Chapter Twenty Five
Cruel Discoveries, Cracking Hearts, and Cold Realizations
Elliot
When his words finally pierce through the haze, my body stills.
Vigilante Wolf Hunter
So close to catching this bastard.
It can’t be. It cannot be. Not now, not when I don’t have anything to run for. Not when I really, really don’t want to run.
I look at Nicholas’s relaxed body, his long lashes falling on his cheeks. Just a few seconds ago, all I wanted was to rub my face against that stubble. His arms around me encase me in his warmth.
Just like he always does. So possessive. So protective.
It’s all my fault, letting myself believe this could be something. That I’d made a clean escape. That I could ever escape. That he’d protect me. Save me.
That I could be saved in the first place.
Suddenly, the warmth feels too much. I need to get away. I try to remove his arm from my hips, needing space.
To think. To plan.
He stirs, and I freeze. His hand comes around me again, pulling me in until he’s half lying on me. His face buried in my neck, his soft, even breath against my skin. His weight is just on the right side of too heavy. My body relaxes, betraying me like it always does with him.
I lie there, no opening to escape unless I’m willing to wake him up. He’s a light sleeper, probably because of the heightened senses. If he wakes up, he’ll want to talk about it, or worse, he'll want to have sex. And I can’t take that intimacy right now.
Not when I have to think.
This was never supposed to happen. How did it all go so wrong, so quickly? It was casual. Walking away wasn’t just supposed to be easy, it was going to be inevitable. Then why does it feel like he’d just ripped my heart out with his claws and squashed it?
My heart sinks in my chest, like it’s physically breaking. My eyes itch. I swallow, trying to bury it all for later.
Later, when I’m safe. The idea that I could be safe anywhere else other than right fucking here, surrounded by Nicholas, seems laughable.
It may be true because I was never safe. Not really. I convinced myself I was. That this man wants me enough to overlook everything.
He likes me. A lot. I don’t doubt that, even though he tries to hide it. But he’s bad at it, like really bad at it. For one, he can’t stop touching me if I’m within reach. He takes care of me like he feels I’m his responsibility, or at least tries to when I let him.
But all that’s because he doesn’t know the truth.
Fucking Vigilante Wolf Hunter.
The fact that I don’t feel flattered they gave me a badass name for my alter ego shows how fucked I truly am. The tears come then, and no amount of swallowing my feelings stops them. Maybe I can let myself have this for just one night.
This false sense of safety. This pretend domesticity of sleeping in someone’s arms. Someone who could have cared for me in another life. Someone who I could let myself like, or let’s be honest, more than that. A lot more than that.
If only I were someone different, someone normal. If he were someone… no, he’s perfect. Too perfect.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer. He murmurs something against my skin and drops a kiss on my collarbone before his body goes slack again.
The tears don’t stop. Luckily, my soft sniffs don’t wake him. I don’t know how long I lie there, memorizing the feeling of his skin against mine. The cords of his biceps. The pattern of his breath. Until my eyes close of their own accord.
“You could have stabbed him. Would have just taken seconds. Seriously, Elli boy.” The Werewolf shakes his head in disappointment.
I look around me. I’m in the passenger seat of a car. Then I notice the body of the drug dealer slumped in the driver's seat. Why is it so cold?
I look down at my hands holding two Wendy’s cups. My hands are small, barely holding on to the cups. I push them together before they fall off.
Don’t want to leave evidence. I try to switch off the air conditioner, but the buttons don’t work.
“You’re so weak. I don’t know why I wasted so much time on you,” The Werewolf says.
I ignore him. I need to get out of here. It’s an open parking lot. Anyone could come at any time. It’s late, and the streetlights are broken. The darkness engulfs our surroundings so much that I can’t see anything outside.
There’s still light in the car, though. Somehow.
I gently place the cups in the cup holders and start cleaning the scene.
“You think you’re better than me? Just because, what? You’re selective about who you kill? All you are is a killer, Elli boy. Just like me.” The Werewolf laughs. It’s scarier than I remember. I don’t have the time to analyze that right now, though. I need to run.
Once I’m sure there’s no trace of me ever being here, I pick the cups back up in my tiny hands. I feel like I’ll freeze to death just like Drew if I stay here any longer.
“He really thinks he can escape? I thought he was supposed to be smart.”
My hands freeze, the cups drop with a splatter.
