Chapter 31
Mila
Nova is…insane.
Literally.
In the short time we ’ ve spent together, I watched her obsessively organize her designer boots—she has a preposterous amount of them. Her dorm room looks more like a sterile ward in a psych hospital than a place where a young twenty-something sleeps and enjoys life. She actually bleached some of the walls, but when the fumes became too much for me to endure, she hissed as if annoyed and stopped.
Then she tries to clean and organize my room. It ’ s totally a waste of time, but trying to tell her that is impossible. Nova is a wrecking ball—destructive and unstoppable.
Exactly what I need. What I wish I could be.
Her influence is so off-kilter that it has a gravity of its own. I find myself clinging to her, studying her, and secretly wanting to embody her.
Am I developing a girl crush? Shh... don ’ t tell Dash.
Nova can survive this world; hell, she ’ ll rule parts of it once she ’ s old enough.
One look at me, and she knows I ’ m a weak girl who has let men control her entire life. I see the disgust in her eyes when I stutter in fear this morning after knocking on her door. I also catch a gleaming sparkle, like I ’ m a new toy she wants to play with.
So I let her play with me. Maybe I ’ m falling back into the role of being a doll, but I try to learn from it. I want to taste what it ’ s like to be Nova—a strong, badass bitch who tells Dash King he interrupted her beauty sleep.
Who does that? No woman I ’ ve ever met. Every girl at school falls at Dash ’ s feet. Nova lights a match and sets fire to his soles instead.
Nova steps into my life like a fairy godmother, but instead of giving me a dress and glass slippers, she stomps on the glass shoes, teaches me how to walk on the shards without feeling the pain, and then tries to shove a pair of combat boots onto my feet instead. She hands me red lip gloss, tells me to let my hair down and go braless, and... influences me to break a lot of stuff.
I swallow, unsure if I should check myself into a clinic or just laugh at the scene in front of me. Our entire living room floor is covered in broken dishes. In defense, Nova told me to break them one by one. I emptied the entire kitchen cabinet.
“ That did feel good.” My laugh fades into a smile. I ’ ve never done anything like this. Each plate or cup I threw onto our floor felt like a shaking of my cage.
Glancing at Nova, I have this desire to be more like her. I want to be strong, unpredictable, and confident enough to make Dash bend a knee.
Right before we started breaking all our dishes, Nova punched me in the shoulder. Then she told me I was used to rolling with the punches—she was right—and advised me to start throwing the punches.
“ You ’ re going to be a bad influence, aren ’ t you?” I add.
Her smile grows as she crosses her arms. “ Calling me bad is an insult to the evil mastermind inside my mind. I ’ m going to burn down everything you think you know. There will be nothing left but ashes, so many ashes falling like snow. I ’ ll make a little snow angel in them. Don ’ t worry, though, because, from those ashes, I ’ ll sculpt you up like a fine piece of clay.”
◆◆◆
I walk around Dash ’ s bedroom, gliding my finger over his dresser. There is nothing in this room that relates to him. It ’ s a blank canvas, void of his personality. He always hides it from the world, just like he ’ s hiding now.
The King men have been gone for three weeks. Usually, when they disappear, I bury myself in my art, but I ’ ve been enjoying my time with my roommate. As much as I want to embody her strength, I also find myself wanting to help her. Nova is an incredible, complex person, and I know within those layers, she is hiding a very broken soul.
I can ’ t help it. I always want to help creatures, whether they are defenseless kittens or snarling beasts with claws. It ’ s my weakness.
Per Dash ’ s demands, though, I am ordered to sleep at their mansion house when he ’ s out of town. Nova recommends I burn it to the ground. I smirk, thinking about how serious she was when she told me that.
Instead, I find myself obeying it, only to curl into Dash ’ s sheets each night. But tonight, I can ’ t sleep; questions keep me up—what ifs?
What if I never agreed to help Dash when we met in high school?
What if I had succeeded in running away when he was gone? Would he have come looking for me, or would I remain a blip in the wind?
What if…he ’ s hurt right now?
I grab my phone—it ’ s still the phone Dante gave me—and scroll through all their names—the men who each have a piece of my heart. I call Dash just like I have every night he ’ s been gone. He never answers, but I know he ’ s screening my calls because a minute later, either Titan or Damian calls me back.
“ What?” Dash seethes when he picks up.
“ You…you answered.” I grip the edge of the dresser in shock.
“ Consider this a win. You pestered me enough.”
Walking to his bed, I sit down and curl my legs up. “ Where are you?” Do you miss me?
He pauses before he replies, “ In Italy with Dante.”
