Chapter Twenty-Four
………………………….
Henri
HER EYES.
Her stare.
Empty.
Vacant.
Gone.
I’d done that.
I killed her.
The agonising wrongness of being inside another woman.
The guttering despair of another man inside her.
The godawful horror of being hard against my will.
Even now.
Hard and heartbroken and fuck!
My mind didn’t just break. It demolished.
I kneeled in the burning shower and begged the water to wash away every sin. Every failure.
I killed her.
The floppy way she’d hung in my arms when I’d first grabbed her from the floor.
The loss of her fight, her soul, her heart.
My eyes stung.
My lungs ached.
Every piece of me trembled and tangled until I wasn’t a man but a mess of vibrating molecules ready to shatter in every direction.
Glowering at the scar on my leg, I scratched at it.
I needed to finish the job.
She was dead.
I killed her.
I’d brought her here and subjected her to these horrors.
There was nothing left for me now.
Nothing.
The stinging in my eyes grew worse.
The aching in my chest crushing, crushing—
Blood pooled in my mouth as I bit my bottom lip, doing my best to trap the screams inside me.
I scratched harder.
I-I killed her.
I—
Hands on mine.
Gentle and so, so kind.
I paused my scratching, scrubbing.
I looked up.
Into golden beautiful eyes.
Alive eyes.
No longer vacant or dead.
And every part of me cracked.
I’m sorry.
So sorry.
“Henri…”
Her voice.
Christ, her voice.
I swayed toward her.
I crashed against her.
Her arms wrapped around me and held tight.
The stinging in my eyes became caustic.
The searing in my lungs so vicious.
I wanted to tell her so many things. All of it. Everything. But I couldn’t because the devil wrapped his hand around my throat and strangled.
I gasped.
I can’t breathe.
My heart bucked.
I can’t breathe!
Pushing the angel away from me, I crawled out of the shower.
My bones jangled.
My blood jumped.
Nausea tore through me, and I needed—
I’m going to—
With a lurch, I reached the toilet, flipped up the lid, and purged.
A lifetime of horrors. Of memories. Of imprinting.
Every moment my father made me hit a woman. Every drop of blood he’d forced me to drink. Every tear, every scream, every cry.
My ribs bellowed.
My head pounded.
A soft hand landed between my drenched shoulder blades.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay.”
The stinging behind my eyes became daggers.
My ribs broke one by one as pressure swelled bigger, blacker—
Slamming the lid down on my shame, I fumbled with the flush, then landed in a painful, naked heap on top of the toilet.
Icy shivers merged with my shakes.
I was hot and cold, grieving and guilt-ridden.
Golden eyes looked up at me where she rested between my legs. Her fragile hands landed on my knees.
My kneecaps jittered and jumped.
I couldn’t stay still.
Too much.
Too hard.
Too painful.
My legs danced up and down on their own accord as every emotion I couldn’t shed bled out the only way it could.
She shuffled closer, stroked her hands higher until they landed on my quaking thighs.
She.
Her.
Ily.
I.L.Y.
I love you.
I do.
God, I do.
I love you.
I’m sorry.
So, so fucking sorry.
Grabbing her cheeks, I pressed my forehead to hers.
The stinging in my eyes grew worse. So, so much worse.
I choked.
I gagged.
With her so close, so alive, so pure, I couldn’t fight it anymore.
A sob broke free.
Followed by a single tear.
She cooed under her breath and rose on her knees. “Ah, Hen…”
Hen…
My arms lashed around her, dragging her from the floor and onto my lap.
The moment her weight landed on me.
The second her heat sank into me.
It was over.
An ocean of tears poured free.
A torrent of them.
A river of them.
Shame and disgrace, self-disgust and remorse.
I painted her in wetness as I nuzzled into her neck and let go.
The noises I made.
The sobs I couldn’t hold back.
I was that little boy again.
The boy who could never cry because he had sisters and brothers to protect. Lies to say and horrors to forget.
A lifetime of misery chose that moment to destroy me.
I couldn’t catch my breath.
Couldn’t stay alive.
I’d hurt so many.
So, so many.
I hurt her.
So, so badly.
Crushing her to me, I wept into her perfect skin and laid every rotten piece at her feet.
Time ticked onward. But I wasn’t aware.
Ice settled into my bones. But her warmth kept me alive.
I couldn’t stop.
It just kept pouring, pouring—
At some point in my breaking, Ily shifted on my lap. Wrapping her arms around my head, she hugged me to her breasts. She held me to her, cradled me, protected me.
I cried harder.
I should’ve been the one to protect her.
Guard her.
Avenge her.
Because of me, he’d taken her.
Because of me, she was a slave.
