Chapter 8: Back Alley Confessions
The heat from the sun-warmed brick seeped through the thin cotton of her grey tank top, a sharp contrast to the cool shadow Dex cast over her. His forearm, encased in worn leather, rested beside her head, not touching, but caging her in. His other hand, surprisingly gentle, tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes, which were dark with a simmering intensity that stole her breath.
“You want to play dangerous games with Cole?” he growled, his voice low and textured like gravel under a boot.
His knee pressed firmly between her skirt and thighs, not aggressively, but with a deliberate, undeniable pressure that sent a bolt of startled heat straight to her core. She gasped, her hands finding the cool leather of his jacket, fingers curling into the tough material for balance. Her mind screamed a warning, but her body hummed with a treacherous, answering electricity.
“Then learn the rules first,” he finished, his breath hot against her cheek.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic trapped bird. “What rules?” she managed, her voice a shaky whisper. “The one where you break doors instead of using knobs?”
A flicker of something—amusement, annoyance—crossed his face. “Cole’s not some charming rogue, Jade. He’s a liability.” His knee pressed infinitesimally closer, and a soft, involuntary sound escaped her lips. He heard it. His gaze dropped to her mouth. “He hurts people. Gets them hooked on the thrill until they forget it’s a knife’s edge.”
“And you?” she challenged, anger cutting through the haze of desire. “You just watch from the shadows and then kick the door in? Why do you care if he wants to kiss me?”
His eyes searched hers, the conflict within them warring with a possessive hunger. “Because I know what he does after the kiss,” he said, the words leaving him like a confession dragged from a deep, dark place. “And you don’t walk away from that. Not intact.”
The words hung between them, raw and jagged in the narrow space. Jade felt them scrape against her own reality, the picture of Cole’s easy smile now cracking at the edges.
A tremor ran through her, part fear, part fury, part something else entirely—a heat that pooled low in her belly despite the warning. His knee was still there, a solid, insistent pressure, and her body hummed in answer to his proximity. She hated it. She reveled in it.
“Get off of me, Dex.” The command was a weak thing, breathless and lacking conviction. His dark eyes held hers, seeing right through the defiance to the unwanted thrill beneath.
She shoved against his chest, her palms meeting unyielding leather and muscle. It was like pushing a wall. “I don’t give a fuck about your stupid game.”
He didn’t move, but his head tilted, studying the conflict on her face. The scent of him—engine grease, sun-warmed leather, and something clean and sharp like wintergreen—filled her lungs.
“I’m not getting attached,” she insisted, the words spilling out in a frantic, dismissive rush. “I hardly know either of you.”
A low, humorless sound escaped him. It wasn’t a laugh. “You know enough to let him on your balcony at two a.m.”
The truth of it was a needle prick. She had. She’d wanted the adventure, the shiver of the unknown. Dex represented a different, darker unknown, one that felt less like a game and more like a freefall.
From the mouth of the alley, the cheerful clatter of the bistro felt a world away. She could still hear the faint murmur of Addison’s laughter. That normalcy was a taunt.
His hand, which had been bracing the wall beside her head, came up slowly. He didn’t touch her face. His gloved fingers simply hovered near her jawline, a ghost of contact that made her skin prickle.
“Knowing has nothing to do with it,” he said, his voice dropping to a rasp that vibrated in the quiet between them. “Attachment isn’t a choice. It’s a trap. And he’s the bait.”
He finally moved back, just an inch, removing the pressure of his knee. The sudden space felt colder, leaving her oddly unmoored against the warm brick. Her body protested the loss.
She sucked in a sharp breath, the alley air now tasting of garbage and diesel instead of just him. “And you’re what? The warning label?”
“Yeah.” The word was final. He took another step back, giving her room to flee. His expression had closed off again, the brief vulnerability she’d glimpsed sealed behind a wall of grim resolve. “The one nobody reads.”
Jade pushed herself fully upright, her legs feeling unsteady. She straightened her tank top, a useless, nervous gesture. The need to understand warred with the primal urge to run.
“What did he do?” she asked, the question leaving her before she could stop it.
Dex’s jaw tightened. He looked past her, down the alley’s dim length, as if seeing a ghost there. “He gets in.” He met her eyes again, and the pain there was a live wire. “He gets in, and he takes pieces. Leaves you thinking you gave them away willingly.”
