AllFreeNovel
Share Us
So I stick my chest out, cock my head, and say huskily, “And what if I’m not? What are you going to do to me?”
I can hear the desperation in my voice, but I can’t bring myself to correct it. Instead, I unfurl myself in front of him, laying bare and vulnerable to the potential of his punishments.
There’s a vein that ticks in his temple. He takes back his hand from my thigh, which is punishment in and of itself. “Romy.” The way he mutters my name sounds like a chore, and I don’t fucking like it. “There will be no more punishments. If you act out, I’ll just kill you.”
Are we still playing truth or lie?The voice in my brain is hopeful, but I know in my heart that we’re not. I can tell because his threat is devoid of all emotion and challenge.
I suddenly realize I’ve been enjoying his sick games.
Tears well behind my eyes, and I don’t know why I’m being so goddamn stupid. Is this Stockholm syndrome?
My self-preservation kicks in, forming an iron wall around my dignity. This time taller and thicker and galvanized. I suck in air through my nostrils and wish that the heat in my cheeks would fuck off. At the very least, I hope he can’t see it in the darkness of the car.
Remember the plan, Romy. You’ve forgotten about the plan. And being a butt-hurt little bitch wasn’t a part of it.
Straightening my spine, I look him dead in the eyes. “Then let’s go, hubs.”
I don’t wait for one of the henchmen lurking outside to open the door before I lunge for the handle myself. A strong grip on my forearm stops me.
“Romy, wait.” When I look around, there’s a small velvet box under my nose. My eyes dart between it and Donnacha, who’s looking incredibly uncomfortable again. His jaw works, like he’s grinding every tooth in his head. “Put this on.” He snaps open the box to reveal a diamond ring. Even in the gloomy night, the gem finds light to refract, sparkling proudly. “Don’t read into it,” he grunts, stuffing it onto my finger roughly. It fits like a second skin. “It’s just to fit the illusion.”
And with that, he jumps out of the car, rounding it and opening my door with newfound vigor. Icy air and spitting rain assault me, but I’m frozen to the seat, staring at the ring on my finger.
For the first time ever, I feel choked with emotion.
In the pustosh’, there were no broken dreams because dreams were nonexistent. But I had one: One day, somebody would love me. It was nothing but a single flame in my empty stomach. I had no reason to believe in love—I was never shown any— and that flame dwindled down to an ember when the pustosh’ shut down, and I was plunged into the real world. There, darkness was so consuming that it left no room for hope.
But despite my stubbornness and hardness, somewhere, somewhere really deep inside me, that ember has always flickered. A small hope that somebody will crack my tough exterior. Not to break me like Donnacha wanted to do, but to love me.
To crawl inside my soul, where the pieces of me are most shattered, and love me there.
This ring was part of that dream, but being arm candy in a game of make-believe was not.
Donnacha props his hands against the doorframe and leans in to peer down at me. His eyes search mine, concerned. “Are you coming?”
I clamp my emotion under my tongue—I’ve become really good at that—and nod. I’ll play with the Devil because he’s my only ticket to escape this life and find that love for real.
