Chapter: 4
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Asher's eyes narrowed, his mind replaying the events of the previous night causing a blush to creep up his cheeks, for a moment he wanted to ask if Kaidën was alright, you know, down there, but instead... "What do you want?" he demanded, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the turmoil brewing inside.
Kaidën's smile was infuriating as if he found Asher's irritation amusing. He dipped his hand into his pocket and produced a worn, brown wallet. Asher's eyes widened as he realized it was his own. He didn't even know he lost it. He had simply dipped his hand into his pants pocket and paid the cab fare as always, and not once did it occur to him that he had lost his precious wallet which carried the only picture of his sister he had.
He reached out to take it, but Kaidën's hand closed around it, holding it just out of Asher's grasp. Asher felt a surge of frustration and lunged forward, but Kaidën was too quick. He pulled his hand back, and Asher stumbled forward, his chest colliding with Kaidën's. Asher's face burned as he quickly regained his balance and glanced around, mortified, to see if anyone had witnessed the awkward exchange.
Kaidën's eyes sparkled with amusement, and his voice dropped to a low, husky tone. "I only came to return your wallet, but I wouldn't mind a repeat performance of last night...right here, right now."
Asher's heart skipped a beat as Kaidën's words sent a shiver down his spine. 'And here I am almost feeling sorry for you' He bit the inside of his cheek, struggling to maintain his composure in the face of Kaidën's provocative suggestion. What is with this man and aggravating him like this? Asher hated these feelings. All his life he has managed to control his emotions, to make sure he never once went out of the line he had drawn for himself these past years, but now, with this stranger, Asher feared he was starting to lose himself.
Kaidën's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled, his gaze roaming over Asher's face. "You're so adorable when you're flustered, detective."
Asher's face burned hotter, his heart racing with a mix of anger and arousal. "Cut it out, Kaidën."
But Kaidën just chuckled, his voice low and husky. "I'm just getting started." He reached out, his fingers brushing against Asher's cheek, and try as he may, Asher felt powerless against him, it was infuriating. Kaidën's fingers light as feather caressed his burning cheeks and Asher's eyes snapped shut, his breath catching in his throat. He tried to step back, but Kaidën's hand followed him, caressing his skin with a gentle touch, Asher almost moaned.
Almost.
"You're so responsive," Kaidën whispered, his breath tickling Asher's ear. "I wonder what other reactions I could get out of you." Asher's eyes finally snapped open, his gaze locked onto Kaidën's. He tried to push Kaidën's hand away, but the man's fingers found his wrist and tightened around it.
"Let go," Asher growled, trying to keep his voice low, he was breaking apart bit by bit. 'How does he know to do this to me?' He wondered. It's like the man knows him better than he ever thought he knew himself and he was picking him apart slowly.
Kaidën's smile remained etched on his face, a maddening glint in his eye. "Not until you admit you're interested," he teased, his grip on Asher's wrist refusing to relent.
Asher's cheeks flamed with embarrassment as he attempted to feign indifference. "I'm not interested," he lied, his voice flat and unconvincing.
Kaidën's eyes danced with mirth, his gaze piercing as he challenged Asher's denial. "Oh, really? Then why is your body betraying you?... Look at you, Asher, you're trembling." He taunted, his voice low and husky, as he nodded toward Asher's trembling hand. The subtle movement was a stark contradiction to Asher's claims of disinterest, and Kaidën's knowing smile only served to deepen Asher's flush.
Asher's gaze dropped to his hands, and he realized with a start that Kaidën was right. He was trembling. With a herculean effort, Asher regained control of his emotions, his face cooling to a mask of calmness. "I'm not trembling because of you," he lied, he had always been such a terrible liar.
Kaidën's laughter was a low, velvety purr that sent a shiver down Asher's spine. "You're an open book, sweetheart, so easy to read." He teased, his eyes glinting with amusement.
Asher's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in a fierce effort to resist Kaidën's disarming charm. "I'm not easy to read," Asher protested like a child, his voice firm, but his eyes betraying a flicker of uncertainty.
Kaidën's smile never wavered, his gaze locked onto Asher's with an unnerving intensity. "Really? Then why are you still standing here, engaging in this delightful conversation with me?"
Asher's gaze flashed with anger, his eyes blazing with a fierce inner light. "I'm standing here because you're still holding my wallet," he spat, his voice tight with frustration. But beneath the surface, Asher was seething with self-directed anger. What was wrong with him? Why was he allowing this enigmatic stranger to get under his skin?