The raw honesty in his voice, the flicker of old pain in his eyes, was more disarming than any physical threat. It painted a picture far more complex than simple rivalry. Jade stared at him, her own anger sputtering against this unexpected vulnerability. The warm brick against her back, the distant clatter of the bistro, it all faded into a dull hum behind the intensity of his gaze.
He was waiting for her to retreat, to take the escape route he’d just provided.
Instead, a reckless heat flared in her chest, burning away the caution. It was the same defiant spark that had let Cole onto her balcony, that now pushed back against Dex’s grim warning. She leaned forward, closing the distance he’d created, her voice dropping to a sharp, challenging whisper.
“Maybe I want to fuck him.” She saw his pupils dilate, a quick, dark swallow of light. She pressed on, hiding her own racing pulse behind a mask of bravado. “What are you gonna do about it, princess?”
The borrowed taunt hung in the air, turning his own word against him. For a long, suspended second, Dex didn’t move. The only sign of impact was a faint twitch in the muscle along his clenched jaw.
Then his hand shot out, faster than she could blink. His fingers didn’t grab her roughly, but wrapped around her wrist with a deliberate, unbreakable firmness. He pulled her hand from his jacket and pressed her palm flat against the faded denim over his heart. The beat beneath was a hard, frantic drum against her skin.
“Feel that?” he said, his voice stripped down to bare gravel. “That’s what he does. He winds you up until you can’t tell the thrill from the terror.” He held her hand there, his own covering it completely. “You think you’re choosing a game. You’re just choosing the weapon.”
Her breath hitched. The frantic rhythm under her palm was a secret he hadn’t meant to tell. It mirrored her own. His other hand came up, not to her face, but to her hair, his fingers tangling gently in her dark curls where they lay against the brick.
He leaned in, his mouth a hair’s breadth from her ear. His scent, leather and wintergreen, enveloped her. “But if it’s a game you want,” he murmured, the words vibrating against her skin, “play with someone who knows how it ends.”
He released her wrist, but his hand remained in her hair, a possessive anchor. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes again, his gaze searching, hungry, and full of a war she didn’t understand. “With me, you’ll at least see the blade coming.”
From the mouth of the alley, the distinct sound of Addison’s loud, champagne-fueled laugh echoed, followed by Liliana’s softer, shushing tone. They were looking for the restroom. They were close.
Dex’s head turned toward the sound, his body instinctively shifting to shield Jade from view. In that momentary distraction, she acted. She pushed against his chest, not to break free, but to twist within the circle of his arms. She brought her face up to his, her eyes blazing.
“You don’t get to dictate my choices,” she breathed, her voice fierce and low. “You don’t get to break my door, follow me, pin me in alleys, and then play the fucking guardian.” Her hand was still trapped against his heart. She curled her fingers into the denim. “If you want to protect me from something, tell me what it really is. Right now.”
He looked down at her, the conflict in his eyes hardening into a decision. The voices of her friends drew nearer.
“It’s not a something,” he said, finally, the words sounding ripped from a deep place. “It’s a someone. And I can’t tell you.”
He released her hair and stepped back fully, the space between them suddenly cold and wide. The sound of Addison’s heels clicked on the pavement just around the corner. Dex’s gaze swept over Jade’s face one last time, a look of raw frustration and something else—regret, maybe.
Then he turned and walked away, his boots making no sound on the grimy alley floor. He vanished into the labyrinth of dumpsters and shadows just as Addison rounded the corner, her eyes wide with searching curiosity.
“There you are!” Addison exclaimed, her gaze darting past Jade to the empty alley. “We thought you got kidnapped by the leather-clad harbinger.” She stepped closer, peering at Jade’s face. “Whoa. You look… thoroughly interrogated. What did he say?”
Jade smoothed her hair, her palm still tingling with the ghost of his heartbeat. She could still smell him on the air. “Nothing,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady. “And everything.”
She linked her arm with Addison’s, steering her back toward the sunlit patio where Liliana waited, a question plain in her observant eyes. Jade didn’t look back at the alley. She carried the echo of his words, the imprint of his heart against her hand, and the chilling, incomplete warning away with her. The game, it seemed, was already in play, and she still didn’t know the rules. Or who had written them.