Reckless (The Powerless Trilogy Book 2)
Chapter 33

“You brought your own, eh?”

I tear my eyes from the two men crowding the doorway to blink at the one beside us. The woman on his lap wears a feathered hat that sits precariously atop her head, likely knocked around by the handsy man she’s perched on.

His comment has my cheeks heating. I despise this place. And I despise having to act like nothing more than a pretty toy.

Kai’s hand tightens on my hip.

Don’t be rash. We are being watched.

That is what I hear in his hold, in the way he pulls me back possessively on his lap. His silent order has me relaxing against his chest while peeking under the brim of my own absurd hat at the two men now perusing the room. They look innocent enough, as though deciding what table they wish to gamble at. But their eyes are searching, studying each person in their path.

“She’s my good luck charm,” Kai says simply, earning a few chuckles from the table. He’s wrapped his arm fully around my waist, leaning in to rest his chin on my bare shoulder. With his bandanna pulled from his face in the dim light, the stubble across his jaw tickles my skin, making me shiver.

“What do you think, darling?” he asks against my ear, holding the cards in front of me. He says this loud enough for the table to hear, as though this a regular routine for the two of us.

“Hmm.” I lean my head against his, feeling his breath on my cheek. Then I’m reaching up to tap a card. “This one.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, placing the card onto the table.

The game continues, though I’m paying no attention, with the way his fingers are splayed across my stomach. I glance up at the men looking for us, replaceing them slowly making their way to our table. I know Kai notices too when he ducks his face close to mine to hide subtly beneath my hat.

I can’t help but stiffen with every step our pursuers take. I’m ready to hop from Kai’s lap and run if it comes to that. My fingers fidget with the skirt currently draped over the chain at my ankle, bunching the fabric in my sweaty palms.

A firm hand runs down the length of my side, earning my undivided attention. “Relax, Gray,” he breathes against my ear. His palm travels down my hip to the leg below, gripping me beneath the knee to pull me impossibly closer. “Pretend, remember?” His voice is a caress, mimicking the hand now running over my thigh.

Right. Pretend.

That is all anything is between us. Every touch, every look, every genuine moment.

Pretend.

I shift, turning sideways to fling my legs over his lap.

Pretend.

My hand replaces the back of his neck, fingers combing through his hair.

Pretend.

Nothing means anything with him. And that’s what I keep telling myself.

His focus is fixed on me and far from the game at hand. “Am I distracting you?” I ask sweetly.

“When are you not?”

“Hmm. Your heart is pounding, Prince,” I whisper against his ear at the feel of it thundering beneath his chest.

“It’s a close game,” he murmurs. “And I’m not accustomed to losing.”

I scoff softly. “No, you’re used to that pretty face and title of yours getting you everything you want.”

He pulls back enough to look me in the eyes, allowing me to glimpse the emotion peeking through the cracks in his mask. His gray gaze travels over my face, taking in every disheveled inch of me. “Not everything.”

I blink. He stares at me until a man signals him to take his turn. It’s only when I look to see the card he’s played that I glimpse the two men walking toward our table. Kai’s chin replaces my shoulder again to conceal his face beneath the hat’s brim. His hand brushes up and down my hip, helping to keep me relaxed against his chest.

Pretend.

That’s what I do when the men stop to stand beside the table. I play with Kai’s hair, wrapping my arms around his neck.

Pretend.

My free hand is running fingers over his unshaven jaw before replaceing their way down his neck.

Pretend.

I’m pretending to ignore the fact that the men are now looking right at me, watching the show I’m performing for them. I can feel their eyes trailing over us and the faces that are partially hidden. When I’m certain I should be jumping to my feet and running, they grow tired of us and turn to watch another table.

I exhale, tipping my forehead against Kai’s cheek. “They’re gone.”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. “Good work, Gray.”

I sit up slightly at his tone, at the reminder that this was all strictly to blend in. “Have you almost lost yet?” I say stiffly.

He’s distracted. “Your faith in me is inspiring.”

“Can you hurry this up?” I say quietly.

He places a card onto the table. “What, you have somewhere better to be?”

“Yes,” I say dryly. “Not on your lap.”

He ducks his head, chuckling against my neck. “Is that so?” I shiver when his hand slowly encircles my waist again, calloused fingers brushing the bare skin where my shirt is riding up.

I nod slowly. “I’m bored.”

His lips graze my jaw. “No, you’re not.”

I fight the urge to turn and face him fully. “And what makes you think I’m not?”

