KAIDËN’S POSSESSION.

Chapter: 4

*****

Asher squinted, his mind racing back to what happened the night before, and he felt his cheeks heat up. For a moment, he almost asked Kaidën if he was okay, you know, down there, but instead, he snapped, "What do you want?" He tried to sound calm, even though he was a mess inside.

Kaidën's grin was annoyingly playful, like he was enjoying Asher's irritation. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old, brown wallet. Asher's eyes went wide when he realized it was his. He hadn’t even noticed it was gone! He remembered just casually reaching into his pocket to pay for the cab, never thinking he’d lost the one thing that had the only picture of his sister in it.

Asher reached out to grab it, but Kaidën held it just out of reach. Frustration bubbled up in Asher, and he lunged for it, but Kaidën was too fast. He pulled his hand back, making Asher stumble forward and bump into him. Asher’s face turned bright red as he quickly steadied himself, glancing around to see if anyone had seen this awkward moment.

Kaidën’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he spoke in a low, teasing tone. "I just came to give you your wallet back, but I wouldn’t mind a repeat of last night... right here, right now.”

Asher's heart raced at Kaidën's words, sending a shiver down his spine. He bit his cheek, trying to stay cool despite the heat rising in him. Why did Kaidën have to toy with him like this? Asher hated these feelings. He had always controlled his emotions, keeping himself in check all these years, but now, with this guy, he felt like he was losing control.

Kaidën smiled, and his gaze lingered on Asher's face. "You look so cute when you’re flustered, detective.”

Asher felt his face get even hotter, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and something else. "Cut it out, Kaidën.”

But Kaidën just laughed, his voice smooth and low. "I'm just getting warmed up." He reached out, his fingers brushing Asher's cheek. No matter how hard Asher tried, he felt powerless against him, which was so frustrating. Kaidën’s light touch made Asher’s eyes close, his breath hitching in his throat. He wanted to step back, but Kaidën’s hand followed him, gently touching his skin, and Asher nearly let out a moan.

Almost.

"You’re so easy to read," Kaidën whispered, his breath teasing Asher's ear. "I wonder what other reactions I can get out of you." Asher opened his eyes, locking his gaze onto Kaidën's, but when he tried to push Kaidën’s hand away, the guy tightened his grip on Asher's wrist.

"Let go," Asher growled, trying to keep his voice steady. He felt like he was losing his grip. How did Kaidën know exactly how to push his buttons? It was like he understood Asher better than he understood himself.

Kaidën just kept smiling, that infuriating glint in his eye. "Not until you admit you’re interested," he teased, refusing to let go of Asher's wrist.

Asher’s cheeks burned as he tried to act unfazed. "I’m not interested," he lied, his voice flat and totally unconvincing.

Kaidën's eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked at Asher, clearly enjoying his struggle. "Oh really? Then why is your body giving you away? Just look at you, Asher, you're shaking." He teased, his voice low and smooth, pointing out Asher's trembling hand. That little movement completely contradicted Asher's claim of being uninterested, and Kaidën's knowing smile only made Asher blush harder.

Asher quickly glanced down at his hands and felt a jolt of realization, Kaidën was right. He was indeed trembling. With a lot of effort, Asher tried to regain his composure, forcing a calm expression onto his face. "I'm not shaking because of you," he lied, knowing he was a terrible liar.

Kaidën let out a soft laugh that sent chills down Asher's spine. "You're like an open book, sweetheart, so easy to read," he said with a teasing glint in his eyes.

Asher narrowed his eyes, trying hard to resist Kaidën's charm. "I'm not easy to read," he shot back, sounding almost childish, but his eyes showed a flicker of doubt.

Kaidën’s smile stayed put, and his gaze was locked onto Asher with an intensity that made him uneasy. "Really? Then why are you still here, chatting with me.”

Asher's temper flared, and his eyes blazed with frustration. "I'm here because you're still holding my wallet," he snapped, his voice tight. But underneath, he was angry with himself too. What was wrong with him? Why did this mysterious guy get under his skin so easily?

Kaidën chuckled softly, like he was enjoying the moment. "Sweetheart, you're focusing on the wrong things." With a dramatic flair, he handed Asher his wallet, making the gesture a mix of elegance and mockery. "Here, keep it. I don’t need it anymore.”

