Chapter 30
30
Atlas
T he lights abruptly went out and beyond the dais came the rustle of people moving, leaving the room. I barely noticed. I felt like I’d been hit over the head with a baseball bat, my skull ringing, the aftershocks of that fucking orgasm still pulsing through me, not to mention the words she’d just said.
I’d turned my face into the hollow of Rowan’s throat, the scent of aroused woman and jasmine everywhere. Her body was hot and soft and pliant beneath mine, her arms around me, her fingers moving slowly in my hair.
I love you.
There was a tightness in my chest, the possessiveness inside me still roaring, still desperate, as if the orgasm had only heightened rather than calmed it, and all I could hear were those fucking words.
I love you.
I was lying fully on her, no doubt crushing her with my weight, and I had to move, had to process that statement somehow, but her arms tightened around me as I tried to move.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “I like having you on me.”
“I’m crushing you,” I said.
“No, you’re not.”
But I couldn’t get rid of the feeling of heaviness, as if there was an anvil sitting on my chest. As if it wasn’t her I was crushing, but myself. And the baby…Jesus Christ, the baby.
I pulled away, untangling myself from her, but she kept reaching for me. “Don’t go, Atlas.”
I sat up anyway, only for her to lift one leg and slide into my lap, sitting astride me, facing me. The lights had come up again, the spotlight shining down on us, illuminating the dips and hollow of Rowan’s lovely face. Her eyes looked black in the light, holding mine in a direct stare.
She was naked and had just had sex in front of an audience, yet there was no shame in her expression. No hiding in her posture. She looked as if she’d found a well full of untapped power somewhere and it was now being channeled through her.
I love you , she’d said, as I’d pushed inside her, that same, powerful gaze holding mine. No shame in it, no hiding. Giving me the three words that should have made anyone feel vulnerable, and yet it only came across as strong.
“Thank you,” she said, softly, clearly. “Thank you for that.”
My heartbeat was pulsing in my head, a steady drum deafening me. “For what? Forcing you into public sex?” The words came without any thought behind them, a smokescreen to lessen the blow of the three words she’d said to me. And it was right, though, wasn’t it? I’d manipulated her into displaying herself, showing her in all her beautiful vulnerability to a crowd of horny fucks who didn’t give a shit about her. And for my own private titillation.
Your father would have been so proud.
“You didn’t force me, Atlas,” Rowan said steadily. “I was doing it for you, to give you something that no one’s ever given you.” She smiled, brighter than the spotlight above us. “To give you something only I can give you. And you know what that makes you?”
“No,” I said roughly.
“That makes you mine.” She eased herself closer, pressing herself against me. Her hot little pussy pressed against my cock, which was already starting to get interested again. Because that was what she did to me. She got me harder than any woman ever had. “You think that was for you,” she went on. “But it wasn’t. It was for me. It was me showing the world that this powerful billionaire, this incredibly beautiful, strong man, was my slave. He was hard for me, he was desperate for me. He wanted only me.” She held my gaze. “No other woman gets to have you ever again, Atlas. You’re mine now. You own me and now, I own you.”
I reached out, gripping her shoulders tightly. “Don’t you ever say those words to me again.”
She didn’t flinch at my rough hold. Only looked steadily back, and she didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “You mean ‘I love you’, right?”
“Yes,” I forced out between clenched teeth. “No one said anything about fucking love .” I spat the word at her, let it drip with the poison it contained.
“Correction,” Rowan said as if I didn’t have her in what must have been a painful grip. “ I said it.”
“Why?” I demanded. “Love was never supposed to be a part of this.”
She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “Maybe you should have said something about it at the beginning then. Not that it would have made any difference.”
“Rowan.” I gave her a little shake, as if I could shake that look in her eyes right out of her. “Love can never be part of what we have, understand? Never. ”
She leaned forward and her arms came up as she dislodged my hold, then she slid them around my neck so my face was inches from hers. Her eyes were so dark, the expression in them making the anvil in my chest get heavier and heavier. “Why not?” she murmured. “What is making you so afraid?”
“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
“How are you hurting me?”
“What the fuck do you think this is?” I gestured at the room around us. “Public sex. For my own titillation and amusement. That I manipulated you into?—”
“You didn’t manipulate me,” she interrupted, her tone still rock steady. “I wanted to do it. For you and as it turned out, for myself as well.”
“Fuck, Rowan. It means nothing. None of this is?—”
“Don’t you dare.” Her arms tightened around me. “Don’t you dare cheapen it.” This time her gaze had taken on a ferocity that was the dark heart of her. “This meant something to me. This was powerful for me and I won’t have you take that away from me.”
I couldn’t speak. I looked into her lovely eyes and saw the truth. She meant it and that stopped the words in my throat.
But still. What she’d said to me had changed everything, had just upped the stakes a hundred-fold and I couldn’t do it.
Love had ruined my mother and it had ruined me. I would not let it ruin Rowan too.
“This can’t happen,” I said. “You know that, right? Loving me is a one way ticket to disaster and I can’t?—”
“Oh sure,” she said interrupting me yet again. “You’re worried that you’re a bad man, that you helped a friend cover up a murder, that you’re your father, blah, blah, blah.”