Kaidën's laughter was a subtle yet potent blow, wrapped in velvet and delivered with precision. "Sweetheart, you're so focused on the wrong things," he said, his voice low and husky. With a dramatic flourish, Kaidën handed Asher his wallet, the movement a blend of elegance and mockery. "Keep it. I don't need it anymore."
Asher's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with suspicion. "What do you want, Kaidën?" he asked his tone firm and commanding. "You didn't come all the way here just to return my wallet." Kaidën's smile was a masterpiece of seduction, captivating Asher despite his better judgment.
"I want you, detective," Kaidën said, his voice dripping with confidence. "And I always get what I want." The words hung in the air, a challenge and a promise. Asher's heart skipped a beat as he felt the weight of Kaidën's gaze.
"You're not going to get me," Asher spat, his irritation boiling over. "I'm not some possession you can acquire and claim as your own." His words were a desperate attempt to assert his dominance, to resist the subtle yet potent pull of Kaidën's charm.
Kaidën's laughter was a sly promise, a whispered mockery that left Asher's skin prickling. "We'll see about that, detective," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. With a fluid motion, Kaidën turned to slide into his car, but he paused, his gaze snapping back to Asher's like a magnet.
"I found a photo in your wallet," he said, his voice low and smooth as honey. "You wrote 'Emily' on the back. Is she your sister?" The question hung in the air, a subtle probing of Asher's deepest wounds.
Asher's patience snapped, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "Mind your own business," he snarled, his eyes blazing with anger. Kaidën's smile was a subtle challenge of secrets uncovered.
"But I am, detective. Since you are my business," he replied, his voice calm and collected, a stark contrast to Asher's seething rage.
Asher's anger flared, his tone biting and venomous. "Freak." Kaidën's laughter was a low, husky sound that sent a shiver coursing down Asher's spine.
"Says the man who fell into my bed with such... enthusiasm," he said, a wink accompanying his words. Asher's face burned with embarrassment and anger, his eyes darting around to ensure they were still alone.
With a fierce whisper, Asher leaned in, his voice barely audible. "I was drunk." The words hung in the air, a desperate attempt to reclaim his dignity, to erase the memories of last night.
Kaidën's eyes sparkled with mirth, his gaze piercing as he regarded Asher with an air of amusement. "Is that the story we're sticking to, detective?" His tone was laced with skepticism, a subtle challenge that dared Asher to defend his fragile pride.
Asher's expression darkened, his jaw clenched in a fierce scowl. "Fuck you, Kaidën," he growled, spinning on his heel to make a swift exit. But Kaidën's laughter halted him in his tracks, a cold, mirthless sound that sent a shiver coursing down Asher's spine.
For a fleeting moment, Asher's footing faltered, his legs trembling beneath him. Kaidën's parting words were a sly taunt, laced with amusement and a hint of intimacy. "You already did, detective." The words hung in the air, a provoking reminder of the night they shared, and the secrets that still lingered between them.
The sound of Kaidën's car engine roaring to life broke the spell, and Asher turned to watch as the sleek vehicle pulled away from the curb. His gaze lingered on the receding taillights before he reached into his wallet and extracted a worn photograph.
The picture showed his sister, Emily, smiling back at him. Her bright eyes and innocent face were a painful reminder of the past. It had been ten years since she vanished, leaving behind nothing but memories and a deep sense of loss. Asher tightened his grip on the photo, feeling a heavy weight in his heart that he couldn't shake off. Asher's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night, the memories burned into his mind like a scar. He was fourteen, and Emily was just ten. Their father had been acting strange all day, his usual anger simmering just beneath the surface.
As night fell, Asher tried to protect Emily from their father's rage by ushering her into their room. He hid her in the cupboard, a routine he'd learned to follow whenever things got tense at home. But when he went back to the living room, he was met with a sight that made him freeze. His father was talking to two men in black suits, their faces blank and serious.
Asher felt a strong urge to get Emily and run away. But he didn't listen to that instinct. Now, he regretted it more than anything. Instead of grabbing Emily and escaping, he tried to eavesdrop on the conversation. The men's voices were low, and he couldn't make out what they were saying. His heart raced as he turned to rush back to the room and get Emily. But it was too late. His mother stepped out of the bedroom, holding Emily tightly. Asher's father took Emily from her arms with a cold, calculating look in his eyes.
The two men in suits moved closer, reaching out their hands. Asher tried to fight back, desperate to stop them from taking Emily. But he was no match for the men. When his father saw that Asher wouldn't let go, he hit him with something hard, and everything went dark. When he woke up, he was tied to the bedpost, his head pounding with pain. The room was empty—his parents and the men in black suits were gone.
And so was Emily.
Asher snapped back to the present, the memories still burning in his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. That night had changed everything for him; it was the night he lost his sister.
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