Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
His morose thoughts were interrupted by a hesitant knock at the door. None of his captors had ever sounded so leery of visiting him. Jean hadn’t bothered to sit up yet, so he could turn his head that way and watch as his newest guest slipped into the room. The first sight of dark hair and green eyes had Jean sitting up faster than he ought. He hissed displeasure through clenched teeth and crumpled back against the headboard. By the time he was settled, Kevin was sitting on the bed by his knees, one long leg tucked under him and the other dangling off the side.
Jean had been so sure Wymack lied to him a few days back, but Kevin Day was tanned. “You left the court,” he said, too incredulous to catch himself, “to go to the mountains? You? We’re in the middle of championships.”
“I went at knifepoint,” Kevin said, lifting one shoulder in an uncomfortable shrug.
Kevin’s gaze moved over Jean in a slow sweep, taking stock of his injuries. Jean knew better than to look for anger in his stare; the best Kevin could manage was bottomless guilt. Kevin had seen worse than this before. Sometimes Riko let Kevin stay with him afterward; more often Kevin had no choice but to distract the rest of the Ravens from Jean’s misery by being an insufferable bitch. Luckily for them both, Kevin was a master at the latter.
“Until June,” Kevin said, apropos of nothing.
“Yes,” Jean said. He looked to the closed door and slipped into quiet but tense French. “Your coach called the master.”
“To beg for your life?”
“Permission for me to stay for a few weeks,” Jean said. He tipped his head to one side and eyed Kevin shrewdly. “Your coach claims he knows their secrets. He said you told them everything. Everything as in the Nest or everything as in…?” Even here he didn’t dare say it aloud, but he trusted Kevin to fill in the blanks. When Kevin looked away rather than answer, Jean sucked in a sharp breath of disbelief. “You imbecile. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” Kevin admitted. “I was afraid he’d send me back to Evermore. I’m not sorry. I’m not,” he insisted, scowling a little at Jean’s skeptical look. “They deserved to know what they were getting into by sheltering me.”
“They deserved to know,” Jean echoed, sharp with scorn. “I’ve seen you lie a thousand times. You didn’t have to give them the truth.”
Kevin didn’t waste his breath defending his idiocy but said, “I shouldn’t have left you behind. I knew what he would do to you when he realized I was gone. But I—”
“—made me part of it anyway,” Jean reminded him when Kevin faltered. Kevin had the good grace to flinch. Jean felt the tendrils of an old and ugly rage stir, and he knotted a bruised hand in the sheets like he could somehow hold it at bay through sheer force alone.
“It was my only chance,” Kevin said. “I knew you wouldn’t come with me.”
“My place is at Evermore,” Jean agreed, “but you did not have to slit my throat on the way out.”
Once upon a time he would have done anything for this stupid man and Kevin knew it. He’d used it against Jean in the end, begging Jean to distract Riko while he grieved his broken hand. Kevin left Evermore as soon as the coast was clear, and it had taken weeks to convince Riko and the master Jean was innocent and ignorant. They’d had to replace his entire set of armor before the end of January. No one could see how much blood the black padding absorbed, but all the Ravens could smell it.
It should not have taken so long to win their forgiveness after so many years of bowing his head and taking whatever punishment Riko saw fit to inflict on him, but Kevin had damned them both. Kevin had begged Riko in Japanese and English to stop hitting him and, when Riko wouldn’t be swayed, panicked and turned to Jean for help in French. They’d been so discreet for so long, and Kevin had undone it all in a heartbeat. Between the ERC’s assessment of Kevin’s abilities and that brazen disobedience, Riko had gone right off the edge. Kevin had lost his hand, and Jean had lost years’ worth of trust.
“I’m sorry,” Kevin said quietly.
He held out his hand. Jean glowered at him for a moment, but Kevin was willing to outwait him. Finally Jean relaxed his grip and set his hand in Kevin’s, palm-up. Kevin curled his fingers gently around it so he could turn Jean’s arm this way and that. Jean didn’t want to face those bruises and scabs again, so he pointed his stare past Kevin at the dark TV. Kevin tapped Jean’s fingers in a silent command, and Jean made a fist in response. It hurt like hell, but he could do it. Kevin sighed, exhaustion or relief, and asked,