The house was never truly silent at night, but tonight the quiet felt heavier than usual. I lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the thin wall between my room and Caleb’s doing nothing to dull the memory of his hands on me in the kitchen earlier. My ribs still throbbed with every breath, the deep bruises a constant, aching reminder of Kane’s promise. But the real restlessness came from the man sleeping inches away — the way he had touched me like I was something precious and dangerous at the same time.
Thirst finally drove me out of bed just after 3 a.m. I slipped on my silk sleep shorts and thin tank top, not bothering with a robe. The house was cool, the wooden floors cold beneath my bare feet as I crept downstairs. The kitchen light was already on — a single warm glow spillin