He ’ s speaking, which means he ’ s crumbling. He only responds when he needs me. I miss the days when we used to shower together. The distant conversations help dull the ache, but they never fully erase it.
“ Oh,” I breathe a sigh of relief. “ Tell Dante I say hi.”
“ What do you want?” He huffs in frustration.
“ You,” I whisper. “ When are you coming back?”
“ It ’ s a need-to-know basis.”
“ Please,” I mutter as I lay down, sinking into his mattress, “ I miss you.” How can we share such an explosion of passion only to be left with frozen embers too weak to melt the ice again?
“ Do you miss me?” I ask.
His breathing deepens. “ You should be sleeping. It ’ s one a.m. your time.”
I want you to crawl back to me, but here I am calling you like I ’ m sulking, wasting my days waiting for you. That ’ s what he wants, me tucked in his bed, missing him.
Do something different. Provoke him.
Throw a punch like Nova suggested.
“ I miss you.” Tempt him, break him open again. I press my palm against my hot stomach. “ I need you, Dash.” I moan as my hand slides down my belly. “ So bad.”
Am I embarrassed? Yes. I ’ ve never done this, but I embraced being a temptress.
“ What are you doing?” He snarls with annoyance.
Be brave . “ Touching myself as I lay in your bed.”
“ Mila…” he warns, but his lust seeps through the phone, feeding my newly found confidence.
“ Do you ever touch yourself and think of me?”
“ No.” He bites. That hurts, but I repel it. He ’ s trying to push me away.
“ Liar,” I reply. “ I do it all the time when I shower. I remember when you used to lick my body clean, wash away all my sins. I ’ m covered in them now. Only you can make me feel clean again.”
My breath is husky as I slip my hand into my pajama pants.“You should try it.”
“ I ’ m warning you, Mila.”
“ I ’ m wet and aching for you, Dash. God, it hurts so bad. Make it stop.” I hiss in pain, my voice thick with emotions.
He hates it when my suffering isn ’ t caused by him. Dash craves control, so how will he snap when I take it from him?
His breath is sharp; he hisses and exhales like a steam engine screaming as it fails to break before it crashes.
“ Tell me what to do to stop the ache, Dash.” I swipe my fingers through my opening.
“ How wet are you?” He whispers so softly I almost miss it.
A grin pains my cheeks as I smile widely. It ’ s working. Little by little, I ’ ll get him back, and one day, he will tell me he loves me.
“ Soaking. I ’ m staining your bedsheets.”
His footsteps increase, and then a door closes. “ Sink your finger inside, just one. Pump yourself slowly.”
Obeying him, I push one finger inside. “ I need more,” I need him, his thick hardness filling me, taking away all this empty nothingness in my soul.
“ You ’ ll get what I give. One finger.” I squirm on his bed, trying to feed the hungry beast in my core. “ That ’ s it. Slow and steady. How does it feel?”
My head lulls to the side. “ It ’ s not enough.” I exhale in frustration.
I hear his smirk, “ It will never be enough, little fox. You always want more than I can give, but you made a bargain and promised to live with the consequences. You can only have my shadows, my darkness. That ’ s all I am.”
No. You still have a light inside of you; it ’ s trying to keep me safe. One day, I ’ ll break through your walls and let it shine. You ’ ll love me in the open, enemies or no enemies. You will not fear what loving me will do to our future.
“ So give me more.” I circle my throbbing nerves and moan deeply as I arch my back.
“ Did I tell you to do that?”
“ Come stop me.” I add another finger and try to take control. “ Touch yourself, Dash. I can ’ t last long.” I start to ride my hand.
“ Stop!”
“ How hard are you? Does it match my pain? Oh god, yes!” I gasp when I start to pump myself deeper. “ You want to control me? Then love me openly, and I ’ ll bow down to you. I ’ ll do whatever you want, Dash. Anything.”
My breathing becomes frantic, and I purr in satisfaction when his breath races faster than mine. I visualize it: his back pressed against a wall, his throbbing hardness in his palm as he chases his climax with this image of me on his bed.
“ Anything! Yes, yes! Dash harder, oh…” I scream as I turn to silence my shout in his sheets. I scream louder and louder as I beg the fabric to harbor my pleasure and deny him from fully hearing it.
That was…I just did that!
I took control.
Sure, it was through a phone, which was easier than seizing it face-to-face, but one day, I ’ ll be strong enough to look him in the eye as I break him just like he held my gaze as he broke me down.
He roars as he comes, and then only our rapid breaths fill the air. “ Okay,” I murmur, “ Now I can sleep… after I wash the sheets.”
“ Don ’ t you fucking dare!”
I hang up with a lazy grin on my face.
