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“Suddenly I’m not hungry for food.” His lips descended on mine, arms tugging me closer to him. I was pressed so close I was sure my ribs might crack but I found myself thinking it would be a wonderful pain. He lessened his hold on me, running his hands along my back, fingers pressing deep into my flesh. Distantly my mind told me I should stop, that there was a reason I should be fighting, but I couldn’t find the will to make it matter in that moment. All that mattered was the smell of him, rich and spicy, the touch of him, enveloping and demanding.
I could feel him hardening beneath me.
His tongue probed me, as if looking for all of my secret spots, but was somehow also maddeningly teasing. Sweeping and sucking and tracing, only giving me what he allowed, only allowing me to give him what he permitted. I groaned as his hands found their way into my hair, tugging me closer, as if trying to swallow my soul from my body.
Gently he pulled away, and I was gasping, panting, staring at my fingers fisted in his shirt as if they were alien. When had I done that?
“Mio cuore,” He looked deeply at me, almost frustrated.
“What?” I asked breathlessly.
He traced my cheek with his knuckles. “I have to leave.” He gently lifted me off his lap then set me back on the stool. I watched his motions, watched him walk down the hall, enter his room. He changed into a new suit. I watched everything, as if glued to a screen.
I watched him leave.
Yep. I’ve definitely gone insane, but I don’t want to take the pills. I never want this to end.
Some time after the Beast left, I pulled myself off the stool and walked down to my room. I was nearly there when I was tugged harshly to the side.
“Nikolai,” I said, heart hammering. “You really need to work on your intros.”
“You need to be made aware of something,” Nikolai hissed. “Beast is telling the truth about your father.”
“What?” It felt like someone punched me in the chest. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he is telling the truth. Your father was given the option to take you back and he said no, but that’s not what you need to know, Frankie.”
“I…” I stumbled away, my back hitting the door to my room. “I can’t…” My fingers quickly fumbled with the knob to my bedroom door and I pushed it open. I slammed it against Nikolai.
Rude, I know.
But I just couldn’t deal with Nikolai and whatever his manipulations were that day.
I lay in bed, staring at the door, thinking. Sometimes slaughterhouses give the animals a really great last day. Like, their lives are so shitty so their final day is filled with pets and yummy food, a day out in the wild, whatever to-be-slaughtered animals crave. I wondered if that was what today was.
The horrible truth was, the thing I craved was Beast—his touch, his affection. Beast said that by staying here, by not leaving, instead of putting the knife in Papa, I was putting it in myself. Nikolai had confirmed what Beast had said, and I had no reason not to trust him. If I was being completely honest…I had known Beast wasn’t lying.
I just didn’t want to admit it.
I could leave. I could leave and Papa would die…or I could stay. Today had been, well, kind of marvelous. If I stayed, all the days might be like today, but what did that say about me?
I stared so long at the white wood, wondering which person I should betray by staying or leaving, that the wood began to distort. My eyes got tired with unblinking. I worried if I blinked, I would see inside myself.
I couldn’t go inside of myself; there was too much truth.
The door burst open and I jumped, falling back with a scream. I looked up, expecting Beast, but instead Gabby stood in the doorframe.
“Gabby.” I said her name on an exhale. Gripping the edge of the bed, I pulled myself up and continued, “Jesus. You scared me.” Yep, that’s it. I’m not terrified by my inner demons.
“Gabby?” Her eyes were red and puffy, so swollen, and her face was splotchy. She looked like an absolute mess. I was grateful for her tears, and that sounds so shitty, but her problems provided an outlet for me to forget about mine. I just could not process what was going on with me. I couldn’t think about Papa, couldn’t start to wrap my mind around it, so I focused on her.
“Gabby, what’s wrong?” I climbed back up on the bed and crawled over to where Gabby sat. She hiccupped a cry, as if unable to talk through the pain. The last time we’d met, we’d talked about that stupid flyer and Levi.
Everything had been really good for her.
“I learned something about Levi today,” she said, her words breathless with pain. I paused, prepared for the worst. “The Pavonis…” She swallowed. “They sold his mother to The Institute.”
“The Institute?” I questioned. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
