Playing With Fire

Richard hadn’t been back for days. Lena had exhausted herself calling and messaging, but he wasn't reachable. 

It was hard to reconcile the man she thought she knew with the image Jayden had painted. Richard, a woman-beater? The thought was a jagged pill she couldn't swallow, yet Jayden’s warnings rang with a terrifying sincerity.

In Richard's absence, her connection with Jayden was intensifying at a frightening speed. They hadn't given it a name, but his presence was a constant, grounding force. He made sure she ate; he made sure she was safe. 

Returning home one afternoon after getting her hair done, the house felt unusually still. "Jayden?" she called out. Silence.

She climbed the stairs to his room.

She knocked, then waited. Nothing. Slowly, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. The sound of splashing water echoed from the bathroom; he was in the shower.

She turned to slip back out, but his voice stopped her cold.

"Lena? You need something?"

She froze as the bathroom door swung open. Jayden stepped out, clad only in a low towel that clung to his hips. Droplets of water rushing down in the hard, defined ridges of his abs.

Lena’s breath hitched. The steam from the shower seemed to fill the room, wrapping them both in a humid, heavy heat.

"I... I just wanted to see if you were back," she stammered, her eyes betraying her by tracing the path of his waistline. "I’ll wait downstairs."

As she turned to flee, his hand shot out, his fingers warm and firm around her arm. "Wait."

He stepped closer, the scent of his masculine wash filling her senses. "Are you shy, Lena?" he teased, his voice dropping low. 

She looked at the floor, her face flushed crimson. "Jayden, please..."

"We’ve seen each other naked," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "There’s no need to look away now."

Lena’s eyes snapped up in shock, and she instinctively reached out, covering his mouth with her palm to stifle his words. The boldness of him, the way he threw their shared intimacy in her face, sent a jolt through her.

Jayden didn’t pull away. Instead, he smirked against her hand, his eyes darkening with a desire. He pulled her flush against him, his damp skin chilling her through her clothes while the heat of his body burned.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, his hand sliding down to caress her curves, pulling her closer until there was no air left between them. "I’ll bring your dreams to life."

His other hand moved her new hair away from her neck, his touch feather-light. "Your hair suits you. You look so beautiful."

He leaned down, his intention clear. Lena ducked her head at the last second, and his lips landed at the corner of her mouth with a lingering contact.

"Jayden..." she whispered, a plea and a provocation all at once.

"You’re the one who came to me, Lena," he countered. He hooked a finger under her chin, tilting her face up until she had nowhere to hide.

When his lips finally met hers, the kiss was explosive. It wasn't gentle; it was a claim. His hand roamed her body like he was marking his territory before he pinned her against the wall, the cool plaster a sharp contrast to his burning touch. He groaned into her mouth, his knee sliding between her thighs, urging her to wrap herself around him.

Suddenly, her phone shrieked from her pocket.

Lena gasped for air, trying to pull back, but Jayden moved to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that forced a broken moan from her lips.

"Jayden... I have to... it might be important," she panted.

He nipped at her bottom lip, a silent command to stay, but the phone rang again. With a surge of willpower, she pushed him back gently and fumbled for her device.

"Hello?" she said, her voice trembling.

The voice on the other end delivered the news like a physical blow. Lena’s knees buckled; she nearly hit the floor before Jayden’s strong arms caught her.

"What’s wrong?" His voice was sharp with instant concern.

"It’s Richard," she said, her eyes wide with terror. "He’s in the hospital."

"Dad?" Jayden’s face went pale. "What happened?"

"They’re sending the address now."

"Go," Jayden said, his face void of emotions.

"Get in the car. I’ll be dressed in a minute."

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and underlying dread. Lena rushed to the reception desk, her chest heaving. "Richard Blake! Where is he? What happened?"

A nurse stepped in, her tone calm and reassuring.

"Please, ma'am, he's being stabilized. His blood pressure reached a critical level."

"Hypertensive crisis," the doctor explained minutes later as Lena and Jayden stood together in the hallway. "We’ve started an IV drip. We need to know: Has he been under extreme stress? Did he mention headaches?"