Asher squinted, suspicion racing through his mind. "What do you want, Kaidën?" he asked, his tone firm. "You didn’t come all the way here just to return my wallet." Even though he tried to sound tough, Kaidën’s charming smile was hard to ignore.

"I want you, detective," Kaidën replied confidently. "And I always get what I want." The weight of his words hung between them like a challenge. Asher's heart raced at the intensity of Kaidën's gaze.

"You’re not going to get me," Asher shot back, his irritation boiling over. "I’m not some trophy you can claim." He was desperate to assert himself, to fight back against Kaidën's charm.

Kaidën's laughter sounded like a playful dare, leaving Asher feeling prickly. "We'll see about that, detective," he said, amusement dancing in his eyes. He turned to slide into his car but paused, his gaze snapping back to Asher like a magnet. "I found a photo in your wallet," he said smoothly. "You wrote 'Emily' on the back. Is she your sister?" The question felt like a probing of Asher's deepest wounds.

Asher’s patience snapped, and he growled, "Mind your own business," his anger blazing. Kaidën’s smile only deepened, as if he was daring Asher to reveal more.

"But I am, detective. You are my business," he replied calmly, completely unfazed by Asher’s rage.

Asher's anger flared even more, and he spat. "Freak." Kaidën chuckled, a low sound that sent shivers through Asher.

"Says the guy who jumped into my bed with such... enthusiasm," Kaidën teased, winking at him. Asher felt a mix of embarrassment and anger, quickly checking to see if anyone was around to witness this.

With a fierce whisper, Asher leaned closer, barely audible. "I was drunk," he muttered, trying to salvage his dignity and erase the memories of last night.

Kaidën's eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying Asher's discomfort. "Is that the story we're sticking to, detective?" His tone was laced with skepticism, challenging Asher to defend himself.

Asher's expression darkened, and he clenched his jaw, feeling the heat of his anger. "Fuck you, Kaidën," he growled, turning to leave. But Kaidën's laughter stopped him in his tracks, a cold sound that sent a chill down Asher's spine.

For a brief moment, Asher felt unsteady, his legs shaking underneath him. Kaidën's last words were a teasing jab, filled with mischief and a hint of something more intimate. "You already did, detective," he had said. Those words hung in the air, reminding Asher of the night they shared and the secrets that still lingered between them.

The roar of Kaidën's car engine broke the moment, and Asher turned to watch as the sleek vehicle drove away from the curb. He kept his eyes on the fading taillights before reaching into his wallet to pull out a worn photograph.

The picture showed his sister, Emily, smiling back at him. Her bright eyes and innocent face were a painful reminder of the past. It had been ten years since she vanished, leaving behind nothing but memories and a deep sense of loss. Asher tightened his grip on the photo, feeling a heavy weight in his heart that he couldn’t shake off. Asher's thoughts drifted back to that fateful night, the memories burned into his mind like a scar. He was fourteen, and Emily was just ten. Their father had been acting strange all day, his usual anger simmering just beneath the surface.

As night fell, Asher tried to protect Emily from their father’s rage by ushering her into their room. He hid her in the cupboard, a routine he’d learned to follow whenever things got tense at home. But when he went back to the living room, he was met with a sight that made him freeze. His father was talking to two men in black suits, their faces blank and serious.

Asher felt a strong urge to get Emily and run away. But he didn’t listen to that instinct. Now, he regretted it more than anything. Instead of grabbing Emily and escaping, he tried to eavesdrop on the conversation. The men’s voices were low, and he couldn’t make out what they were saying. His heart raced as he turned to rush back to the room and get Emily. But it was too late. His mother stepped out of the bedroom, holding Emily tightly. Asher's father took Emily from her arms with a cold, calculating look in his eyes.

The two men in suits moved closer, reaching out their hands. Asher tried to fight back, desperate to stop them from taking Emily. But he was no match for the men. When his father saw that Asher wouldn’t let go, he hit him with something hard, and everything went dark. When he woke up, he was tied to the bedpost, his head pounding with pain. The room was empty—his parents and the men in black suits were gone.

And so was Emily.

Asher snapped back to the present, the memories still burning in his mind. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. That night had changed everything for him; it was the night he lost his sister.

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