Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Giving me a sad smile as if he truly cared about the fucked-up state of my soul, he murmured, “I hate to tell you this, Henri, but you don’t have a crush.” He clucked his tongue. “You’re so past a crush it’s a disease at this point.”
“A disease?”
“In our lives? Yes. Love is a disease that needs to be cut out, eradicated, and cured.”
“Love?”
“Oh, come now. You can’t be that naïve. You’re in love with her.”
My legs threatened to buckle.
I wanted to deny it.
I needed to.
But…hadn’t I had the same thoughts lately?
Hadn’t I felt it taunting me beneath the black blanket of depression?
I watched her when she slept, my heart ballooning out of my chest with tenderness.
I hung on her every word, desperate to hear more.
I begged for a single tear, grateful when she was too strong to cry.
Fuck.
“The fact that you’re not denying it proves I’m right,” Victor said quietly.
Ily made a noise behind him, wrenching my stare to her. Even Rachel looked over her shoulder, studying Ily’s reaction.
My entire heart felt like it was on fire. A never-ending fire growing wilder, hotter, and far, far too destructive.
Victor tapped my chin, bringing my gaze back to his. “We are monsters. We’re at the top of the food chain and that’s why you’re struggling so much. Every atom in your body is telling you to let go and be free, but your heart—that stupid human heart—has latched onto the final thing holding you back.”
Fisting my wrist, he pushed my hand toward my mouth.
The blue pill rocked on my palm.
“This will stop all that pain inside you.” He nodded encouragingly as my strength wavered. “All that second-guessing? All that suffering? Poof.” He smiled as my palm touched my lips. “I promise you, Henri…if you cut those ropes and break out of that prison that love has bound you in, you’ll be free…once and for all.”
I hated my weakness.
That my despair perked up at the very notion of no longer feeling this way.
She said it was okay…
I sighed and hung my head.
Nothing was okay.
But nothing about my life or childhood had ever been okay.
Perhaps…maybe…I could be okay if I did this. If I allowed Vic to free me, maybe I wouldn’t have to use my switchblade to reopen my scar and end it.
I didn’t have long.
The misery and melancholy were winning, crushing.
I honestly didn’t know how much longer I could fight the urge to rest, to sleep, to die.
Q isn’t coming…
If I died, Ily would be alone.
But if I cured my affliction of loving her, then perhaps…just perhaps, I could learn how to be better at this. I could still be her Master. We could still have a life together. Just without the mess and agony of feelings.
With a groan, I allowed Victor to tip the pill onto my tongue.
I didn’t fight as he took my glass from my shaking hand and pressed the drink to my lips like I was a child.
The wet stabbing pain behind my eyes came again.
He cared.
He truly cared.
I swallowed.
He hugged me, and I sagged into his embrace.
The wretchedness inside me crashed too hard, too deep.
I sank into it.
Darkness tugged me down and down.
Guiding me to the couch, he sat me down, then padded toward Ily.
My fists balled to stop him.
My body fought the sluggish riptide inside me, making everything so slow and stilted and sad. Just so fucking sad.
I’d never felt such pain.
Such heartache.
Such despair.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me.
Why I could barely move.
Why I felt utterly spaced and seedy.
Closing my eyes, I tried to get a better grip on my rapidly fraying sanity.
Surely, I could come up with a way to prevent Victor from fucking Ily. Didn’t matter I’d agreed to it. Didn’t matter he’d probably try to kill me if I forbade him. I just couldn’t put her through that. Couldn’t run the risk of him breaking her like she’d broken me.
He expects you to fuck Rachel.
I swallowed hard as nausea clutched my throat.
The thought of being inside her. The thought of feeling another woman’s heat around me.
Jesus.
Every inch of me recoiled. I shrivelled inside.
The room swam; white noise hissed in my ears.
Stand up.
Tell him no.
Grab Ily and leave.
Do it!
Before it’s too late.
Shifting on the couch, I went to stand, but my heart didn’t beat right.
I groaned as I collapsed backward, weighted down in every possible way.
The blackness inside me—the thick, impenetrable depression—buried me alive, handcuffing me, gagging me, throwing a hood over my head, and blinding me.
Forcing my eyelids up, I fought against the current and blinked back the dreadful despair.
Victor pushed Ily onto all fours.
He pulled down her G-string.
No…
My heart cracked as Victor landed on his knees behind her and smiled in my direction.
Do something!
Shimmying out of his pyjama bottoms, he said something I couldn’t catch. Words warbled and echoed like pecking crows at my broken brain.