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“Be careful, Gabriela.”
“Are you jealous of him, Stefan?” I push.
“Jealous of my cousin?”
I nod.
“No, I’m not jealous of Rafa. He knows better than to touch what’s mine. Maybe it’s time I show you what that means.” He cocks his head to the side. “Should we discuss the things you told me last night?”
I hate this. Hate not remembering. It gives him such an advantage over me.
I push the chair back and stand. “My head hurts, actually. I’m going back to bed.” I turn to walk away.
“Gabriela.”
I stop.
“I haven’t dismissed you. Sit your pretty little ass back down.”
I bet he got an eyeful of my ass last night. “I said I have a headache,” I say, unable to mask the defensive tone of my voice.
“I have questions, Gabriela.”
I turn back to him, narrow my gaze to study him. What the hell happened last night? What could I have said that he has questions?
I fold my arms across my chest and try to look bored.
“Who put the marks on you?” he asks.
The instant the words are out, I feel my entire body flush. But it’s not heat I feel, it’s cold. Ice cold.
“What?”
“You heard me. Who did it?”
I’m at a loss. I just stare back at him at a total loss.
Then instinct kicks in.
Distract.
“What did you do, strip me naked so you could have a good look? What else did you do? Huh? Did you touch me, Stefan?”
His eyes harden. His jaw tightens.
I should stop. I should stop now. But I know myself. I won’t. I can’t.
“Or more?” I ask.
At that, he stands, his chair scraping loudly as he pushes it back.
“That’s too far, sweetheart.”
He takes a step and I don’t wait for him to take another. I turn, and I run. I run back to the stairs knowing there’s nowhere I can go. Nowhere I can hide from him.
By the time I reach the staircase, he’s right behind me. I trip more than once in my haste and have no doubt he can catch me, but he doesn’t. Instead he chases me to my room, and I get the feeling he’s just herded me.
When I go to slam the door shut behind me, it bounces off his shoe and shudders as it opens.
I scurry around the bed.
He closes the door behind him and stands there. He’s pissed but he’s not out of breath. Not after that sprint up the stairs.
I am, though.
“Get out, Stefan! I mean it!”
Without a word, he stalks toward me
“Are they cigarette burns?”
“Get out!”
He doesn’t though, he just keeps coming.
And I do the only thing I can. I take the only thing I can protect myself with. The knife I’d swiped from breakfast.
I grab it out from under my pillow and hold it up between us, pivoting from foot to foot, not sure what the hell I’m doing because I have no plan. The knife isn’t even that sharp, but still, it’s a knife.
“Put that down.”
“You shipped me back here yesterday so you could play house with your cousin in Rome. What did you call her? A kissing cousin? You left me here alone, locked up, not even able to leave the house. I have nothing to do. No one to talk to. I am completely alone until you get the idea you’d like to fuck with me? Is that it? What, are you bored now? Am I your plaything when you’re bored, or you happen to be home and don’t have anything better to do or whenever the hell it suits you?”
His eyes narrow and he sets his jaw.
“I’m your pawn in this stupid game you’re playing with my father. I get that. I accept it, even, as fucked up as it is. Hell, I’ll even let you dress me up and flaunt me under his nose because I heard your warning loud and clear and I have no doubt you will bury me without a second thought. But understand this. I have no intention of tucking my tail between my legs at your command.”
“Gabriela.” The single word, my name spoken so quietly, so calmly, is a warning on his tongue.
I’ve never been one to stop, though. Never could back down.
“You told me respect is a two-way street. I’ll remind you of it. You may think you own me, and maybe you do, maybe you own my body. But my mind, my thoughts, my secrets, they’re mine. Not for you. My past is my past. My scars are my scars. Don’t ask me like you care. Like you give a single fuck. You don’t. You’re a monster, Stefan. Like him. Like the man you hate. Do you know that you and I, we’re even repeating history? My mom. My dad. Are you going to drown me too?”
I gasp.
I hear the words too late. Only after they’re out.
Shit.
What did I do?
