He wanted to know how she was feeling?

She felt numb.

She felt hollow, like a black hole at her center had sucked away her insides, only no one could tell because the outer shell was still intact.

She felt angry all the time, at him, at her parents, at the world, at herself. And she didn't know why.

Her thoughts were jumpy and sluggish at the same time, skipping from subject to subject only because sa pamamagitan ng the time she got to the middle of a thought, she forgot where she'd started or where she was going. So she felt lost.

She felt like crying every time she laughed, and she rarely felt much like laughing.

She felt heavy.

She felt unworthy. She felt like if someone touched her in the right way, she might disintegrate.

She could turn off the tears and paint on a smile whenever she needed to, which made her wonder if the tears weren't real, either. She felt like a fraud.

But she wasn't about to tell him any of that.

"I feel fine."

Her skin was so soft.

Everything about her was perfect. That sweet, lilting voice that sang whenever she spoke. Her hair, which fell through his fingers like it had no substance, no weight, but was made of golden light. Her lips, which were now pressed against his neck, and her fingers, which crawled down his bare chest and massaged his back. Her pale blue eyes, closed now, shaded sa pamamagitan ng delicate eyelids rimmed sa pamamagitan ng eyelashes so light, they were nearly invisible.

She moaned softly, and shivered as he traced his fingers lightly down the small of her back. Reed grabbed her waist, gently tipping her onto her back and rolling on tuktok of her, so their chests breathed together and their lips met. He supported his weight on his elbows, so as not to crush her, and stared down at her.

Whatever doubts he'd had at the beginning, whatever guilt he'd struggled with, he was past that now.

He had no regrets.

It was a mistake.

It had to be.

She'd heard wrong. Or it was a lie.

A dream. A nightmare. Something.

Because if it was true —

If it was true, and this was reality, there was no going back to the person she'd been. Before.

The plan had worked. Everything had unfolded as she'd imagined it. She'd gotten exactly what she'd wanted. But . . .

She'd made a mistake. A fatal error. Because it hadn't gone exactly as planned, had it?

There was supposed to be humiliation — and there was.

There was supposed to be suffering — and there was.

Everything had gone the way it was supposed to. Except —

No one was supposed to die.

"You know you want me," Kaia whispered, her breath hot and moist against his ear.

Adam sinabi nothing, but didn't — couldn't — push her away. Her perfume washed over him, missing with the smoky air, and he was suffocating, he was dizzy, he was Nawawala in the pounding of the music, the vibrations running through the floor, through their bodies, the thunderous bass. He was Nawawala in the sight of her swollen lips, her wide eyes, her body pressing against his in the darkness.

He thought of Beth, of the look on her face when she'd walked away from him, of the sound of her voice through her tears, telling him she didn't trust him, could never trust him. He thought of what Beth would think, what she would do if she saw him here with Kaia. Thought of proving her wrong, thought of proving her right —

And then, as Kaia's hands tightened around his waist, as his chest pressed against hers, as her tongue slipped past his lips — he wasn't thinking about Beth anymore.

She'll be fine, Kane told himself. He'd find a way to fix things, without destroying himself in the process. He couldn't do that, even for her. He couldn't do it for anyone.

It doesn't make me evil, he told himself. It just makes me human.

Self-preservation was a fundamental human right. madami than that — it was an obligation.

He wished he could be that guy, the one who could dial the number, confess to his crimes, save the day. For the first time in his life, he wished he was someone else, someone nobler, someone braver. Someone better. But he wasn't.