I squeeze her neck a little more, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Yes. Yes, I fucking am. That's the whole point, Dolly.”
She snickers in defiance. “So, you're allowed to force me to my knees in the woods, almost suffocate me with your dick in my throat, or maybe shove a knife in my ass? Hm? What did you think that shit doesn't hurt, Hell?” She tries to excuse his actions by turning them around on me.
I lean in closer, my breath against her ear. “The difference is, you want me to hurt you. You fucking crave it. He doesn't understand that, but I do.”
When I draw back to meet her gaze, I notice her face has fallen at my words, and I seize the moment. “And I would never hurt you out of malice or fucking anger. I would never harm you intentionally. The only time you're ever allowed to shed tears is when the delivery of my pain and pleasure gets too intense. No one, and I mean fucking no one on this earth, is allowed to hurt your beautiful body or soul but me. Not even you.”
She shakes her head once, disbelief etched on her features. “You're out of your fucking mind.”
My jaw tightens, and I lean in closer. “Are you only just noticing, Noir? Because I don't think it's been much of a fucking secret that I am insane since the day we met.”
Limp Dick stirs behind me, regaining consciousness, and Dolly tries to peek over my shoulder, but I grab her face,squeezing her cheeks, forcing her to look into my swirling eyes as I press my lips against hers.
“Either leave him, or I'll fucking kill him,” I growl.
Her eyes widen in shock. “What?”
“You fucking heard me.”
She shakes her head once. “I can't. He was there for me when no one else was,” she admits.
I stare deep into her eyes, my grip tightening. “And now you have me. Get. Rid. Of. Him.”
Her eyes glaze over with moisture. “I hate you,” she chokes out.
I try not to roll my eyes as I respond, “Tell me something I don’t know.”
“You can’t just control everyone and everything, Hell.”
I lower my mouth to her ear, “Fucking watch me.”
As Noir and I maintain intense eye contact for some time, it seems she is starting to calm down, as if a reluctant acceptance is stirring inside her. When Limp Dick stumbles past us, heading for the trailer, her eyes drift to follow him, but I quickly move her face back to mine, retaining her focus. “Come back to my place. I don’t want you here.”
She scans my gaze before giving a small head shake, pulling my wrist to release her. “I'll be fine,” she murmurs. “Please just leave this to me, Hell.”
I growl and look aside, dropping my hand, but she tiptoes, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Don't ever underestimate me. I now say who is allowed to hurt me,” she whispers close to my ear. I turn my head quickly confused by her words, our eyes connecting, and she continues expressionlessly, “I'll see you soon, I’m sure.”
She slips past me, and I stand rooted to the spot, an internal battle raging within me—whether to let her handle this herself or to kidnap her and take her home with me.
When I enter the trailer, I close the door gently behind me, taking a deep breath with my eyes closed. I hear Eli in the kitchen, his movements unsteady. Composing myself, I head towards him and as I step into the kitchen, I spot him immediately. He is leaning against the counter, a tissue pressed to his bloodied nose and guilt creeps up my spine, knowing he’s not alright after what Hell did to him.
“E? Are you okay?” I ask gently, my voice soft and concerned despite knowing the obvious answer.
He remains silent, the blood dripping steadily from his nose. I step forward, “Here, let me help...”
Without looking at me, he stands straight and brushes past.
“Just leave me the fuck alone, Noir,” he snaps.
I instinctively sidestep, “But...” Before I can finish, he storms into the bedroom, the door slamming shut and the bang reverberates through the trailer, leaving me standing there, guilt and worry churning in my gut.
I let out a heavy sigh, feeling defeated and tangled in confusion knowing where both guys are coming from. Eli is angry because of what he saw which is justified, but throwing a fucking bottle at me wasn’t. Hell just went into protective modewhich is also justified. Fuck, I need to get myself out of this mess. What am I doing?
I stroll toward the couch, taking a seat, and slowly pull off my boots and jeans, leaving only my oversized hoodie and socks on. My mind races with thoughts of how to talk to Eli tomorrow, and my eyes flicker to the window hidden behind the curtains.
I stand and move toward it before gently pulling a curtain aside. The night outside is pitch black, and his swirling orbs, absent, leaving a hollow ache in my chest.
Turning away, I head back to the couch, dragging a thick blanket with me. I curl up into a ball, my head resting on the armrest and minutes stretch into what feels like hours, my thoughts refusing to settle. Then, something by the window catches my eye and I carefully lift my head, seeing him standing there, smoking a cigarette.