That voice. I know that voice. I used to like that voice. It still sounds light, but there’s a note of viciousness deep down.
I don’t dare to turn. I can’t.
“Elliot? You can’t escape me. You’re mine, remember?”
I want to be his so desperately. I turn then, and Nicholas’s face comes into focus. It’s him, but his incisors are sharp, his claws are out and bloody.
My heartbeat picks up. “No, no, no, no,” I mumble.
The Werewolf laughs. “He’s so weak,” he repeats.
Nicholas nods. “You’re not going anywhere,” he says. “Elliot.”
I push the door open, but my foot misses the ground, and I’m falling.
“Elliot.”
“No, no, no, no,” I mumble.
“Elliot.” Nicholas’s voice doesn’t sound vicious anymore. Just concerned. Urgent.
I feel warmth engulfing me. I soak it in. Letting it seep deep inside me so I’m never that cold again.
“Elliot.” This time, his voice is soft. I feel a warm breath against my forehead.
I’m soaked in sweat and tears. My face must be red and blotchy.
I don’t want to open my eyes. Because that would mean facing reality. Facing him.
“Elliot?” he whispers and I slowly open my eyes. Nicholas’s face is hovering over me. He smiles small when his gaze meets mine. I flinch unconsciously.
“You okay?” he asks.
I swallow.
He pulls back, his arms slipping from around me. I miss the contact already.
“You need water?” he asks. I can see him curling in on himself to make himself look non-threatening.
It makes me hate myself. But I say nothing, just wait for my heart to stop beating out of my chest and my breath to calm down. It was stupid of me to forget I’m broken. Completely. Irreparably.
How can I let myself believe I can have a healthy relationship with someone like him? Someone who’ll always have so much power over me. And not just because he’s stronger.
Stupid of me to feel safe when I have no control here.
Nicholas pads to the kitchen, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath. The bed still smells like him. He’s everywhere. I can’t seem to escape.
I take the glass of water he brings to my trembling hand and gulp it down. He doesn’t help, just stands a little distance away. His face uncertain, his body gloriously shirtless in the backdrop of faint light streaming through the windows.
Not the time to lust after Nicholas’s abs, Elliot.
I sigh after I’ve placed the glass on the side table. “What time is it?” I ask, my voice comes out all throaty.
Nicholas checks his phone. “Seven thirty,” he says.
That’s surprising. The nightmares wake me earlier than this. But the fact remains, I clearly let myself get too comfortable, leaving myself open to this awkwardness. Now that I think of it, I’ve clearly been slacking off. No wonder Nicholas is close to finding out the truth.
Time to build the walls back up. There’s no point in repairing this anyway, so I ignore the expression on Nicholas’s face. I don’t think I’ll be able to go through with what I need to do if I look at him right now.
I step off the bed and pad towards the bathroom. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep,” I say over my shoulder. I need some time to get myself together, then I can do what I should have done the minute I realized this wasn’t casual anymore.
I slump against the door once it’s closed. I was right about my face being hideous and embarrassing.
That’s safer to focus on. Getting myself together. I decide I need a shower.
After I’ve cleaned myself satisfactorily, I wear my boxer briefs, regretting that I didn’t think of storing clothes in the bathroom. Seems a little inappropriate to break up almost naked. Not that it is a breakup when there was no relationship to begin with.
When I come out of the bathroom with my game face on, Nicholas is all dressed up, standing at the door. “I have to hurry out. Just got a call from Serena. Sorry,” he says. He looks genuinely apologetic, not like he’s trying to escape the inevitable. Not that he would know what’s coming.
This may be better—a cleaner break.
I nod. “Okay.”
He stalks back inside and pulls me into him. I go easily.
The heat of his mouth against mine calms something in me. I close my eyes and focus on the softness of his lips, the way he kisses, so hungry but so gentle. I try to memorize everything, his face, his eagerness, his arms pulling me against him as if he never wants to let go.
For the first time in my life, I don't want to either. So, I break it first, stepping back.
“We’ll talk about it. Tonight, okay?” His intense eyes focus on me.
My throat goes dry. It’s too much. I still nod.
He leans in and drops a kiss on my forehead, then he’s off.
I stand frozen for a long time, letting the warmth of his body, the feel of his lips sear into my skin, my bones. Because I know I’ll never feel it again.