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“What are you doing?” he asks once again, dangerously calm.
“I’m asking you a question,” I smugly reply, folding my arms across my chest as I turn slowly to face him and only him.
He takes a menacing step forward, but instead of cowering in fear, I cock my head, daring him to do his worst because I am suddenly struck with an idea. I’m baiting him on purpose, and it’s working.
Oh, how it’s worked.
“Come with me…?????.”
Praise all the saints above…
The world spins as he grips my bicep so hard, a whimper escapes me, but that sound isn’t because he’s hurting me; it’s because it feels so fucking good. He drags me through the kitchen as he shoulders open the back door.
He continues hauling me through the yard, and I don’t fight him because this is what I wanted… I wanted him to feel. I’ve tried to be understanding and kind, but that hasn’t worked, so now I’m going to play dirty, just as he did when he fucked that woman and made me watch.
I wouldn’t speak to him, just as he hasn’t spoken to me, so he found my weak spot, just as I found his. Saint can’t stand not being in control, and that’s exactly what happened with Oscar. I need him to see that this wasn’t his fault. He needs to rid himself of these demons before they overshadow him forever.
He kicks opens the barn door and hurls me inside. His back faces me as the lock clicks into place. The steady rise and fall of his shoulders is almost hypnotic, but when he reaches around and unfastens his hair, I know there will be nothing soothing about the next few minutes.
His head is lowered as he deliberately places his splayed hands against the wood and utters a simple yet powerful word which brings me to my knees—literally.
“Kneel.”
For once, I do what he says.
Lowering myself to the ground, I cast my eyes downward, awaiting further command. His exhalations are heavy, and it’s remarkable how I can sense so much from his breathing alone. He’s barely holding on. My disobedience is testing him, just as it did when we first met.
“Why do you constantly defy me?”
I’m not sure if he’s thinking aloud, so I remain quiet. His heavy footsteps alert me to his movement. My heart is in my throat as he circles me slowly.
“Answer me.”
I wet my dry lips before speaking. “Because I can.”
A cracking hints that my reply has him clenching his fist.
“Why are you doing this?” There is genuine curiosity behind his question.
“Doing what?” I embrace my courage and gradually lift my eyes. When we lock gazes, the warm amber sends a shiver straight through me. “Making you feel?”
“What are you talking about?” he spits, but he knows.
“Since we’ve been back, you’ve shut yourself off from everything. From me. And it scares me. I don’t know what I can do to help you. Making you angry is the only response I can get from you. So if this makes you feel…something, if punishing me for everything that has happened to you will bring you back to me, then do it.
“Punish me…?????p.”
He hisses and takes a step back.
“Do it,” I encourage with nothing but determination. “I will happily submit if it takes your pain away.”
Saint is barely holding on. His fist is clenched, and his long, wild hair sharpens his feral features.
His hesitation spurs me on because I can see it…piece by piece, the violence is bringing him back to me. “I deserve it…I killed a m-man. I have blood on my hands now too, but I don’t regret it. I would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant saving you.”
“Stop it!” he screams, charging forward. Once upon a time, I would beg for clemency, but now, I dance with the bloodshed.
“No,” I challenge, not cowering as I peer up at him. “I won’t stop. I will never give up on you. Even if you’ve given up on me.”
