Chapter 31 #3
He flicked my nose with fondness. “Of course. But then I saw you. The real you. My scarred beauty. You, my little criminal, became so much more than a toy that I envied. You hooked me to your scars. Your burns. Your capacity to endure pain. The strength you had to overcome the aftermath and become a monster that slaughtered the vermin of the world.”
A lump lodged itself in my throat as I sat naked on this man and listened to him. Soaked up his words that were a balm to my bruised soul. Because he seemed to understand every one of my expressions, he rubbed my thigh and asked, “You still want to hear more?”
I nodded, downright hungry for his words.
He gave me an indulgent smile. “To answer your questions on what I am doing with you, I am obsessing over you. I want to know what you’re doing, what you’re feeling, every second of every day, no matter how exciting or mundane.
I want to stalk you, chase you, hunt you, fuck you.
Now, what I want from you is for you to let me do all of it. ”
He circled his hand around my throat and pulled me into a searing kiss. He gave a small nip to my bottom lip and, with a knowing smirk, said, “If I’m not wrong, and I never am, you love that I’m obsessed with you, don’t you?”
My throat was parched. But I managed to give him a nod, my eyes swimming with desire while shame and pleasure coiled low in my belly.
“Words, darling.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He clutched my throat and made me look into his eyes. They were dark pools of possession and want. “Makes you feel powerful, doesn’t it? That a man could become so pathetic to follow you around, sneak behind a fucking bush, stalk you, break into your apartment, all for a glimpse of you.”
I bit my lip and couldn’t help but roll my hips on his abs, relieving the ache building back in my core. “I love it. Yes. But…”
He nipped at my jaw. “But?”
“I hate that I love it so much,” I said, the memories of the agony I’d suffered because of the depth of my need to be admired. Adored. Obsessed over.
His hand tightened around my throat. “Explain.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed myself off his chest. But before I could climb out of his lap, he pulled me back. “You’ll stay here.” His needy, possessive behavior was breaking me apart at the seams, and I didn’t fucking want to stop.
A blushing smile slipped across my lips. “Just let me get the comforter. I need it around me if you want to hear the explanation.”
He scowled but then grabbed it and wrapped me in a burrito on his lap. That warm gush of feeling, that safety that I’d craved from the marrow of my bones, enveloped me in a cocoon, and I knew it wasn’t the comforter that was responsible for this feeling.
Knox looked at me with patience, not uttering a word. I took a deep breath, preparing for the onslaught of pain that always arrived every time I talked about it. “Well…” I gulped. “You’ve seen what happened.”
“Some asshole splashed acid on your face and arm.” His words were so matter-of-fact, void of pity or softness, they managed to roll over me instead of hitting me in the heart.
I smiled. “Yes. That asshole was once my stalker.”
Understanding dawned on his face.
I nodded. “You think I love being obsessed over now, but I was a slut for attention. I loved myself. My face. My tits. My ass. My hair. My grades. My clothes. Superficial, much? Right?”
A soft smile came over his face.
I clutched his hand in mine for the next part.
“I am the daughter of an immigrant South Asian dad and a Caucasian mom. I got my dad's color but my mom's delicate features. My dad was away for most of the week for work in Chicago, leaving us behind in New Jersey. He spent the weekends at home with Mom and me. My mom was also a working woman, but her need for personal time and affairs left her little time for me. Growing up was lonely. At least I wasn’t bullied in school. In fact, call it my confidence and the way I carried myself, but I didn’t lack attention from boys.”
He grunted, jealousy evident in his scowl.
“God, I sound so fucking vain. But I loved it. I needed it. I loved it when two boys fought over who would sit beside me at lunch. As I grew up, my need for attention turned darker. Instead of the boys who gave me outright attention, I started to notice the boys who sneaked glances. The ones who stared at me from afar. Who tried to hide their obsession with me. That was so much more thrilling. Their need for me was so much stronger. It was like drugs injected straight into my veins.”
I met Knox’s eyes, the nightmare of my past slowly creeping in. “But the higher you climb, the lower you crash.”
“What happened?” he asked, rubbing his arm over my burrito body.
I shook my head, rolling my eyes at the naive, insecure, attention-starved me.
“Well, I grew up. Spent my years loving the attention of men, dangling myself like bait for them, but never giving in. I could never keep a boyfriend for long, could I? I hated not being able to enjoy other men’s attention.
“It was a little over five years ago. I’d joined a new company as a data scientist. It was good money.
I lived alone. But there was a man at work.
He was handsome enough. But he was my manager.
Forbidden. Did I deliberately try to gain his attention?
Kinda. Call it getting the boss’s favor for promotion or my fucked-up need for attention.
I flirted a little. Dressed up nice, of course. ”
Knox looked at me with absolutely no judgment on his face.
Like I wasn’t a total bitch and an attention slut who toyed with men for my pleasure.
I swallowed and continued, “Did I corner him when I found him staring at me, sneaking glances at me? No. Did I stop him when I realized he was following me, stalking me, on my way home? No. It scared me a little, but it thrilled me more. The fact that he was going through all that effort, obsession, crossing all the moral boundaries because he couldn’t fucking help it. It made me feel powerful.
“But then, he asked me out. He had just given me a raise and had been following me around for over six months. I know, it sounds bad. And it is fucking bad. But I said no. I finally told him to stop following me around. That it wasn’t ever going to happen.
I knew he wasn’t turning me on, giving me that fucking high.
It was the lengths he was going to that turned me on. Well, after that, you can imagine…”
He nodded. “He didn’t take it so well.”
I chuckled sadly. “Not well at all. He followed me on my way back home and started crying and yelling on the sidewalk, saying that if I can’t be his, he won’t let anyone else have me. And then, splashed the bottle of acid on my face.”
His chest expanded on a loud breath, and he pulled me into his arms, wrapping me into his warm chest.