Chapter 3

Dawn’s Point of View

“Let go of me, Killian.”

He does not let go.

I try to yank my arm free, but he pulls me closer instead, and I am forced to tilt my head back just to look at him.

“Please, Kill. I didn’t...” I start, but he presses a single finger to my lips, and my heart does something it has no business doing.

“I’m sorry, okay? I just need to...” my voice cracks. He leans in until I can feel the warmth of his breath against my ear.

“I told you I would take him away from you.” He pauses, letting it sink in. “Look at you. No one left.”

I close my eyes. My chest pulls tight like something is collapsing inside it. Did he do this?

I make the mistake of lifting my head to look at him properly, and my lips accidentally brush against his.

I go completely still, even as a chill goes down my spine.

He is going to kill me.

He closes his eyes. Draws in a slow breath. When he opens them again, his pupils have gone wide and dark.

“Do that again,” he says.

I open my mouth to say something, anything, my eyes moving helplessly across his face. He cannot mean that. He does not mean that.

I am about to pull away when he swipes his tongue slowly across my lips.

“Fuck.” His voice drops to almost nothing. “You taste good.”

His eyes are half-closed, and I am just standing here, pulse hammering so hard I am genuinely convinced something is wrong with me. I need a doctor.

“How about a deal?” he says, opening his eyes fully, watching me.

“Let me go.”

 I need space. I need air.

 I want nothing to do with any arrangement Killian Larsen has ever thought up. The last time I agreed to something with him, it created this war between us that never ended.

“No.”

“You didn’t even hear it. You might actually like it,” he says with a smirk, his eyes roaming over my face.

“No, thank you.”

I move to leave, realizing he let go of my hand, but instead, he pins me against the car.

“You love him, don’t you?” he asks.

I stare at him, blinking back my tears.

He leans forward, and I press back. “How about this, Dawn? I help you get him back, and you do something for me in return.”

I swallow.

This is Killian Larsen. A person built entirely of dark edges and worse intentions. Making a deal with him is not like handing your soul over and watching him ruin it.

“No, thank you. Let me go.” I shove him.

He looks amused, but he doesn’t budge. I feel like a rat being cornered by a cat.

“How about this instead?” He tilts his head. “I fulfill my brother’s promise. And all I ask is that you help me with something.”

Everything stops; he didn’t just say that.

“Damian’s promise?” My voice comes out unsteady. “How do you even know about that?”

“Come on. Everyone knows about your little arrangement.” He lets that sit for a moment. “So how about I take you up on that offer, and in return, you help me out?”

“Help you out,” I repeat slowly, studying him. It is deeply unlike Killian to ask anyone for anything. Something underneath all of this is not right. But also, how did everyone know about my arrangement with Damian? I told him years ago, and it was just the two of us.

“No.” I straighten. “I want nothing to do with you or your brother. I have had more than enough of the Larsen family.” One broke my heart. The other one broke my arm.

“Dawn...”

“Kill?” Sabrina’s voice floats over from somewhere behind him.

He curses quietly, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your bunny is calling,” I say, and I use the half-second of distraction to slip into my car and pull the door shut before he can stop me.

I need to get drunk and forget that this night ever happened. They say alcohol numbs the pain, and right now I am willing to test that theory.

 I head to the only bar that does not look too closely at my fake ID.

The bartender gives me a warm smile when I walk in. I climb onto a barstool, and she comes over, wiping down the counter.

“What can I get for you, sweetie?”

I do not even know what to get. I think of Damian reaching for whiskey every time something went wrong, and I tell her that.

She sets the glass in front of me. I try to take it the way I have watched Damian do it, all at once, no hesitation.

It burns like I swallowed fire. I choke and set it back down immediately.

This was a terrible idea. I can take cocktails that taste like juice and smoke, but nothing this strong.

“If you’re going to drink...” Killian says, dropping into the seat beside me.

I whip around. How is he here already? He nods to the bartender, who brings him a Bud Light like they have done this a hundred times.

“Make sure it’s not a bar full of men,” he continues, without even looking at me.

I ignore him. I slide a twenty-dollar bill under my glass and stand. I need to leave before he makes this worse.

Dealing with a broken heart is already more than I can handle. Killian on top of it is unbearable. He does not know how to let people breathe.

“Dawn.” His hand closes around my wrist, and something about the way he says my name roots me to the spot.

I hate that it does, and my stupid heart the way it races.

“He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Let go of me, Kill.”

“Did you ever stop to think,” he says, his voice quieter now, “that he knew?”

I go still.

“Why do you think he called you to that party just hours before your birthday?” he asks. “He has known for years that you love him. Known, and still chose her. So, I have to ask.” He tilts his head. “Aren’t you done being pathetic?”

“Let me go.” My voice comes out through my teeth.

He moves closer instead, and his hand lifts slowly towards my face.

“Tell me what you actually want, Dawn. Not the part where you tell me to leave you alone. The real thing.” His voice is low, barely above a whisper, and my pulse spikes in a way I refuse to admit.

I know what he is doing. I know Killian, and this is what he does. He finds the soft place, and he presses.

“Let me go,” I say again.

“I can give you what you want.”

“What is wrong with you?” The words come out sharp and tired all at once. “Leave me alone. Was what your brother did enough for one night? We are not friends. We have never been friends. You got exactly what you wanted, so please, just leave me alone.”

He is quiet for a moment, taking in my face, and then his eyes linger on my lips.

“That is the problem, Dawn.” His grip on my waist tightens, just slightly. “I have no intention of letting you go.” He holds my gaze. “He took you from me. And now I am taking you back.”

I blink.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He does not answer. His thumb traces a slow line along my waist instead.

“I want to taste your lips again,” he says quietly, letting go of my hand, “But I can wait.”

I stare at him, eyes searching his face for the joke or the cruelty hidden underneath. Killian Larsen hates me. He has made that abundantly clear. He should not be here, saying things like this, looking at me like that.

I swallow hard. He cannot be serious.

“We are done here,” I grab my bag and am ready to leave.

“Dawn…” he shouts, and I pause, turning to him.

“Run for now. Because the next time I find you, I’m taking what’s mine,” he says as his eyes rake over my body.

“Fuck you,” I say and turn to leave. I hear him say soon but I ignore him. I’m done with the Larsen brothers.