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But I didn't.
Instead, what I'm feeling… Well, it's dangerously close to somethinggood.
Something like love. I shouldn't fall in love with the monster who hurt me as a kid. So surely that means Sam isn't him. I want to believe that so badly, but what if I’m wrong? What does it say about me? No matter how I look at it, I’m screwed.
I’m either falling in love with the monster in my memories, or I’m making a monster out of a completely innocent man. Both options are as horrendous as each other.
Eventually, I end up in Sam’s office, though I’m still not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for. As if a man who, until recently shared his home with a wife and small child, would keep incriminating evidence around for just anyone to find. Surely there would be something, though, if he is the man that I think he is. A stray note, a lock of hair, some vaguely evil feeling in the air that solidifies everything Iknow.
But there's nothing.
Of course, there isn't.
Monsters are much better at hiding things from you when you're all grown up.
Huffing a frustrated breath, I leave his office, closing the door with a quiet 'click.' I don’t want to leave yet, but I know I shouldn't linger for long. Sam’s bedroom is down the hall and I go to it, twisting the handle and opening the door as quietly as I'm able to.
Inside, he's sound asleep. His back is slightly turned from the door, one arm above the blankets, snoring away. I bite my lower lip and creep farther inside, just to get a look at his face. With the mask off, maybe I'll be able to recognize something and know once and for all who he is.
He looks so peaceful, and sogood, like a man not capable of hurting someone the way I’ve been hurt. There're no frown lines on his face, his mouth is slightly open, a little puddle of drool gathered beneath his chin. How can this man be the same one that ignored what I went through? How can he have possibly deserved everything I've done to him?
Remorse comes for me with the steady rise of bile from the pit of my stomach. Disgusted with myself, I turn away and make for the door, the floorboards creaking beneath my foot as I make my escape.
Fuck.
“Chloe?”
I stop in my tracks at the sound of his voice. Slowly, I turn around, taking in the sight of him sitting up in bed, his bare, muscular chest and dishevelled hair sending my hormones into overdrive. I force myself to meet his gaze, eyes confused and hazy with sleep, if only to stop myself thinking about how sexy he looks.
“What are you doing here?” He is more alert now and the anger seeping into his tone is unmistakable. But as annoyed as he is, there’s also relief in his voice that I wasn’t expecting. It’s almost like he’s worried about me. “You haven’t been in class, and you’ve been ignoring my calls,” he grumbles. “I’ve been so worried about you.”
He stands up, not caring in the slightest that he’s completely naked.
Shit.
How can I think straight while he’s standing there, looking so sexy like that?
“Chloe?”
“I’m…” I swallow, not even sure what to say. I can’t tell him the truth when I don’t even know what’s going on anymore. “I wanted to see you.”
It’s not a lie. As much as I’ve been trying to ignore the pull and trying to stay away from him, I have wanted to see him so bad.
“Chloe…” He sighs, his tone defeated. “What the fuck are you doing to me?” he murmurs, almost to himself.
He stalks over to me and grabs hold of my wrist. For a moment I think he’s going to kick me out, but then I’m pressed against him, staring into those stunning eyes.
Blueeyes. Sam has blue eyes.
Not green, like they are in my nightmares.
“Did you come here to force yourself on me again?”
His rough words surprise me, but not as much as his sudden kiss. I suck in a breath as his lips explore mine, his hand locking on my jaw in a firm grip. Ripples stir through my stomach as he looks at me like he can’t resist me. He kisses me again, the erection pressing against my thigh telling me exactly how turned on he is.
The feeling of helplessness that sweeps through me is confusing for how much I like it. How much I like how he pulls me against him and then turns us, shoving me down onto the bed. For all he talks aboutmeforcing myself onhim,there's no coercion at all as he prowls over me like a beast and pins me down.
He'sneverbeen the one to start things like this. His eyes burn into me as he shoves my clothes just out of the way enough for his mouth to find my bare shoulder and suck, his hands greedy as they push my thighs apart.
