Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 105615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
My mind worked over this. Over all of the information I’d received. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. Jay was being careful with his words. He was telling me he was the head of some kind of organized crime ring that included prostitution and murder.
And oftentimes, women like Diane got caught in the crossfire.
He said that so matter or fact. Like he was declaring he wanted his coffee without cream.
Caught in the crossfire.
“Do you hurt people?” I asked. “Innocent people?”
“No one’s innocent, Stella,” Jay replied. He stepped forward and brushed the hair out of my face. I flinched, but he didn’t stop, didn’t step away from my obvious fear. “Not you. Not now. I’ve taken whatever innocence remained inside of you. And I’m not sorry for that.”
He cupped my cheek, gripping my jaw to the point of pain. “I’ll continue to take what I can from you for as long as I can. I won’t give you what you want. I won’t tell you everything about my life, about the darkest sides of it, because that keeps you safe. But just know that, in most narratives, I’m considered the villain. I don’t save people. The hands I touch you with have ended lives. Caused pain. The life I live outside of you is ugly. And that’s never going to change.”
There it was. There were the answers to all my questions. Confirmation of all of my suspicions. Jay lived an ugly life. One that he would not protect me from. One that would further stain my soul if I chose to stay with him.
As if I had a choice.
I stepped away from him, and he let me.
“I need a shower,” I murmured, walking toward the bathroom. I stopped with my hand on the door, my eyes flickering to Jay. “Are you coming?”
He didn’t hesitate to follow me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ONE MONTH LATER
The past month flew by in a blur. That night, the night, stayed in my mind in stark detail. I had nightmares about it sometimes, jerking awake, knowing it was three in the morning without having to look at my phone.
I’d considered ending things with Jay many times throughout the past month. Even practiced doing so. Imagined what it might feel like to cut him out of my life. It was the smart thing to do. I only knew a snippet of what his life was truly like, and that snippet was covered in blood and bruises and death. The longer I stayed, the more I’d be covered with those same marks. The deeper I’d get.
But I didn’t leave.
Couldn’t.
I answered every single one of Jay’s calls. Submitted to him whenever he demanded it. Slept with him, let him take over my body when I jerked awake from nightmares.
This past month had me attending more events with him than I had in our entire ... arrangement. We’d had dinners together. Just the two of us. At restaurants. Five different times.
Five.
During the week.
He fucked me in the swanky bathrooms of each restaurant.
I hadn’t allowed myself to read in to the fact we were spending more and more time together. At least I pretended I wasn’t reading anything in to it. If anything, it was giving me a welcome distraction to the worries that I’d carried with me from my last birthday. I was still waiting for something to happen. Something inside of me to snap. Something to change.
Diane texted me. Not often, but a couple of times to let me know she was doing better, to thank me for my help. I thought of her often and wondered what I could do to help her. In those texts, I asked her what her dreams were, what she wanted to do with her future. I hoped it hadn’t come off as condescending.
Diane had said she wanted to be a pastry chef, own a little bakery.
I made calls, got Zoe to talk to some of the best cooking schools in the city to get Diane enrolled the next semester. I’d foot the bill.
With my mind caught up in all that had happened, I’d spent less time obsessing over my mindset, worrying about symptoms. But I didn’t forget my fears entirely. They were part of me.
My father called me more often. He was waiting for it, too, even if he never said it out loud. Even my girlfriends were checking on me more. I couldn’t get through a day without hearing the crunch of an eggshell someone was walking on.
Except Jay.
He wasn’t one to tread softly. Treating me as if I was seconds away from some kind of mental breakdown. Jay treated me with the same cold cruelty as he always had. The beautiful brutality. He had become my North Star.
And I didn’t know why he was requiring my presence more and more, but I thanked God for it. Or the devil. Whoever it was that Jay served. Whoever it is he pleased with his actions. I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.