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I had memorized the words but watching him go made me ache in a new way. I didn’t want him to. I wanted him to come back to bed to touch and hold me. I wanted more of his secrets and to see more of who he was under that leather that covered his chest, and the stone that resided inside it. It felt like he’d cracked his ribs open for me and showed me inside where his heart lay.
I was greedy enough to want my fingers wrapped around that organ. When he breathed, I wanted to feel it. When he hurt, I wanted to soothe it. When he bled, I wanted to as well.
Shit, I was in love with him. I’d never had these feelings for anyone in my life.
And fuck were they dangerous.
Once Killian left, I decided to head back down to the club and tuck away in the office. The lighting in this room was brilliant, so I’d started bringing in plants to hang out on the window sill. I had been using the office, even after being relieved of shredding information, but it didn’t stop me from becoming nosey and trying to see if I could glean any more information about why Killian had taken the job from me.
I looked around, ensuring no one was about to walk in, and I tugged the drawer that held all the off-limit files. It was locked, just as I had suspected, but there were a few loose manila files left on top that caught my attention.
I picked one up, realizing it didn’t have any marks. I tilted it so I could read the label, but that was blank too.
With hesitant fingers, I pulled the rubber band from around the file and pressed my thumb on the inside panel to prop it open.
They were drawings.
Picking one up, I inspected the artwork with a bit of a confused expression.
The drawings were done in reverse, the page completely shaded with graphite, but outlined objects were made with what looked like an eraser. It was so detailed and mesmerizing. My finger followed one of the circles around the page and then chased another line that twisted into what looked like a vine. The entire thing looked like something you’d find in an adult coloring book.
Intricate designs, all in shades of gray.
I flipped to the next page and found a similar drawing. Then another, this one of a motorcycle—still utilizing the same medium of pencil and drawing in objects with the eraser. After flipping through a few more, I finally froze when a familiar looking flower appeared.
It matched Killian’s tattoo.
Were these his drawings?
“There you are!” Red burst into the room without knocking.
I jumped, letting the page slip from my fingers.
Red’s gaze followed the page and then inspected what I was doing.
“He’s been doing those since before I can remember.”
She shut the door behind her and moved over until she was standing next to me. She saw the flower, and I noticed how her brows pinched as she gathered the drawings into her hands.
“This one was rather special, if I remember right.”
Something in my chest tightened. “Why was it special?”
I had stupidly assumed he’d gotten the daisy inked for me…but it was lighter than his other tattoos. Faded as though he’d had it for a long time, so it wasn’t done on my behalf.
Her gaze remained on the art. “I can’t recall. I just remember it had to do with a really difficult time in his life. He started drawing daisies when he was ten…or maybe it was eleven. Started being the only thing he ever drew. It was around the time his mom left, and then his dad was put away.”
Why would a daisy mean so much to him? Seemed like such an odd thing to grow attached to.
“Killian was such a romantic when he was young. Took after his mother in that way. She was always jotting down poems on her wrist and hand, on the back of Jefferson’s cuts too.” Red giggled, getting lost in her memories.
“What happened to his mother?” My voice was soft, terrified it would be something as horrible as what Jefferson did.
Red let out a gentle sigh when she finally stood up and handed me the drawing.
“No one really knows. She was here…and then one day, she was gone. She left Killian a note, but I wouldn’t know what it said. He took it hard, being only nine at the time. He loved his mother, more than anything. Then only a year later, he was abandoned again.”
“Then Simon took him in?” I drew my own conclusions based off what I knew.
