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Every barrier.
Every strategically placed defense.
Every part of me that I’ve kept hidden.
She’s seen me. Open and emotionally vulnerable, a place of weakness I loathe, yet she stayed. Not ridiculing me, or worse, pitying me. Instead, she showed compassion.
Something I lack.
Something I want more of.
Only from her.
Although she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Calista’s nurturing, caring side is what I find most attractive. It’s what has drawn me to her since the beginning even though I’ve tried again and again to dismiss her. Despite my efforts, I yearn for what she gives with a hunger that ravages me daily.
Hourly.
Every fucking second.
It’s what propelled me to comfort her in this office. During work hours, no less. And she’s the first.
I thought her panic attack triggered my automatic response, the one rooted in me due to my past. Except it wasn’t. Iwantedto help her.
As perplexed as I was by my behavior, the pleasure I received from it confounded me even more. There was no disgust. Not only that, but I enjoyed holding and consoling Calista.
It soothed me in a way I’ve never felt.
And I never would’ve stopped if she hadn’t left.
I’ve become addicted to her. I know this and won’t deny it any longer. But what I can’t come to terms with is my need for her. How strong it is.
How all-encompassing.
She has obliterated my control. Like a vortex, she pulls me to her, leaving behind my goals and desires—even my need for justice—until nothing exists except her.
I haven’t killed anyone since the day she buried her father.
Well, except Jim. But that was for Calista, not me.
Rules bring about law and order, a peace to chaos, and a punishment to crime. The justice system isn’t always just, which is why I don’t feel the need to operate within it. My motivations are my own.
Just like my code of ethics. These maintain my sanity, provide stability, and give me purpose. They’re also a warning, an echo of my past. The events of my childhood sliced into me like a knife, cutting away weakness with every stabbing of the blade and every drop of blood spilled.
Even so, my need to right the wrongs of society doesn’t drive me, doesn’t ignite me the way Calista does with a mere glance. And when she smiles?
Fuck. Me.
I would do anything to have her look at me that way.
ANYTHING.
I drop my head and massage my temples, squeezing the hell out of my skull as if that’ll relieve my mind from these tumultuous thoughts.
It doesn’t help. Nothing does.
Except being with her.
Even knowing this, I want to push Calista away. I have many secrets, but I revealed the one that means the most. The one that weighs heaviest on me.