Because of me.
Because of me.
Always because of me.
God—
My head cracked from the pressure. I bled out all over the floor.
“I’m sorry.” My voice broke. “I—” I couldn’t finish.
Another feral noise tumbled from my mouth; I held her far too tight.
She moaned in my arms, but I couldn’t stop.
How could I ever make it up to her?
How could I ever repair this?
How could she ever forgive me?
The thought of her hating me for eternity was too much.
Too painful.
Fresh tears stung.
Horror that I’d lost her.
Acceptance that I deserved it.
“I’m sorry…” I tried again. “So, so fucking sorry.”
“Hush.” She kissed the top of my head. “It’s okay. You’re okay...”
Jesus Christ, how was this woman so goddamn strong?
Her strength put mine to shame.
He’d raped her.
Hurt her.
Yet I was the one who broke.
I clung to her like a drowning man.
I rocked and sobbed and begged, fucking begged her to fix me. To erase my past, delete my sins, and somehow heal me from everything my father had made me become.
The pressure in my eyes slipped down onto my tongue.
Just like I couldn’t stop the tears, I couldn’t stop the confessions.
“H-He made me lose my virginity at seven years old.” I cringed at the words. I wanted to snatch them back. I hated that more flowed free. “He made me cut them…fuck them…”
The sobs came back.
Fresh tears washed away words and secrets I’d kept hidden even from myself.
What was I doing?
Dumping that shit on her?
I should be the one cradling her.
Letting her cry and heal.
Raising my head, I tried to be better. To be the man I should’ve always been.
But the moment our eyes locked, I forgot everything.
A quaking cavernous silence filled me; I sucked in my first breath in so long.
No more noises or sorrow…just aching quietness after the storm. A blanketing lull that felt both peaceful and terrifying.
Shifting on my lap, she draped her legs on either side of my hips.
Her towel rode up, exposing her.
The hard-on that wouldn’t fade for hours thanks to that awful fucking pill speared between us, and I hated it. Hated that part of myself. Hated how much pain it’d caused me and all those I’d abused.
Sickness rose again, but Ily kept me stable. The dizziness couldn’t find me. The horrors blocked out thanks to her touch.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Let it out.”
With a groan, I clung to her.
I couldn’t.
I had no right.
But the despair inside me bled out anyway. “I remember. All of it. I know now why my mother absolutely despised me. She knew. She knew what he made me do. What I did to those women. And…and I don’t think I can live with what I’ve done. With what I am.”
She hugged me back, so kind, so wonderfully, horribly kind. She didn’t speak. Didn’t offer absolution. She just held me in my pain.
Tears welled all over again.
For my brother.
His son.
His wife.
Were they still alive?
How could I warn them that Victor was coming?
How could I stop all of this because I couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t stay here. None of those jewels, new or old, could stay anywhere near this nightmare.
My body quaked and rattled.
My mind refractured and reformed.
I’d been searching for validation in all the wrong places, in all the worst people, but now…I knew what I had to do.
I knew what was worth fighting for, dying for…her.
Always, forever her.
Pressing my lips to her ear so the cameras couldn’t hear, I whispered, “That’s the last time he’ll ever lay a finger on you. You have my absolute vow.”
Sucking in a breath, she pulled back and caught my eyes.
Cupping her cheeks, I tucked blue-black hair behind her ears. “Ce qui reste de ma vie sans valeur est à toi et tu peux en faire ce que tu veux. Je ne m'attends pas à ce que tu me pardonnes. Je sais que tu ne feras jamais plus que me détester mais… j'en ai fini.” (What’s left of my worthless life is yours to do with as you please. I don’t expect you to forgive me. I know you’ll never do more than hate me, but…I’m done.)
The final dregs of the ocean inside me ebbed and sloshed as I hugged her again.
A simple hug.
My ultimate undoing.
I didn’t know if I wanted to live or die, but I did know this woman now owned me.
I would lay down my life for her.
I would do whatever it took to get her free.
Sucking in a haggard breath, I pulled back.
Tears tracked her cheeks.
Her sadness merged with mine.
For once in my life, I had no desire to drink her grief. No sick urge to taste.
Our despair splashed together, binding, baptising.
I couldn’t look away.
My heart didn’t just burst wide open; it threw itself onto a pyre and burned.
“Ily…” I shook my head at the weight of it. “Ily…”
Her tears dripped faster. A smile tugged her lips. “So you do remember how to say my name.”
“I love you,” I breathed.
She stiffened. “Yes, that’s what it means—”
“No.” Reaching into the vanity drawer, I grabbed the mouthwash and swilled away the awful taste of sadness and shame. Spitting the minty mouthful into the sink, I cradled her close, brushed my nose against hers, and said the most honest, petrifying truth of my life, “I meant…I love you.”
