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“From me.”
The air around us is thick with desire and unspoken words. So many emotions swirl in my head, and I can’t put them in the right place. I’m conflicted because the look he gives me is both murderous and yielding. Almost as if he’s dying for me to grab him and kiss him, to give him permission to take me, to keep me. But we both know that’s not how this works.
I am not a willing victim, and he is not a good man … and he knows it.
That’s what’s bothering him, why he wanted to come and see me. He’s trying to undo something that can’t be fixed.
I shake my head. “No. You can’t fucking do this.”
“What?” he growls. “Admit that I tried to take my anger out on you?”
I shake my head. It’s more than that, and he knows it. He’s just trying to hide from it, just like I am.
I’m disappointed in both myself and him, and I storm off to cool down. But there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. I can’t escape this place. The only way to move is up. Up there, into the big trees scattered across the grounds. So I go to the tree closest to the fence and start to climb it.
I’ve had it with this place, with these people, with him. If I can’t have what I came for, if I can’t have the truth without losing myself, then I quit.
“What the hell are you doing, Harper?” Marcello barks at me from below the tree.
“I’m gonna jump off,” I shout back. “And you won’t ever see me again.”
He laughs out loud. “Oh, please. You know the wall is too far, right?”
“I don’t care!” I reply. I’m not giving up that easily even though he’s right. But I’ve got this in my mind, and now I have to carry it out. Otherwise, we’re both liars.
“If you jump, you’ll only hurt yourself,” he adds.
I laugh. It’s not a joyful laugh but a cynical one. The laughter of a woman who’s out of options. “Why do you even care? You never cared about me. I’m just a fuck toy, right?”
Suddenly, the look on his face changes, and he balls his fist. “Don’t.”
“What?” I raise my brow. “Speak the truth?” I make a tsk sound. “You should try it. Feels good.”
“Stop.” His voice is even more demanding than usual.
“Why would I? Give me one good reason,” I say, clutching the branch above me while balancing on the stem below me, hoping I can get close enough.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harper!” he yells. “I’m already watching my own fucking mother die. I don’t need to watch you die, too.”
My eyes widen, and I immediately stop.
What did he just say?
His mother?
Dying?
I turn around on the branch and look at him, hoping to spot a lie, but nothing but pain mars his face, twisting it into a darkness I haven’t seen before. It’s true. Holy shit.
“Now come down,” he adds, extending a hand. “Please.”
I’ve never heard him plead with me like that. Never.
It’s enough to make me listen.
I climb down the thick branch and grab his hand on the way down, but a big root sticks out from the ground and causes me to stumble straight into him. He catches me in his arms, my face against his warm chest, his heartbeat rising with every breath I take.
I quickly lean away as he clears his throat, but his hands won’t leave my body, and I won’t leave his embrace.
What is this stirring deep down in my belly? Our hearts twisting slowly into an impossible knot? It can’t be that … can it?
“I didn’t know about—”
He places a finger on my lips. “Don’t say another word.”
I lower my eyes. I can’t look at him, but I don’t know why.
“You are mine. You do not get to escape this place,” he says, and with his index finger, he tips up my chin. “Do you understand?”
My brows furrow. “Why? Why me? What am I to you?”
“You are … special to me,” he says hesitantly, licking his lip.
“Special,” I scoff. “So that’s why you treat me like a fuck do—”
Before I can finish the word, his hands cup my face, and he smashes his lips on mine.
I’m overcome with emotion, overcome with greed, lust, anger, rage, all of it bundled into one sweet, sinful package that I don’t know how to unwrap. His kiss is harsh and soft at the same time, needy, as though he’s been holding himself back and finally letting go.
I can’t help but feel moved by the moment, wishing he could’ve been this way from the start. Honest. Vulnerable. Transparent. Like a normal fucking human being.
It’s wrong, he’s wrong, but this kiss … it feels so damn right I don’t want him to stop.
It’s almost as if he can hear my thoughts because he immediately takes his lips off mine and stares at me for a second, contemplating what to do. Maybe contemplating whether or not he feels something for me. Although that might just be wishful thinking on my part.