Anger rose inside me then and I pulled her arms away, taking her shoulders once again in a tight grip. “Shut up,” I said fiercely. “Just shut the fuck up. Do you know what it’s like to walk into a bathroom to find your mother drowned in the bath? She was naked and the water was cold and she was blue.” The memory was suddenly right in front of my face, fresh as the day it had happened. “And that was my fault,” I went on, spitting the words at her. “She’d tried to ask me for help in the days leading up to it, but I didn’t listen. Do you hear me? I. Didn’t. Fucking. Listen.” I gave her a shake with each word. “And do you know why I didn’t listen?”
Rowan said nothing, just staring at me.
“Because my father told me that she was being a whiny bitch and we were supposed to ignore whiny bitches. And I believe him. Because I loved him.”
The words were like stones thrown into a pond, the water rippling out around us, disturbing the silence, turning it into a deafening noise.
Yet the expression on her face didn’t change. “You were a boy,” she said. “You were his son, of course you loved him. You were his victim, too, Atlas.”
I couldn’t stand sitting there any more, with her warm weight and her glorious nakedness, and the strength I saw in her face. With as much care as I could manage, I pushed her out of my lap and got to my feet, reaching for my jeans.
She just sat there on the couch, looking at me. “And you still are,” she said.
“No.” I began to pull on my jeans, my movements rough with anger. “I’m no fucking victim. Do I look like one to you?” I began to button up my fly, a wordless fury in my chest that I couldn’t seem to push aside. “I ruined him, Rowan. I took his fucking company from him and when he shot himself in his car, I was glad. I fucking cheered.”
“If you’re not his victim, then why are you so angry about it?” She was sitting crosslegged on the couch like a little goddess, as if her nakedness was of no matter. “It’s been years, Atlas. Why are you still punishing yourself?”
“Is this really what you want?” I demanded, ignoring the question because it didn’t deserve an answer. “Me nothing more than a feral animal, guarding you day and night. Suffocating you and controlling you and?—”
“You won’t do that,” she cut me off yet again. “That feeling inside you, the one you hate. The one that you think makes you a monster isn’t something to be afraid of. It’s caring, Atlas. It’s love and I think you love me just as much as I love you. And you love this child, too. That’s why you’re crazy and that’s why you’re afraid.”
I couldn’t stand it then, not one single minute. This woman, this child , who’d only been born a minute ago confidently telling me what love is when she had no fucking idea. None. She didn’t know how toxic it was or how it could break you, how it could get into the cracks in your heart and rip them wide open.
She didn’t know.
Love was a narcissist. Love was a demanding monster that required relentless feeing.
Love had devoured my mother and it had devoured me.
“You have no fucking idea what my feelings are,” I said harshly. “I’ve had forty one years of dealing with that bullshit, and you’re here for two seconds and you think you know my own heart better than I do?”
She didn’t look away. “You think I don’t know what love is? You’re wrong, Atlas Blackwood. Love is putting away the knives so your mother can’t harm herself with them. Love is getting her meds and making sure she takes them every day. Love is taking shit jobs so Mom can eat and not waste away. Love is putting my Mom ahead of everything, because she needs me.”
“You’re making your own argument for me,” I snapped.
“I haven’t finished.” Abruptly, Rowan leapt up off the couch and came to stand in front of me, staring up into my face. “Love is also waking up beside you every morning. Love is you holding me when I fall apart. Love is you bringing me breakfast in bed, and love is your hands in my hair. Love is you desperate to protect me and our child, and love is me standing in front of you and telling you that I love you!”
She was so strong. So powerful. Even now, when she was laying waste to everything, she was beautiful Something shifted inside me, something rough and raw and painful.
This woman wasn’t a toy, she was a goddess, and a goddess deserved a god, not the flawed piece of shit that I was. Jesus, I could barely call myself a man let alone be deserving of a woman like her.
“I’m sorry, Rowan,” I said. “Love is the one thing I can’t give you.”
“So?” she said recklessly. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to hear it back, I told you because you deserved to know.”
“You don’t fucking know what I deserve.”
“Yes, I do.” She took a step closer. “You tore me down, then built me back up so I was stronger than I ever thought possible. You gave Mom and I hope when I thought there was none, and you leant me your strength when mine had run out. You gave me pleasure, you taught me not to be afraid, and you showed me that I’m capable of much more than I ever thought possible.”
There was no fear in her eyes, only her stubborn, loving heart, and for a second I thought I could do it, make that leap of faith. But no matter what she said, she was young. She’d had difficulties in her life, it was true, but I’d had a war. I’d had a battle that had left its scars in me and there was nothing I could do about that. Nothing.
In the end, love just wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry.” I allowed no weakness to creep into my tone, allowed it no give. “But love can’t be any part of my life, Rowan. That’s just the way it is.”
She was quiet a long time, staring at me, her eyes dark. “Don’t let him win, Atlas,” she said very softly. “Your mother would want better for you and so do I.”
But she didn’t know my mother and no matter that my father was dead, he’d won long ago. He’d won the moment my mother took her own life.
I didn’t say anything.
I simply turned around and walked out.