Chapter 40
The ceiling was leaking.
An odd thing to focus on, perhaps. There were more important things to do than watch melted snow slowly drip onto the wooden floor, but Harper’s mind had fused on it. Counting every drop.
Seventy-two. Seventy-three. Seventy-four.
The building Kieran had pulled her into turned out to be his private quarters.
An old cabin with a small kitchenette and a living room so packed with boxes that they had taken over the furniture.
Based on the cursory glance she got when he pulled her through the room, most of them were filled with weapons.
Now they were in his bedroom. A rugged space with wooden furniture and decorated with mounted animal skulls. A large bed sat in the corner, and a desk was by the only window, outside of which the snowflakes flew in horizontal lines.
Kieran was staring out of it. He’d been walking in and out of the room at first, rearranging stuff elsewhere in the cabin, then talking to someone, then yelling and cursing.
Now he wasn’t moving. Neither was Harper, as she sat right where he’d left her. On the edge of the bed, staring as water dripped onto the floor. Silent.
“How?” he muttered. “Jackie would never work with the Chains. She wouldn’t stoop that low. But she knew to be there, somehow. And as soon as things got hard, they ran back to her, the fucking cowards.”
Harper bit her tongue. She was so close to snapping something venomous in response to his stupid spoken thoughts, but she couldn’t. Couldn’t even look at him. She wouldn’t be able to hide the enmity in her gaze, and that would probably fall under the ‘attitude’ Kieran so detested.
Just keep counting. Ninety-five. Ninety-six. Ninety-fucking-seven.
Kieran lowered his head and sighed. As though he was a general who’d just suffered a violent betrayal, rather than a warlord who’d overextended his reach.
He walked away from the window and sat next to her. She stiffened as he brushed aside her hair, baring the wounds on her neck.
“I can’t believe she did this to you.” He caressed her cheek. “I can only imagine how awful it was. The Chains are ruthless, especially to their enemies. They knew how it would affect me, giving you to her.” His body went rigid. “How did she hurt you?”
Harper pinched her mouth shut. He grabbed her chin and turned her towards him.
“What did that vampire do, Harper? Answer me.”
She did so many things. Had been a light in the dark. Had been warm when everything was cold. Had made Harper feel safe. So safe that she’d shared things she never said out loud.
And now she was gone.
No. No. Harper couldn’t think that. It would twist the hate in her chest into sorrow, and if that hit right, then she wouldn’t survive what was to come.
Kieran’s hand trembled.
“Answer me!” he roared. Harper flinched, despite trying her hardest not to.
When she still didn’t speak, he got up and marched towards the door.
“No!” She grabbed his arm, making him stop. “Don’t go. I’m sorry, I… I’ll behave.”
She didn’t want to give him even an ounce of the respect he screamed for, but unlike before, he wouldn’t turn his anger on her. He would bring it beyond the room. He’d take every hurtful, ruining idea he had and make Evie suffer it rather than her.
He’d finally found a threat that worked. If it wasn’t there, all this would be almost bearable. If she could just despise him openly, if she could defy his attempts at breaking her.
Instead, she had to fall in line. Had to do what she was told and play the demure role he requested.
She had to let him do whatever he wanted.
He sat next to her again. The anger drained from his face.
“I shouldn’t be scaring you. After everything you’ve been through.” He traced his thumb along the curve of her mouth. She almost bit him. “Soon, whatever she did will only be a memory. It’ll be like a bad dream. Once we find somewhere new to start over, far away, you’ll forget all about her.”
He caressed her stomach. “You’ll have plenty to keep you busy. Once our kids get here, you won’t have time to remember all the bad stuff.”
He spoke so matter-of-factly. As though they already had the conversation and agreed on the outcome.
They’d done the first half. Kieran had mentioned children before.
He wanted a bunch of them, while Harper wasn’t sure she wanted any.
She hadn’t thought he was serious about it until he ‘forgot’ to put on a condom one night.
She’d taken Plan B the following day, and when she told him, he’d punched a hole in the wall.
