Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76572 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
His forehead crinkles as he studies me, his fingers tightening a fraction. “I’m only going to ask you this one time. Was everything that has happened since we broke out of your father’s compound a lie?”
Part of me wants to spit in his face, fight, kick, slap him. But I’ve been down that road before, and it only ends in more pain and more recovery for me later. I hold tight to my anger and continue to claw at his hand. He doesn’t even flinch. “No. Everything that’s happened since I left my father’s compound has been the only real life I’ve ever lived. Don’t you see that? I’d rather die than betray you, especially to him.”
My words hang between us, and he slowly loosens his grasp and drops his hand. Even if he believes me, the damage is done. I can’t even look at him without seeing the hate in his eyes, the desire to watch me bleed. Not out of pleasure but in pain.
He reaches out, but I slap his hand away. “Fuck you. You don’t get to stand here and treat me like shit, then touch me afterward. I don’t know what was happening between us, and I’m sure as hell not going to tell you how I feel—felt—but you broke it. You ruined it. Or I guess my father did. He’s finally won. I’m done fighting.”
I squeeze out from between him and the windows and head to the bedroom, needing space between us. Could I walk away from him? No, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t run. He’s the only tether I have left on Earth. The only thing I want for myself. But I have to figure out how to forgive him first.
Glass shatters behind me as I close the door, strip out of the fancy dress, and drop it on the floor. I sit on the side of the bed naked, just breathing, trying to stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks.
There’s another crash from the other room, but I can’t bring myself to go to him, to comfort him and take away that anger. Not when it’s his fault there’s this massive hole in my chest.
I don’t know how much time passes, but the door to the bedroom opens. I glance up and spot the blood first, dripping off his fingers, his arm, and his face in tiny cuts. The bedside lamp makes it possible for me to see all the damage. What the hell did he do to himself?
He’s quiet when he comes closer and quieter still when he sinks to his knees in front of me. His face is carefully blank even though his eyes are red, and he’s dripping blood all over the off-white carpets.
So very gently, he slides his hands up my thighs, leaving a smear of blood on my pale skin. “How could you ever want a monster like me?” His voice is a ragged whisper. “You’re beautiful, sexy, and so very kind. It hurts to even look at you. So it took nothing to make me doubt because I am nothing, and you are everything. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until I saw the same emptiness I feel every day entering your eyes.”
I can’t look at him, so I stare down at the smears of blood on my legs, the cuts and nicks on his tattooed arms and hands. His cuff links are gone, and his shirt sleeves hang off him at the forearm, all stained with blood.
I carefully run a finger over one of the shallow cuts. He hisses, and I look up into his eyes. “What did you do to yourself?”
“It’s nothing. It will heal. But will we?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “It’s like everything you said ripped out some vital part of me I needed to feel. Now there’s nothing but an empty hole. Maybe I like it better that way.”
“No,” he growls. He leans up, sliding his hands to the bed beside my legs and getting in my face so I lean back.
He settles his still-clothed weight over my naked one. “You say you can’t feel, but it’s self-preservation.”
His teeth settle over my pulse point, and my body jerks like he’s put a defibrillator on my chest. I sure as shit felt that.
He bites harder until the pleasure-pain point shifts more and more to pain. I shove at his chest, and he barely loosens his hold on me.
When he finally lifts his head, I’m breathing heavily, the pain sparking along my body underneath his.
“Don’t let him win. I almost did. Don’t let him beat you.”
I blink and stare at the ceiling. When he slides his hand down my stomach, I feel the warmth of his fingers and the wet trickle of blood on his fingertips as he opens my body, plunging his fingers deep.