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“It’s not an out, it’s an option. I want you to do whatever you can handle, Addie. If that means staying home, I support you. If that means going on a massive murder spree, I’ll be right by your side, baby. You’re still having nightmares about Sydney and Jerry, and carrying around that guilt for protecting yourself. If you can’t learn to accept that, how will you accept taking anyone else’s life? Because believe me when I say, this won’t be self-defense from here on out.”
“I don’t know how to accept it, Zade. I feel like I’m justifying murder.”
“Just like I ‘justified’ stalking you?” He puts air quotes around the word because we both know Zade was well aware of what he was doing and how wrong it was.
“Forcing a gun into that pussy and making you come all over it? Or all the other times you told me no, and I did it anyway?” he volleys back. The flush in my cheeks deepens, and my face burns from the reminder of that stupid gun. “Did I know it was wrong? Of course, I did. But it clearly didn’t stop me from doing it. You need to figure out your morals, and what you’re okay living with. Not what you’ve been taught, but what you feel in your gut.”
“So, stalking and assaulting me is written in your book of morals?”
“No,” he says, his smile widening. “I was obsessed with you from the moment I saw you. All those dark, twisted emotions I felt were the rawest form of who I am. I made the decision to show you that instead of concealing it. I never claimed to be a good person, little mouse, and that was something I decided I could live with. Just like murdering a bunch of pedophiles and human traffickers.”
“I’m pretty sure the people you kill tell themselves the same thing you do to help them sleep at night,” I comment dryly.
“I’m sure they do,” he agrees easily, taking a step toward me. My breath hitches, but I stand my ground, even as his voice deepens sinfully, “And I’m sure there are many who claim to be good and honest, and that they would be willing to kill me for my crimes against you. But that’s the difference. I’ve never made those claims.”
A flush crawls up my face, warming my cheeks beneath his intense stare.
“You make it sound so easy to just be… bad.”
“I’ve had a lot of practice.”
He has, which raises more questions. I roll my lips, my pulse beating erratically, working up the nerve to ask the question on the tip of my tongue. I’m afraid of what might happen once I do.
I’ve explained to Zade before that it was going to take me time to get used to some things about him. And now that I’ve been through what I’ve been through… all those old fee
lings are resurfacing. Not the hate or the desire to get away but accepting and understanding his contradictions and skewed morals.
“So, what’s been stopping you then?” I rush out.
Cocking his head, he waits. “From fucking me,” I say bluntly. “You didn’t stop before. What’s stopping you now?”
He’s silent for a few beats. “Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself,” he murmurs, staring at me thoughtfully. “There would be a very different reaction this time around—you already know that.”
I cross my arms, popping out a hip. “Would there?”
“Yes,” he says firmly. “Do you think if I pinned you to the ground, you’d fight me at first only to end up grinding your pussy into my face because I’ve awakened something in you? Or do you think you’d fight like your life depended on it, only to end up mentally checking out from the trauma?”
I swallow, the truth tasting like dirt on my tongue.
“You will never hear me call myself a good man. Or kind. Or even honorable. There is very little left of that in me, and the truth is that it was never really there to begin with. I was born with a blackened soul and good intentions. And there is a difference between those who are needlessly evil and those who do bad things hoping that something good will come out of it. I'll let you decide for yourself which one I am.”
He doesn't wait for me to answer—I get the distinct feeling that he wants me to think about it first.
He steps towards me, and my muscles instantly stiffen. That’s when I realize I don't need to think about it at all. Trauma has a tight hold on me, but all I want him to do is hold me tighter.
“You want the simple answer, too?” he asks, his voice deepening, causing my pulse to skyrocket. “It’s because I love you, Adeline Reilly. And I know you love me back. When I’m inside you, you won’t be thinking of anything else but how to get me deeper. The only fear you’ll taste is from a God sending you to heaven too soon.”
My heart skids and comes to a crashing halt against my rib cage, giving out on me completely. My knees will be next, and that would be fucking embarrassing.
He grins, his gaze turning predatory. “That won’t be the only fear I’ll instill in you.”
Slowly, he begins to circle me while I stand frozen. His heat presses into my back, and his breath warms the side of my neck. My fight or flight instincts are kicking in, and my control over it is slipping.
“You will always be the little mouse, and I will always hunt you. I’ll patiently wait until you’re ready for me to touch you, but make no mistake, Adeline, it’ll still hurt when I do.”
An icy chill washes through me at his ominous words, colder than the ghosts who haunt this manor. Before, that might have scared me. Even more, after being hunted by the cruelest of humankind, I should be tired of it.
Yet I feel nothing but a small thrill and… comfort. Somehow, Zade has managed to warp our cat and mouse game. Now, I find solace in the knowledge that he will always find me. And knowing this… despite me not being quite ready for him yet—it makes me want to run.
