll bat our eyelashes and call him misunderstood. #icanfixhim
To the girl who wants a man to treat her gently, burn the world for her, and fuck her like a whore. This pyromaniac is exceptional at multitasking.
This time, I’m sure she’s going to smile at me. And then once I know how to make her smile, I’ll make her do it over and over until she’s sick of me. She’d better not smile at anyone else but me.
It’s where Blaze had so excitedly agreed to be the worst tour guide known to mankind—the kleptomaniac couldn’t even figure out how to exit the building when the door was right in front of us. She’s going places; far just isn’t one of them.
Elijah’s two brain cells clearly are too busy fighting for first place to work, because he steps towards us and reaches for Blaze. “There are twenty-seven bones in the human hand. Breathe in her direction again, and we’ll find out whether I can break them one at a time.”
“I’ve always wanted to see what a real human heart feels like in my hands. Keep talking, and I’ll get to find out.”
“Don’t use anything for two months, and my entire trust fund is yours.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, Blaze. You’re looking at me like you hate me, but you’re riding me like you love me.”
“I’d be careful if I were you. I’m this close to fucking you into the wall.” He palms my ass. “Think I could fuck the brat out of you then, Thief?”
“Only I get to make you come. Only I get to feel your thighs around me. You burn for me. Only me.”
Then she touched me—well, she slapped me. But she chose to put her hand on me. Me. And god it makes me giddy to think she willingly put her hand on me. She chose to slap me.
My grandfather used to tell me to take beatdowns like a man and know when to punch back. He was as ruthless as my father because he didn’t care about respect or hierarchy. The only difference was my grandfather had a code of ethics on who to hit, when the strike comes, and how hard it’ll strike.
me she does too. But she’s never needed to suffer through everything alone. I would have done anything for her if she just asked—if she stopped pushing me away for one damn minute, she’d know that. But no, she goes around touching other men and framing me for an explosion I’m embarrassed to have associated with my name.
“The man you’ve never wanted, but the one who has, and will always take the fall for you.”
“What happened to rest, ice, compression, and elevation?” I pant out the acronym for R.I.C.E, not sure he can understand the words I’m saying. “That’s why your legs are on my shoulders and not shaking against the bed.”
But more importantly—and I cannot stress this one enough—“You put him in the hospital!” He has the audacity to look disappointed. “I was aiming for the morgue.”
“At the beginning, middle, and end, you’re the only one I’ll ever want. You’re mine, Blaze.”
“You’re my special little whore, aren’t you?” My. Special. Little whore? He’s really pulling out all the stops today. I like it more than I should.
“They hurt you, didn’t they?” I hesitate for a second, then nod, pursing my lips. Hurting implies they have power over me. Denying it won’t change that fact. “I told you bad things happen to people who touch what isn’t theirs. Let’s make it to the morgue this time, shall we, Thief?”
“Only if you’re my date,” I point out. “Yeah. That’s going to be a hard no from me.” Her lips twist into a coy smirk as she attempts to saunter toward me, but it comes across as an awkward limp instead. Still, ten out of ten. It worked. I’m hard. “A girl like me is in hot demand.” My dick deflates. “If you walk in there with anyone but me, their family won’t have a say on whether they get cremated or buried.”
“Do you do this often?” Kohen halts and angles his head to give me a perplexed look. “Shut up, Blaze.” I make the motion of zipping my lips shut, and he starts walking again. “But seriously, do you?” He sighs. “Okay, Mr. Drama.” I roll my eyes. “Chill out. It’s a genuine question. I’m just trying to figure out whether I’m murdering someone with an amateur or a pro.” “No, Blaze. I do not commit homicide often,” he says, exasperated.
“One or the other, Klepto,” he says with an air of finality. “Behave or be punished.” I consider my options for a moment. “Both.” I nod. “I pick both.”
“I recommend the knees, but the face works too.” When the fuck did he have time to organize this? I gape at him as he ushers me behind him and takes the lead. He sent two guys to the hospital for me? Blew up a building as a birthday present? Now he’s helping me murder a man and making me my very own weapon to do it? And here I was, thinking that chivalry was dead.
“What if…” Her eyes search the space between us. “What if my grandfather wins?” “Then we’ll both go down together.” Her eyes flash at my declaration. “Maybe I haven’t made it clear to you; I will hunt you down to the end of the earth just so you don’t feel alone for a second. I will find you, even in another lifetime. If you’re in hell, then I’ll burn willingly. My soul is yours, Thief.”
Kohen prepared me for this exact scenario. He sat me down one night while we were still at school and walked me through everything I needed to do if either of us were ever shot. I refused to listen to it at the time or comprehend why he insisted we carry a first aid kit on us. Now I realize it’s because he was always willing to die for me. It’s why he made me learn how to fight. How to point a gun, shoot, and throw my fists to cause a knockout blow. After all this time, it’s because he thought he might not be here to see it through. He wanted me to be prepared in case he had to leave. But he
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Her sterling-blue eyes find mine, burning just as brightly as the day I decided I wanted her. She may not have started my fascination with flames, but she was the first fire I fell for, and she’ll be the last one I ever want to see.
“You know you’re meant to ask, right?” “It wasn’t a question.” A smug grin pulls at my mouth. “What if I want to say no?” Reaching into my pocket, I grab the industrial-strength super glue I needed for the bomb. “I wouldn’t recommend that.” Her jaw drops, and she snatches the glue from my hand. “You can’t just ‘no takesies backsies’ a marriage proposal.” “It wasn’t a proposal either. Because that implies there’s an answer to be given.”
Chuckling against her hair, I stare out at the evidence of my family’s downfall and hold on to the girl who’s always worn her emotions on her sleeve, and showed me how to fight even when I kept getting pushed aside. I hold on to the first person who ever chose me. I was never scared about falling in love with her. I was always angry because I thought I’d only get to do it once. But every day, I fall again. Every day, I fall a little harder.
To all the Kyle’s in the world, I’m sure you don’t all punch walls and drink Monsters.
Firstly, thank you to Hozier for coming up with this banger: “All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons But always keep them on a leash”