I think I ’ m learning the rules of combat rather well.
◆◆◆
“ Do you ever feel like you made a mistake?” I ask Nova as I sit on her bed and watch her color code her lip glosses into the new acrylic stand she got for them.
“ All the time.” She giggles a soft tune. She has a pretty voice, and the more I try to understand her, the more complex she becomes. She only has a sports bra on, so I get a full view of her back; it ’ s marked with scars and a sword tattoo that runs down her spine. It makes her seem like a warrior born in the wrong era; I think she picked a sword to warn others to stay away, a warning that she is strong and will kill them, but in my eyes, the sword is tragic, a reminder that Nova's trapped in a life she didn't choose.
“ I can practically feel your thoughts clawing at my back, so just ask me what you want to ask. Rip off the bandaid and let me bleed, Mila.” Nova counters. She is guttural like that. She ’ s always gun at the hip, ready to shoot you head-on.
“ I ’ m trying to seduce Dash.” I blurt out as I cross my hands too tightly.
She snorts and looks over her shoulder at me. “ And?”
“ And,” I bite my inner cheek. How would you seduce a man? I need tips. I need a whole playbook! “ I don ’ t know what I ’ m doing?” I need a girl to reference with.
“ Did he come?”
“ What?” I flush red.
“ Oh god, Mila,” Nova rolls her eyes, “ Did his little pee pee get hard and then come? Did he see stars, and more importantly, did you? Did your seduction work, or did he run for the hills?” She mocks.
I bite my lip and snort a giggle as I nod. Nova clearly doesn ’ t like Dash, and vice versa.
“ So, what are you trying to ask me?” Nova huffs. “ If Dash came, then it obviously worked. By the way, where are the King men? The Heirs, as the University refers to them. I need to meet Damian and Titan so I can put faces to the ridiculous rumors.”
“ They ’ re away. Sometimes I wish they would stay away,” I mutter and then regret it. It ’ s a constant push and pull, having them come into my life only to vanish for a month at a time.
“ Do they do that often?”
“ Yeah,”
“ So how did you seduce Dash if he ’ s MIA?”
I glance down. “ Over the phone.”
“ Ugh, I hate phone sex. It ’ s just so much effort on my end.”
But it was worth it.
“ Let me guess,” Nova spins around to face me, “ You had phone sex, talked dirty, and did something dirtier, and now you feel guilty? Shed the angelic wings, Mila; they are so heavy. Being bad is much easier.”
I uncross then recross my legs. “ I feel like I acted like a slut.”
“ If you care about definitions, then you ’ ll never succeed. Definitions are limiting, and those who fear limits don ’ t rule the world. Stop caring about what others think.” She tosses her arms in the air. “ Your kitty cat wanted to purr, and she did. Move on, and please pick someone other than Dash King.”
“ You make it sound so easy.”
She rolls her eyes and grabs a lip gloss. “ It ’ s as easy or as hard as you make it.” She coats her lips in the shimmering gloss only to lick it off. She does that a lot, like a naughty child eating something they shouldn ’ t to get attention.
“ Who gives a shit? Are their opinions going to be etched on your grave?” Her brows tug up, aimed at me. “ No! People always part this earth with a fake as fuck, but somewhat friendly message etched on their headstones. So, who cares? Be a man ’ s definition of a slut, or make your own definition. Did it feel good?”
“ Yeah, but…what if it was wrong?”
“ Sometimes a wrong makes a right.”
She closes the distance, tips my chin up, and then, like the sister I never had, she paints my lips in her lip gloss: “ If you ’ re going to commit, then commit, baby. Nothing is worse than failing when you didn ’ t put your all into it. Die, knowing you did everything you could.”
“ Is it always life or death?”
She nods.
Commitment. It ’ s not committing that scares me; I have already pledged my heart to Dash. It ’ s the free fall, not knowing if he will be there to catch me.
“ Hey,” she gently taps my cheek, “ You know what you need?”
“ Another lecture?” I joke.
“ Sassy, that ’ s good. But no. You need NF.”
“ I don ’ t do drugs, Nova.”
“ Oh god, you ’ re so pure and virginal. I don ’ t think Dash knows where to find your cherry to pop it. Are you sure he did?” I roll my eyes and try to hide my blush. “ NF isn ’ t a drug. Although his words make me high like I took one.”
“ What is it?”
“ Who , baby girl, who is NF! Brace yourself because I ’ m about to change your life.” She grabs her phone and opens her music app. “ You need some rap mixed with mental lapses and honesty. He ’ s the perfect inspiration for a wanna-be-badass.” She presses play and introduces me to one of her favorite music artists.