I felt as heavy as the world.
As wrung out as a dirty towel.
But…lighter too. Sunshine spearing through the cracks in the black clouds, giving me just enough light to stay alive.
Her lips pressed together. Her body stiffened on my lap.
The old me would’ve closed himself off, backed up, pretended he hadn’t said such things because he couldn’t handle the thought of being so vulnerable. But…this was no longer about me. It’d never been about me.
It’s always been about her, and I was just too much of an idiot to see it.
“I love you, Ilyana Sharma, and I know you’ll never say it back. But I need to tell you anyway. I love you. Christ, I love you. Loving you is the worst pain I’ve ever felt but I’m grateful because…I deserve it. I deserve to be in agony for what I’ve done. Deserve to be in pieces for how much I’ve failed you.”
“Henri, I—”
“It’s fine. Don’t say anything. I’m…” I sagged and forced a wet chuckle. “I didn’t mean to break that badly. I’m sorry—”
“It’s okay—”
“I shouldn’t be sobbing all over you. I should be the one holding—”
“Why? So I can cry over what Victor did?” She rolled her eyes as if he meant nothing. “I accepted that it would happen, and I didn’t watch when it did.”
“Didn’t watch?” Fresh tears stung my eyes. What did that mean? Why wasn’t she a mess over this? Had she snapped like I had and refused to come back?
It’s true then…I-I broke her.
Here I was pouring my fucking heart out, and she wasn’t sane enough to understand me.
Gathering her closer, I rocked her on my lap. “Please, Ily. Don’t let him take you from me. Don’t let him win—”
“Win?”
“I know I didn’t stop him. I know I didn’t protect you, but please, I won’t survive if you leave me—”
“Leave, wh—?”
“It’s okay. I’m gonna fix this. I promise. I swear I’ll find a way and—”
“Henri—”
“Just come back to me and—”
“Henri!”
I froze, terror spiralling in my chest. I blinked as she cupped my cheeks, her fingers strong and sure. “Stop talking over me and listen.”
I swallowed hard, captivated and confused. The way her golden eyes blazed. The way her body sat so proud and defiant. She looked the opposite of broken. She looked…untouched.
I frowned. “How are you okay with this? How are you not in pieces?”
She shook her head, her damp hair sticking to bare shoulders, her towel gaping around her breasts. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” I reclined against the cistern, the cold porcelain biting into my naked skin. “You shut down completely. You weren’t aware when I picked you up. Your eyes were vacant, your soul gone. You were a goddamn corpse.”
She gave me a soft smile. “I wasn’t gone. I just wasn’t watching.”
My nose wrinkled. “I-I don’t understand.”
“I went somewhere he couldn’t touch me.”
“Where?”
“Not sure. All I know is, Victor happened. Rachel happened. I’ll have to deal with everything eventually, but right now…right now, I need to be strong to keep my promise to Pete—” She smashed her lips together. Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t meant to say such things. For a moment, she looked as if she’d push away and leave.
“What promise?” I asked quietly.
Her shoulders braced but then…her face softened, her hand reached up, and she brushed away my tears with a gentle thumb. “Did you mean it?”
Goosebumps darted down my back at her caress. My cock throbbed with need—lust so honest and raw compared to the pharmaceutical chemicals keeping me stiff. “Mean what?”
“That you’re done playing his games?”
Her whisper was just the same as any other, yet…
Every part of me had changed.
It was as if the boy inside me who couldn’t protect his siblings had finally taken control and would do absolutely anything to right his wrongs.
Smiling gently, falling deeper into love with her, I pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. We sat entwined on the fucking toilet, the still-falling shower muting our whispers, our skin chilled from droplets, and our connection unseen by the cameras. “You asked me a month ago to play along with you.” Kissing my way along her jaw to her ear, I murmured, “I should’ve said this back then, but…I’m ready. I’m ready to do whatever it takes to finish what I started. I came here to free all those trapped. So…I’ll free them. Or I’ll die trying.”
It was her turn to sob.
My arms twined around her; I held her exquisitely close.
I gave myself this moment of absolute surrender.
Victor wouldn’t know.
The one spot he couldn’t watch.
For a few stolen seconds, we were free.
And as Ily cried in my arms and purged this awful night onto my shoulder, I scattered kisses all over her, then signed my life over to hers. Sunshine filled my heart. The path I should’ve followed all along unravelled in blinding light.
I was ready to walk it.
Ready to repent.
Ready to be worthy.
“I’m yours, Ily. Every piece. Today, tomorrow, and always. Let’s play…”