Chapter 18
Nathan's POV
I walked down the hall to Kieran's room, my heart thudding in my chest.
I paused outside for a moment, inhaling slowly, trying to calm the nerves that had started to creep up.
I knocked twice.
No response.
I hesitated, then raised my hand to knock again.
The door swung open before I could.
Kieran stood there, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. His gaze flickered over me briefly before he stepped aside to let me in.
I walked in slowly, the silence hanging heavy between us.
I closed the door behind me, the sound of the latch clicking louder than usual in the quiet room.
Kieran picked up a glass from the side table, swirling the amber liquid in it as his eyes remained on me. A bottle of whiskey sat beside him, untouched for the moment.
He didn't speak, but I knew. He was waiting for me.
I had prepared myself for this moment, for this conversation, but now that I was standing here, the words didn't come. They clogged in my throat, unspoken and heavy.
"Well?" he asked, his voice smooth, his chin resting on his hand as he watched me.
I sighed.
The weight of it all pressed down on me.
I didn't know what to say. How could I say anything when I felt like I was sinking?
Before I could stop myself, I sank to my knees.
I felt his gaze sharpen on me, but I didn't look up. My hand rested on my thighs, trembling.
I didn't speak.
"Please," I whispered, my voice barely a breath.
There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, just a moment, before his lips curled into a smirk.
He stood slowly, his gaze never leaving mine as he moved toward me.
One hand in his pocket, the other still holding his glass.
"You look better like this," he murmured, the words laced with amusement.
I clenched my fists, trying to hold onto something—anything. But it was impossible.
Kieran knelt in front of me, his hand brushing through my hair in that familiar, soft motion. It made my body stiffen, even as I tried not to react.
"I hate it when people disobey me," he whispered, the words sent like a warning through my veins.
He paused.
"I'm willing to give you a second chance," he added, his voice quieter now.
I lifted my head slightly, eyes flickering up to meet his. He reached down, lifting my chin with just the gentlest touch—nothing rough. But still, his grip was firm.
He lifted the glass to my lips, and without thinking, I opened my mouth, letting the whiskey slide past my tongue. The burn caught in the back of my throat.
"Good boy," he said, a small, satisfied smirk curling his lips as he took a sip from the glass as well.
Then, before I could fully process it, his lips slammed into mine. The kiss was hard, urgent, but not like before. It was different. The liquor mixed with the taste of him, and I couldn't pull away.
He pulled back just as quickly as he had come forward, standing abruptly and turning his back to me.
"From now on," he said, his voice colder, final, "You do as I say."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut.
"I did say you —you should date him," he said calmly.
He stepped closer.
"I'll even allow a little… affection."
His fingers brushed my chin.
"Kissing," he added softly.
My breath caught.
His eyes darkened slightly.
"But nothing more."
His voice dropped—colder now.
"Don't let him touch you beyond that."
His words hung in the air, thick with finality.
His words hung in the air, thick with finality.
I didn't say anything.
He bent down slightly, his gaze unblinking.
"Next time, I won't be so forgiving," he said, his voice low, dangerous.
My fists clenched harder at my sides.
He noticed immediately, his hand shooting out to grab my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes again.
"You need to know your place," he said, his voice low and possessive.
I swallowed hard, but my body froze under his gaze.
He stood back up, and I could feel the weight of his presence lingering in the room.
"You can go now," he said, his voice flat, dismissive.
I was caught off guard. For a moment, I didn't move.
The words hung in the air.
I just stood there, numb.
The silence pressed down on me until finally—
"Good night, stepbrother," he said.
His voice was taunting, but it felt more like a dismissal than anything else.
I turned to leave.
My hand was already on the door—
but I stopped.
Something twisted inside my chest.
Tight.
Painful.
Then slowly—
I turned back.
"Kieran."
He didn't move.
Didn't even look at me.
But I knew he was listening.
My fingers moved to my shirt.
Before I could think—
I pulled it off.
The fabric dropped to the floor.
Silence.
Heavy.
I could feel his eyes on me now.
Sharp.
Watching.
I stepped closer.
My hands trembled slightly, but I didn't stop.
I reached for him.
But before I could touch him—
his hand caught mine.
Firm.
Stopping me.
I looked up at him.
Confused.
"What?" I asked quietly.
My voice didn't sound like mine.
"Isn't this what you want?"
The words came out empty.
Like something I had said before.
"To people like you…" I continued, my gaze unfocused, "this is what they usually want."
I swallowed.
"You're not the first."
Silence.
Something shifted.
Like I wasn't really there anymore.
Kieran saw it.
And for the first time—
he didn't smirk.
Didn't tease.
Didn't control.
He just… looked at me.
Then slowly—
he let go of my hand.
He turned away.
Picked up his coat.
And held it out to me.
"Put this on," he said.
His voice was different.
Quieter.
I stared at him for a second.
Surprised.
Then took it.
The coat was warm.
Too warm.
"Good night, Nathan."
I didn't know what to say.
So I said nothing.
I picked up my clothes, dressed quickly, and walked out.
The door closed behind me.
---
I made it to my room.
Locked the door.
And then—
I broke.
My back hit the door as I slid down to the floor.
My chest tightened.
My breath came out uneven.
And before I could stop it—
the tears came.
Silent at first.
Then not.
I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to hold it in—
but it didn't work.
Everything just… spilled out.
The shame.
The anger.
The exhaustion.
"I hate this…" I whispered.
My fingers tightened in the fabric of the coat still wrapped around me.
It still smelled like him.
And somehow—
that made it worse.