Chapter 61 They Said I Was Crazy

Chapter 61 They Said I Was Crazy
My reaction made it obvious something had happened, but I didn't want to talk about it, and Caspian didn't push my body, he just let me cling to him without asking questions.

Then Grayson's voice came from outside. "Mr. Vale, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Caspian called back. "Just sleeping too deeply."

I thought I heard a muffled snort from outside. Soon, the gate clicked shut, and Grayson left.

Caspian reached up and turned on the light. That's when I saw he was still wearing his coat, dark circles under his eyes like he'd been up all night.

My heart was still racing. "What happened? How did you even get in?"

"You didn't answer your phone or the doorbell." He looked at me. "I used the spare key you gave Grayson."

Oh. Right. I'd given Grayson a spare key weeks ago in case of emergencies, back when my father first went into the coma, and I was worried something might happen to me. I'd completely forgotten about it.

"My phone died." I grabbed it off the nightstand. "I was so exhausted yesterday, I just crashed without plugging it in."

I connected the charger and turned back to him. "How many times did you ring? I didn't hear anything."

Caspian didn't answer, just stood and walked out to finally take off his coat. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands, and I threw off the blanket to follow him, my legs still shaky.

"You look terrible," I said from the bathroom doorway. "Did you even sleep?"

"No."

That one word hit me harder than it should have. He'd been worried enough about me not answering to drive all the way back, then stayed up all night. I walked into the kitchen to pour myself water, trying to process that.

When Caspian came out, he found me sitting with my knees pulled up, but my eyes kept drifting to the door like I expected someone to burst through any second.

"Still haven't calmed down?" His voice was gentler now.

I looked away from the door and set down my glass, then held out both hands to him without saying anything.

The second he sat down, I climbed into his lap and pressed my face into his shoulder, breathing in that cedar scent that somehow always made me feel safer.

"If it's you, I'm not scared," I mumbled.

His arms came around me, and we stayed like that, neither of us moving. I could feel the tension slowly leaving my body, replaced by something else entirely. My fingers found their way to his collar, and I started tracing patterns there without thinking.

"Vera." His voice had changed, gone lower.

I lifted my head to look at him and found his eyes already dark with want. "Yeah?"

Instead of answering, he kissed me, and whatever question I'd been about to ask dissolved completely. The kiss deepened, and I shifted in his lap, pressing closer, and his hand slid up my back.

We didn't even make it to the bedroom at first. Caspian kept me on his lap right there, one hand keeping my head tucked against his shoulder while everything else happened, and I wasn't exactly thrilled about the position because I was still sore from the night before.

But my body responded anyway, couldn't help itself despite the lingering ache. I barely moved, but it was enough.

When it ended, I was breathing hard, and he still hadn't let me see his face properly, so I bit down on his neck in frustration.

"Still hasn't learned," he said, and this time I heard it clearly.

"Learned what exactly?" I managed to get out. "It's only been two days."

He didn't answer, just lifted me up and carried me to the actual bedroom this time. I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him, too exhausted to do anything else.

What followed was intense enough that I lost track of time completely. Caspian was relentless in a way that should've scared me, but somehow didn't, just left me drowning in sensation after sensation until I couldn't think straight anymore. At some point, I started crying without even realizing it, and when he finally slowed down, I was shaking all over.

We lay there in the darkness afterward, my head on his chest, listening to both our heartbeats gradually calm down.

I reached out to touch his face, needing to ground myself in something real.

Caspian caught my hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm that somehow felt more intimate than everything we'd just done.

Neither of us moved for a long time after that.

Then, out of nowhere, Caspian asked, "Have you studied dance?"

The question was so unexpected I actually laughed. "What? Where did that come from?"

"Just answer."

"I took classes years ago, but I've forgotten most of them now. Why?"

His hand traced down my spine to rest at my waist. "I can tell. Your body's very flexible."

Heat rushed to my face. "That's not! You're such a pervert."

He didn't respond to that, and after a quiet moment, he said, "That man who kidnapped you, Brett Collins. He told the police he saw you dance once a year ago and became obsessed. That's why he kidnapped you."

The memory of that creep made my skin crawl. "Even if he did see me dance, that would've been like five or six years ago at least. What kind of sick person stays obsessed that long?"

"Someone dangerous." Caspian's voice had gone flat. "He won't be a problem anymore."

The way he said it made me not want to ask what exactly that meant.

"Years ago, though," Caspian continued, his tone shifting to something more careful. "Where would he have seen you dance?"

I tensed slightly. "Are you asking about my past now?"

"Can't I?"

"You can ask." I traced my fingers along his collarbone. "But my past isn't exactly pretty. You might not like what you hear."

But I turned it back on him instead. "What about your past, then? That seems like a fair trade."

The silence that followed stretched out so long I started to regret asking. I could feel him thinking, deciding something, and instinct told me I should back off and change the subject.

But I couldn't. The question I'd been holding back for weeks finally burst out. "Everyone says you haven't left the country in twenty years. That you stayed here for medical treatment. Is that true?"

More silence, heavy and tense.

When he finally spoke, his voice was careful. "Some of it's true. Some isn't."

I thought about that. "The medical treatment part must be the lie, then. You're clearly not sick."

"What if I told you that's the true part?"

My breath caught. "What do you mean? What kind of illness?"

"They said I was crazy."

The words came out so casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but they hit me like a physical blow. I tried to sit up, to see his face and figure out if he was serious, but his hand on my head kept me down.

"Don't," he said quietly.

We were both still in darkness, and I couldn't see his expression. My mind was racing, trying to process what he'd just told me, what it meant, whether it was even true or some kind of test.

The silence between us felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.

"Are you scared now?" His voice was almost curious.

I should've been. A normal person would've been. But all I felt was my heart pounding and this strange ache in my chest that I couldn't name.

"That's not funny to joke about," I finally said, keeping my voice steady.

"Who said I was joking?"

I pulled back enough to trace my fingers along his jaw, finding his mouth in the darkness, then kissed him slowly and deliberately, like I was trying to prove something to both of us.

Caspian let me, stayed perfectly still while I took control for once.

But our breathing started picking up again anyway, getting faster and more uneven, and I knew exactly where this was heading.