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My vision swims again as I try my best to keep myself upright, the effort it’s taking me to try and break these fucking shutters is exhausting. My head is killing me already, I know I’m going to have the mother of all hangovers tomorrow. The rage is the only thing keeping me fueled at the moment. He thought I was so calm while he explained everything to me. Like being sold like a piece of meat is normal. I don’t know what’s worse, the fact my father did it, or that my mother left without a fight. This just proved to me that nobody in this godforsaken place gives a shit about anyone else, other than what they can do for said person.
“Shadow?” He calls me again. Every time I hear his voice it pushes my anger to a new level. He’s just as bad as the rest of them, he didn’t put up much of a fight with his brother and the others when they dumped me here, and if they think I’m going to accept the fact that this is my life, they can all fuck right off!
I grab the stool that’s clattered to the floor after my last attempt to break the shutter, my upper lip curling up in a snarl like it’s offended me. My arms tremble as I lift it the best I can. Exhaustion has swept over me, and determination is the only thing that has me pulling it up off the floor with another snarl. I swing it over my shoulder like a bat, then set my shoulders, my hands shaking violently now as I try to steady myself. With a roar, I throw it with all the strength I can muster. As soon as it’s out of my hands, I stumble back, slipping to the floor, and landing with a thud on my ass. I scream as pain roars through me, and a pulsing in my head has me looking at a crimson pool beginning to seep across the floor. I stare, mesmerized, as it shines brilliantly against the white tiles.
“Shit,” Kylo hisses, pulling me off the floor.
I’m against his chest as he walks deeper into the kitchen, my eyes locked on the puddle of blood on the floor, with drops leading to us. I chuckle, because they remind me of red-liquid versions of the breadcrumbs Hansel and Gretel used for a trail.
“What’re you doing?”
I look to him, my eyes scanning his face. His eyes are dark, the weird thing is he hasn’t blinked once since I looked at him. He pulls at my hand, and I hiss as a stabbing pain shoots through it as he examines the area. I pull my hand out of his grasp, clutching it to my chest, glaring daggers at him.
“Let me check your hand, Shadow!” he demands with a command.
I glare back at him, gritting my teeth, even though my core clenches at the sound. I don’t know what it is with him, but every time he makes that sound, my center jumps to attention like an obedient animal waiting on its master’s command. He yanks my hand back into his, moving closer to see better. I watch as his hair flops into his eyes, he keeps looking up at me every couple of seconds. “You don’t need stitches, thank fuck.”
My brows furrow as he points at me with narrowed eyes. The command is clear.
As he dashes out of the room, I sit on the island, immobile as I stare after him. My head’s ringing now, and a sharp pain stabs me in the back of the eye. I rub my forehead, trying to ease some of the pressure building.
“Here,” he rumbles, passing me a glass of water that’s in his hand. I eye it suspiciously, and he chuffs a laugh. “It’s water, you’re pissed and you’re going to be hungover tomorrow.”
I grab the glass, realizing as I start drinking it how parched I really was. Why the fuck does alcohol do this to us? He places a first aid kit down on the countertop, opening it up and pulling out everything he needs, setting to cleaning the wound and packing me up. He even goes as far as getting a magnifying glass out.
“What’re you doing?” I ask, trying my best to keep my head from rolling back because of the pounding headache.
“I’m making sure your drunken ass hasn’t got any glass in your hand,” he says like he’s talking to a petulant child. I tug on my hand again, my teeth grinding at the way he’s treating me. We have a battle for a second when I notice the blood welling up to the surface and my stomach rolls. I’m not normally squeamish, but something at the moment has vomit hitting the back of my throat. I lean over the island to the sink, pulling my hand free. I only just get my head over the sink, then I’m heaving my guts up.
The contents of my stomach feel like it’s burning my throat on the way out, and tears leak from the corners of my eyes. My hair falls into my face, I try to flick it over my shoulder but it keeps dropping down. A soft caress pulls the hair out of my face and holds it behind my back.
“That’s it, Shadow, cough it up,” he mutters, rubbing circles on my back. The comforting feeling isn’t as repulsive to me as I thought it would be. I’ve been throwing up for a good five minutes, my stomach now empty as it protests at the painful dry heaving. I inhale slow, deep breaths to calm my racing heart and to try and stop the rolling of my stomach. I sit up straight, not daring to turn and face him. I’m mortified he’s just standing there holding my hair back as I threw my guts up as a result of the alcohol.
“You feeling better?” he asks in a gentle tone, and my brows furrow as I sit up straight.
The pounding in my head has subsided a little. I stare at my hands as my cheeks flame bright red with embarrassment, sweat coats my brow and leaves a trail down my spine, the anger I’m feeling still simmering under the surface.
“What the hell is your deal?” I say, my mood changing again. I don’t get him, I’ve never known anyone who can change their mood as quickly as I can. “How the fuck can you think this is normal?” My skin buzzes as I remember the reason why I’m stuck in this house with him.
“For fuck’s sake, when are you going to get it through that pretty thick skull of yours?!” he snaps, throwing his hands up in the air, pushing himself away from the island. He stuffs what is left of the first aid kit back in its bag, muttering under his breath so low I can’t hear him. He swipes the empty packets on the top into a trash bin that he pulled out of nowhere. “You’re mine and I will do everything I can to keep you safe.”
“What part of, I don’t need saving, don’t you understand?!” I demand, jumping down off the island, getting in his face. My heart races in my chest as I glare at him with my hands on my hips. “God, why couldn’t you have just butted out and left me the fuck alone?”
“Because I’m obsessed with you!” he roars, his own chest rising rapidly. “You’re in my every fucking thought, I can’t sleep without seeing your face. You’re everywhere.”
“Keep me out of your mind then,” I scream back. “You’re the one so dead set on trying to make something out of nothing. But this is plain fucking wrong.”
“You think it’s that fucking simple?” he bellows. “I’ve never had these thoughts or anything for anyone. I was perfectly happy being on my own.”
“It is that simple, put me in whatever warped little box you have in your head and forget all about me,” I snap. “It’s not that fucking hard, you psycho.”
He rushes forward, pinning me to the wall. I yelp as pain radiates up my spine. The darkness in his eyes is wild as he looks me over like he wants to eat me. “It’s not that simple, Shadow. I’ve never had anyone in my life that makes this monster I know I have lurking under my skin feel violent.”
My heart is galloping in my chest, for the first time I can see the darkness that he houses, and it both thrills and terrifies me. But I know this is never going to happen, so why can’t he just accept it? Just rip the band aid off and let it heal on its own.
“I’m not your savior, Kylo, you can’t expect me to be,” I admit, the words tight in my chest. I wasn’t enough to save my brother and I haven’t been able to save myself since then.
“I don’t want you to save me, Shadow,” he purrs, pressing himself closer to me. His whole body is flush with mine, his knee between my legs. “I want you to fall into the darkness with me and become who you’re meant to be.”
