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Apprehending Kai
Last Updated:
2025-12-04 23:10:51
Latest chapter
A Kiss For Every Bruise Teaching the Body to Know
Adrian’s POV Miguel left the room quietly. He always did that when he had said something that landed too close to bone. As if noise afterward would bruise it further. The door closed with a soft click, and the house returned to its familiar hush. Somewhere down the hall, Kayla laughed at something the housekeeper said, the sound light and unguarded, still unfamiliar enough that it startled me every time I heard it. I remained where I was, seated at the edge of the couch, my hands resting on my knees. Bare hands. That alone told me how much had shifted and how much had not. I replayed the conversation with Miguel whether I wanted to or not. Not the words themselves, but the moments between them. The pauses where I had swallowed. The places where my chest had tightened. The instinctive recoil I had not voiced but had not fully hidden either. Miguel had not pushed. He never did. He had simply said, “Your body doesn’t know yet what your mind has decided.” That sentence stayed with me
A Kiss For Every Bruise Things Men Don’t Admit
Adrian’s POV The house was quiet in a way that didn’t feel brittle anymore. Kayla had fallen asleep on the couch after coloring herself into exhaustion, her small body curled around a pillow like she expected it to disappear if she let go. I had carried her to bed myself, slow and careful, counting each breath the way Miguel had taught me. When I came back downstairs, the lights were dimmed, the world reduced to soft shadows and the muted city glow beyond the windows. Miguel was in the armchair opposite mine, legs crossed, a glass of water balanced precisely on the coaster. I still wore transparent gloves. I always did, even when indoors. Even with my family and close buddies. Those who did not know me thought it was eccentricity, but those close to me knew better. I have always struggled with a serious case of germaphobia. “She’s getting better,” I said quietly, staring at the darkened hallway that led to Kayla’s room. Miguel nodded. “She is. And so are you.” That should have
A Kiss For Every Bruise When Fatherhood Civilize Monsters
Alejandro Miguel did not speak right away. He rarely did when the silence mattered. We were seated on the terrace just beyond the playroom, the late afternoon light slanting low across the stone. Kayla’s laughter drifted faintly through the open doors, soft, unguarded, the sound of a child who had forgotten to be afraid for at least a moment. Miguel sat with his legs crossed, gloves on as always, fingers loosely folded over his knee. He watched the horizon, not me.I broke first. “I thought loving her would be enough,” I said quietly. “I really did.” Miguel’s head tilted slightly, an invitation, not a push.“I told myself that if Gwen knew she was safe now, if she knew Mason couldn’t touch her again, that it would… overwrite the rest.” I let out a breath that felt heavier than it should have. “That it would be simple.”Miguel exhaled through his nose. Not amusement. Recognition. “Nothing that follows prolonged trauma is simple,” he said. “Especially not love.”I nodded once. My jaw
A Kiss For Every Bruise Justice Before Healing Is Just Another Violation
Adrian’s POVKayla fell asleep with her fist wrapped around my thumb. She had done that more often lately, reaching for me without looking, as if she trusted I would still be there when her eyes closed. Miguel called it object permanence rebuilding. I called it the most terrifying privilege of my life.I sat beside her bed long after her breathing evened out, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, the faint crease between her brows that only appeared when she dreamed. Some nights she still whimpered. Some nights she slept like nothing had ever touched her. Tonight, she slept deep.I eased my hand free carefully, like disarming a bomb, and stepped into the hallway. Miguel was waiting near the window, arms folded, gaze fixed on the dark stretch of ocean beyond the estate. He didn’t turn when I approached. “She held your hand,” he said. “Yeah.” I smiled. “That’s new.” “So is a lot of this.”He finally looked at me then. Really looked. Not the Salvador heir. Not the strategist. Ju
A Kiss For Every Bruise The Space Between Watching and Waiting
Adrian’s POV I learned something uncomfortable that week. Holding the line with Kayla, staying calm, consistent, kind, was easier than holding the line with myself. Because every instinct I had still screamed toward Gwen. I woke up every morning with the same reflexive thought: Has she broken yet? And the shame followed immediately after, because Gwen breaking was the last thing I wanted, and the first thing Camilla was trying to engineer. Miguel noticed before I said anything. “You’re hovering again,” he said one night, dropping into the chair across from me with a beer I hadn’t asked for but accepted anyway. “I’m monitoring,” I corrected. He snorted. “You have six eyes on Cruise territory, two financial trackers on Dicarpo movements, and a shadow on Dr. Weston’s clinic. That’s not monitoring. That’s pacing in tactical form.” I didn’t deny it. The screen in front of me showed a still image from the salon Gwen had been taken to earlier that day. She sat in a chair, a cape draped
A Kiss For Every Bruise Still Standing After
Adrian’s POV That night, after Kayla finally fell asleep, I sat on the floor outside her room longer than necessary. Miguel had told me not to hover. Be present, not looming, he’d said. But old instincts died hard. I listened to the soft rhythm of her breathing through the cracked door, the occasional hitch that came before sleep deepened again. She clutched the corner of her blanket like it might disappear if she let go. I stayed anyway. Because the quiet after a breakthrough was when fear crept back in. Not hers. Mine. I kept replaying the morning in my head, the toast, the drop, the way her body had gone rigid as if bracing for impact. That kind of readiness didn’t come from one bad day. It came from repetition. From patterns carved deep enough to feel inevitable. And I hated Mason Burkeley with a cold, precise fury that scared me in its calm. Miguel joined me eventually, lowering himself onto the floor beside me without a word. We sat shoulder to shoulder, backs against the w
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