Chapter 19
Becki
Biker looks devastated, hollowed out, cracked open in places he didn’t know could break.
Good. Let him break. Let him feel something sharp and deep, the way I did in that closet with tape over my mouth and him inside a bunny.
He told himself he didn’t want to touch me.
He lied. He lies constantly. Especially to himself.
And they say I’m the liar.
I sit up slowly on the mattress, letting the chain stretch tight on purpose. The metal scrapes the floor in a sound that crawls under his skin. He hates that sound. He is obsessed with that sound.
“Royal,” I whisper, just quiet enough to pull him closer instead of push him away.
He comes back like he can’t stop himself. Like he is the one chained, not me.
I drag my fingers over the bruise on his jaw, the one I put there. He inhales sharply. His eyes flutter almost closed. He doesn’t pull away.
“You thought you could destroy me with another woman,” I say. “Because of Legend. Because of me and Legend. But you destroyed yourself instead.”
His throat works as if the words hurt. Good. Let him feel it.
“And now you’re angry,” I whisper, my voice soft as ash. “But not at me. At yourself.”
His eyes flicker, wild and cracking at the edges. “Stop.”
“Why?” I ask. I lean closer. “You took something from me. Let me take something from you.”
He grips my wrist, but it is weak. I twist free without effort.
“Sit,” I tell him.
He doesn’t. But he doesn’t move either. He hangs suspended between wanting and running, exactly where I want him.
“Look at me, Royal.”
His eyes lock on mine. Trapped. Devastated. Mine.
I lift his hand and place it on my throat. His fingers tremble. His pulse surges. I lean into him, offering him the one place he always grabs when he loses control.
“This is what you wanted,” I whisper. “This is what you were trying to break.”
He lets out a sound that is half growl, half confession. His forehead falls against mine. His breath shakes against my lips.
“You ain’t winning this,” he murmurs.
“I already did.”
He snaps then, not with violence but with terrifying clarity.
He seizes my waist and jerks me off the bed.
My body slams into his. The chain clinks against the frame as my arms slide around his shoulders in a challenge, not surrender.
I refuse to surrender to a man who pretends he doesn’t already kneel for me.
Our mouths hover too close. He pushes me away, just far enough to keep from falling into the fire.
“You ain’t seducing me,” he says, voice cracked and ragged.
I tilt my head. “Then why are you trembling,”
His eyes slam shut. He can’t look at me because looking is falling.
“We are done,” he whispers.
“No. We ain’t done.” I take a step, chain tightening. “We are just beginning.”
He turns like he is running from something burning. Maybe he is. Maybe it is me.
I watch his back. I watch the tense line of his shoulders. I watch him breathe like staying upright is hard.
“You and Legend are no better than my father,” I say.
He stops. He doesn’t turn around, but his breath stutters, a crack in stone.
My voice lowers. “You lock me up. You drag me by chains. You tell yourselves it is for my own good. That is the exact thing he always said.”
His hand tightens on the doorknob. He still doesn’t turn.
“You think I haven’t been in that basement before?” I say, softer. “You saw what he does to girls he calls sinners. Did you ever once wonder what he did to his own sinner?”
Royal flinches. It is small, but I see it. I see everything.
“Don’t act like you care. Don’t lie to yourself,” I say. “You hurt me on purpose with that girl. You wanted me to feel it. You wanted me to break. That is what the mask was for too.”
He turns sharply, eyes wide, breath sharp. He doesn’t deny it. That is how I know.
“You think I didn’t recognize you,” I whisper. “Behind that mask. The way you touch me. The way you breathe. The way you watch me like you’re starving.”
His expression falters. His fingers curl. This time the denial never comes.
“You are the man who dragged me off my bike,” I say. “You are the one who held me down in the cemetery. You are the one who whispered my name like a secret. Claimed me already.”
He takes a step toward me before he realizes it. His eyes go dark. Hungry. Cornered.
I press the advantage. I always press the advantage.
“You think you chained me,” I say. “But you’re the one locked in here with me. Your obsession.”
He swallows hard, eyes burning.
“Keep running from me, Royal,” I whisper. “But one of us is gonna break.”
I pause, let the chain pull tight, let the silence thicken until he is breathing hard.
“And it will not be me.”
He opens the door because he has to. If he stays even a second longer, he will put his hands on me and finish both of us. The lock clicks. His footsteps fade.
I lie back on the bed, heart steadying. The room feels smaller without him in it.
He thinks I’m the prisoner.
But he is already mine.
And he knows it.