An Unwitting Pawn

AURORA

The ride home is suffocating. Kian drives through the rain-slicked streets in complete silence, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I'm shivering in the passenger seat, my dress still damp despite the heat blasting from the vents.

Neither of us has spoken since leaving the curb.

The windshield wipers create a hypnotic rhythm – swish-swish, swish-swish – matching the chaos in my mind. I steal a glance at Kian's profile, his jaw clenched tight. The streetlights flash across his face, illuminating then shadowing his features in a way that makes him seem almost otherworldly.

I break first. "Why do you hate him so much?"

Kian's eyes remain fixed on the road. "I don't hate Liam."

"Could've fooled me," I mutter.

"It's complicated."

"That's not an answer."

He sighs, a deep sound that fills the car. "Some things are better left buried, Aurora."

"Not when I'm caught in the middle of them."

The car slows at a red light. Rain drums harder on the roof.