“Call it a hunch,” he murmurs against my ear before laying a card that has the men around the table groaning. The game ends with angry mutters and the pile of glinting shillings being pushed in our direction.

Kai quickly tosses the coins into my pack with an insufferable look of satisfaction. “Looks like you won’t be needing to rob anyone today, darling.”

“Too bad,” I mutter. “I was so looking forward to it.”

With a chuckle, Kai all but lifts me off his lap and onto my feet. He stands close behind, placing a firm hand on the small of my back. We make our way to the door at a casual pace, as though we aren’t worth an outrageous amount more than what we just earned.

I throw one last glance over my shoulder to the men in search of us, replaceing them talking to a table on the other side of the room. And then I’m stepping through the door to blink in the blinding sunlight. We turn cautiously around the corner, scanning each street before we stride down it.

It takes nearly an hour of walking before we feel safe enough to slow our pace and lower our guard, but we keep our heads down when we pass the occasional straggler so far from the heart of the city. My feet drag with exhaustion, my eyelids threatening to flutter closed. Kai notices this, of course, and has taken to yanking on the chain when my steps grow sluggish.

“You did a good job back there,” Kai says quietly, breaking our long stretch of silence.

I hum dismissively. “It’s not very hard to sit on a lap.”

“Oh, sitting is easy,” he argues. “It’s the looking pretty part that can be difficult. Well,” he adds sincerely, “not in my experience. But I’m sure others may struggle with that.”

I laugh despite myself. “You think so highly of yourself.”

“Someone has to.” His following accusation has my head whipping toward him. “Since you’re still denying that you think I’m pretty.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re pretty.”

“You know, I almost believe you.” He throws me a bemused look. “You are rather convincing. Especially so during your performance on my lap.”

I turn my face away before he can catch the blush blooming across my cheeks. “Well, I’ve had plenty of practice pretending. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

At the mention of the sham that is my life, my Psychic ability, I’m only reminded of the many people who were dragged into it. The ones who were unassuming accomplices, collateral damage in my performance. Soft green eyes and an easy grin flash in my mind. The new king was the latest victim of my charade, my betrayal.

I shrug the pack from my shoulders to pull out a half-eaten loaf I’d snatched from a merchant’s cart—just like I have all our food. “Do you think he’s worried about you?” I ask between bites of bread. When Kai raises his brows in question, I add, “Kitt?”

I swallow. That’s the first time I’ve referred to the king by his name and not his new title. It feels foreign in my mouth, as though it belongs to the memory of someone I used to know. And in a way, it does.

“If he is worried,” Kai sighs, “it’s because I’m with you.”

I snort. “What, he thinks I’m out to murder all the royals?”

He looks at me fully then, eyes roaming over my face. “He has no idea what you’re out to do.”

“I’m not out to do anything,” I say defensively. “All I want is a unified Ilya. And I certainly had no intention of killing the king that day. He came at me, remember? As if he’d been waiting for the moment.” I look away, shaking my head.

“You still killed the king. You’re a criminal—”

My bitter laugh cuts him off. “And what does that make you? A saint?”

He stops abruptly, practically yanking me into him with the chain. “I’ve never claimed to be anything but a monster.” His hands are gripping my shoulders despite his voice being deceptively soft. “But I also had no intention of killing your father that day. In fact, I had no intention of turning into the shell of a man I am today. But I did. And I pay for it every day.”

I blink at him, at our abrupt shift in conversation. “What do you mean, you had no intention of killing my father?”

“I had no intention of even becoming a murderer that day.” He pauses, letting go of my shoulders as though just realizing he was shaking them. “I didn’t know what my first mission would consist of. And I wasn’t going to go through with it once I found out.” He runs a hand through his messy hair. “He was sleeping, and I wasn’t going to do it. I was going to slip out of the door and deal with the consequences. But then he woke up. He looked me right in the eyes, and that’s when I was suddenly driving the sword through his chest.” A shake of his head. “He hadn’t even reached for a weapon. Hadn’t moved at all. And yet, I ran him through anyway. In my panicked state, I did exactly what the king hoped I would.” He’s silent for a long moment, swallowing his pride before adding, “I stumbled from the room and threw up before I even made it back to my horse. I didn’t want to do it, Gray. I wasn’t going to do it.”

I take a step back, blinking back tears as I look anywhere but at him. “Not what you wanted to hear, was it?” he says roughly. “Makes it harder for you to hate me.”

I turn away slowly, resuming my slow steps down the street.

“Harder, maybe,” I say softly. “But not impossible.”