Page 94 of Relapse

I struggled to push myself up. The pain in my ribs was a distant second to the rage boiling inside of me. I succeeded with the assistance of the bed post behind my head, clinging to it as I hoisted myself to a sitting position. “You want to run that by me again?” I grounded out through my clenched teeth.

She stumbled backwards awkwardly, clearly frightened. “I think it is best to tell your mom about these…these…interactions that are leaving you so hurt. I care about your safety…and you…aren’t safe Mr. Hansen.”

She was looking at me with those wide, pitying eyes again. Pity. I didn’t want her pity.

My black heart spiked to attention. “You care about me?” The thought was absurd. A joke.

“Your safety,” she repeated, this time weaker than before.

I inclined my head—a predator’s gesture. I knew it well. “Come here.”

Kim was speechless. She didn’t move.

I glanced to the spot on the bed directly in front of me, beckoning with my finger. “Come,” I repeated the command.

Kim took in a shaky breath. “You’re badly injured Mr. Hansen. I need to talk with Mrs. Hansen so that we can help—”

“That’s an order,” I snapped, cutting her off. “Get over here. Now.”

Slowly she moved, crossing the short distance between us in four agonizingly deliberate steps. She looked like she could bolt for the door at any moment if she wanted to.

But I knew that she wasn’t going anywhere.

“Yes sir?” She whispered, looking down at me through her long black lashes.

My eyes lingered on the soft curve of her mouth, the delicate line of her neck and her collarbone. She was whole. Unbroken. And I knew, with the same certainty as the turmoil festering in my body, that I could use her. I could take the warmth from her skin. The soft sounds from her throat. She was a body that I could fill and use to forget. I could pour all of this poison, this memory of David, into her.

She’d be the canvas for my pain.

My hand eased up, grasping her chin. She flinched at the contact.

She was my prey now.

“You want to help?” I snarled, my voice a low, venomous hiss.

“You want to fix this? You can’t. No one can.”

My thumb dug into the soft flesh of her jaw. “But you can be useful. You can help me forget.”

I let my other hand drift down to the waistband of my boxers. “You want to protect me? Then be my distraction.”

Her eyes widened as I pushed my boxers down in front of her, my erection springing free, a weapon born of pure rage. It wasn’t about her personally. In my mind, she was just… a thing. A tool. Kind of like me. There was nothing about her that made me want her physically. She’d be my distraction, just enough to cut through the haze. If I could make her feel used, inferior, then maybe for a second, I could forget that it was actually me who was really all of those things.

Maybe, I could pretend I was the one with the power. Maybe the screaming in my head would finally stop.

She was just collateral damage. And God help me, but I didn’t care.

My body and mind were maps of David’s handiwork. And I was living up to his design.

“Kneel,” I commanded. “And be useful.”

She watched me with a pained expression, but she slowly sank to her knees, her hands trembling.

“That’s a good girl,” I murmured, my voice devoid of any warmth as I guided her head downwards. “Show me how much you care.”

Day Six

My eyes opened to see the early morning light shimmering in through my open window. Nothing else was focused. No matter how many times I blinked my eyes the world continued to be a blur.