AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His face changes, becoming harder. “Maybe you are just naïve, Irelynn.” His mask slips fully into place as his arrogant smile spreads. “This is who I am. The cold-hearted, callous bastard who only cares about himself.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I step closer, one eyebrow cocked. “Are you trying to convince me of that… or yourself?”
His mask slips, his true face blanching beneath it. He recovers quickly, a disgusted snort coming from him, waving his hand dismissively. “You’d like to believe that, wouldn’t you, Irelynn? But you’re forgetting I’m the monster keeping you hostage. I’m the one who ripped you from your world.”
His remarks are biting, cutting me deeply. He is all of those things. But it’s more complicated than that.
I’m standing in front of a broken man, nearly certain he’s suffering from antisocial personality disorder from the years of abuse he suffered at the hands of his father, traumatized by his mother’s murder and subsequent death that he witnessed, and then shuffled off to boarding schools and therapists. The scorn, the contempt, and the smugness are all coping devices he uses to protect himself.
It would be easier if I could make him the bad guy in my story. And yet… I can’t.
He’s not the hero in my story, but he’s also not the villain. Things are never black and white, that would be too easy. What is hard is the murky middle, the various shades of gray between the dark and the light.
For too long, I’ve looked for the shadows instead of standing in the sun. But that’s where the growth lies—when you’re no longer afraid of the dusk because your light burns bright enough to illuminate the darkness.
I don’t run when things get complicated. I endure.
Outwardly, I don’t budge, nor do I flinch. “You can use whatever defense mechanism you desire to protect yourself; you can push everyone away from you, and you can paint yourself as the villain all you want, Will. Convince yourself, if that’s what you need to do.” I move even closer, so I’m encroaching into his personal space. “But you know what you can’t do?” I pause as he stares at me expectantly, waiting. “You can’t change my mind.”
Silence descends over the room as we engage in a heated stare down. He wants me to break, but I don’t.I refuse.
He shakes his head, a hand going through his hair. “I’m not the hero in this story, Irelynn. I’ve never wanted that role.”
His words echo my earlier thought, and I nod. “I know you aren’t. But you’re not the villain, either.” I square my shoulders. “Trauma has wounded you, and it’s easier to protect yourself if you never let anyone in.”
Before I can react, his hands cup my face and his head lowers, his lips on mine. I stand there, frozen, my mind whirling, trying to process what in the hell is going on.
Push him away!
My hands shove against his chest, and he instantly stops, stepping back. His head lowers from his shame, his body posture crumbling.
I open my mouth, but he holds up a hand. Shutting it, I stand there awkwardly, wrapping my arms around myself.
After what feels like an eternity, he clears his throat. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His tone cracks. “I’m sorry.” He steps around me, walking across the room.
“Will?” Slowly moving closer, I wait for him to turn around.
The key turns in the lock, startling me. I turn as Emma steps inside, her smile warm when her gaze locks on mine, followed by a taller brown-haired guy carrying two coffees. I narrow my eyes, my brows wrinkling in confusion as I stare at him.
Isn’t he the guy who grinded on me at William’s party? And William came to my rescue, punching him.
His eyes meet mine and after a few beats, a chagrined smile crosses his face.
Emma doesn’t seem to notice the looks we are exchanging. She proudly squeezes his arm. “Irelynn, this is my son, Bryan. Bryan, this is Irelynn.”
Before he can open his mouth, my sharp tone cuts through the room. “We’ve met before, but were never formally introduced.”
He nods, not saying anything, then looks over at William, who has an ‘oh shit’ look on his face.
Yeah, buddy, it’s about to get worse. I snatch my coffee from Bryan’s outstretched hand, giving him a curt, “Thank you,” then stomp right over to William, getting in his face. “Are you shitting me? You set that up, didn’t you? To look like the hero and impress me?”
William has the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “Yes, I did. But Irelynn, I was also an eighteen-year-old boy in high school.”
“Did you spike my alcohol that night? Get me purposefully drunk and—”
“No,” he roars, his temper flaring, gritting his teeth. “You want to rehash this shit again? You never fucking believe a word I say anyway.”
He steps around me, plucking his coffee from Bryan’s hand. He angrily takes a drink as I bore holes in his back, rage flowing through my veins like fire.