Jayden stood frozen, his hand heavy on Lena's shoulder. He knew Richard had been ignoring the silent killer in his veins, and the guilt flickered in his eyes.

Inside the room, the monitors hummed.

"BP is dropping. 170 over 100," the nurse reported.

"Good," the doctor nodded. "He’s responding."

Watching Richard’s chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm, Lena felt a wave of relief. She turned into Jayden’s arms, sobbing into his chest. He held her, patting her back, though his gaze remained fixed on the man in the bed—his father.

Days later, the tension had shifted from the hospital to the house. Richard was home, and Lena was taking care of him.

"You have to eat," she said softly, hovering over him with a bowl of soup. "The doctor said no strenuous activity. You need your strength."

Richard took her hand, his eyes soft with regret. "Lena... I'm sorry. For everything. For how I acted."

She merely nodded, unable to find the words.

By noon, the peace was shattered. Scarlett arrived to check on "the family," but she clung to Jayden like he was a possession, and that made Lena’s blood boil.

While Lena was in the kitchen slicing fruit, Scarlett slipped in behind her. She "accidentally" nudged Lena’s shoulder with her elbow.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there," Scarlett said, her smile not reaching her cold eyes.

Lena ignored her, focusing on the sink. 

"Jayden and I have been friends since we were children," Scarlett purred, leaning against the counter. "The bond we have... it’s unbreakable. He finds it hard to express himself, but I know what we have is the only thing that's real to him."

Lena turned and putted the knife down and faced her. "And what am I supposed to do with that information, Scarlett?"

Scarlett’s expression turned venomous. "I'm saying that you’re already with someone else. Someone who happens to be his father. You should be focusing on your 'him' and staying out of rooms you don't belong in."

Lena felt the air leave her lungs. "Excuse you?" She folded her arms, her pulse racing. "What did you just say?"

"You heard me. I'm being nice by saying it this way. I’ve seen the way you look at him, Lena. It’s pathetic. You’re playing a dangerous game trying to destroy a family that took you in. My advice? Know your place."

"You are a psycho," Lena hissed, her voice trembling with rage. She shoved past Scarlett, almost knocking her over.

That night, the house was cold, but Lena’s mind was a storm. How did Scarlett know? Jayden would never tell her. Was she that transparent?

She retreated to the balcony, needing the night breeze to cool her burning skin.

She hadn't been there five minutes when the sliding door creaked. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"Did Scarlett say something to you?" he said, his voice low.

"What do you think?," I snapped, staring out at the horizon. "She has a lot of nerve, Jayden. Coming into this house to throw insults at me."

He stepped up beside me, leaning his elbows on the railing. The moonlight cast a long shadow across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw. "Scarlett is... complicated. She’s been around a long time. She thinks she's protecting me."

"Protecting you from what?" I turned to face him, my heart hammering. "From me?"

Jayden didn’t answer right away. He reached out, his thumb grazing the spot on my arm.

"She’s like a sister to me, Lena. She won't harm you; she's just jealous, that's all."

"Is that what you think, Jayden?" I whispered, the fear finally leaking into my voice. " She hinted at... everything. About us. About Richard. 

Jayden’s eyes darkened, a flash of something fierce and protective crossing his features. He moved closer, trapping me between his body and the railing, much like he had in the bathroom.

"You're overthinking things," he said, his face inches from mine. "But trust me, I’ll handle Scarlett."

"How can you be so sure?"

He leaned in, his lips hovering just above mine.

"Because I have known her for the longest, she’s just being insecure. 

He didn't kiss me then.

But the way he looked at me was a confession in itself. He stayed there for a moment longer, our breaths mingling in the twilight, before he straightened up and walked away, leaving me shivering in the heat.

She stood there long after he left, the weight of Scarlett’s words hanging over me.

 You are playing with fire.

She was right. She was. But as she looked back toward the hallway where Jayden had disappeared, she realized she didn't want to be saved from the flames. She wanted to burn.