“I’ve missed you so much.” His mouth found hers, skin grating like sandpaper. “I don’t know how I survived being apart from you. It was agony. It was like a piece of my soul was gone. I love you, and we’ll never be apart again. I swear it.”
He cupped her breast through her shirt, squeezing hard enough to sting. She stiffened, but he didn’t notice. Or didn’t care.
He bit her bottom lip. “Say you want me.”
Don’t fight it. Just think of something else. Anything else.
“I want you,” she said through gritted teeth.
A low growl escaped him. He put his hand on her throat, pressing in until it hurt.
“Say you’re mine.”
His voice was snarling. Triumphant. As though he’d won a prize rather than stolen it.
Harper went cold, and despite that, she sensed everything with painful clarity. His lips against hers. His calloused fingers touching her skin. His massive body, giving off a sour smell of blood and sweat.
You’re not here. You’re not feeling any of this. It isn’t real.
He was still touching her. Groaning against her, and with every second that passed, her body screamed louder that she needed to get away.
It wasn’t that she was frozen in place. That she’d shut down to protect herself from what was happening. Instead, her limbs ached from the effort of maintaining her composure.
Kieran put a hand on her thigh. Moved it up. Pushed between her legs.
Ice shot up her spine. Tension coiled around her muscles, tightening and tightening, and then snapped.
She wrenched her head back and slapped him. A hard, stinging slap that brought a burn to her palm.
She immediately froze. She’d messed up. Had fought back when she wasn’t allowed, but she hadn’t been able to stop. It just happened.
Kieran looked confused. Shocked, as though her reaction had come out of nowhere. As though he had genuinely believed that if he just got her alone, she would see things his way.
Then his expression darkened. Anger filled his eyes. A primal, violent kind that summoned another dreadful conclusion.
He had no intention of leaving this room. Not until he was done with her, at least.
He backhanded her across the face, and the force sent her crashing to the floor.
“You just refuse to learn.” He yanked her upright and shoved her against the wall. “I tried being understanding. I tried being patient, but that doesn’t fucking work with you. You’re just a dumb bitch who can’t understand what’s good for her. It’s like you enjoy pissing me off.”
She glared at him, filling her gaze with every ounce of defiance she had just tried to suppress.
“You’re wrong. I fucking love it.”
His face turned bright red, but right then, she didn’t care how mad he was. She wanted to eviscerate him, and the only way she could do so was verbally.
“I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours. It doesn’t matter what you do.
How long you do it for. How much you make it hurt.
I will never love you, and I want you to know that.
I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter what you tell yourself, no matter what you make me say, the only thing I’ll ever feel for you is loathing. ”
His eyes blazed. Low, rumbling growls slipped past his lips, the kind she had heard so many times before. The kind brought out either by fury or a far more sickening emotion.
“You don’t know what you want.” He pulled off his belt and dropped it on the floor with a heavy thud. “You don’t know your place. What your purpose is. I don’t care how long it takes to make you see it. I will make you mine.”
He pulled at her t-shirt, the fabric ripping. Cool air touched her skin, followed by rough hands as he groped her chest through the torn clothes.
He kissed her again. Hard and messily and growling against her mouth. She bit down on his lip hard enough to taste blood and then kneed him between the legs.
A pained grunt escaped, but instead of backing off, he pushed her to the desk, pinning her down so her chest was against its surface.
She thrashed against him, but it did nothing to loosen his hold. He leaned over her from behind, his groin pressing against her.
He was already rock hard. She knew he got off on stuff like this. When they were dating, one of his favorite scenarios to play out had involved her pretending to resist and yelling for it to stop.
There was nothing pretend about this. In a twisted way, it felt like he liked that more.
“You are mine!” He yanked her sweatpants past her hips. “You were made for me. You belong to me. If you refuse to realize that, then I have to fucking show you.”
She couldn’t get away from him. She could protest and struggle and scream, but he was stronger than her. In his mind, he was owed her, and that negated any desire she may have.
As he pulled his zipper down, she reached across the desk, grabbing a metal letter opener—the handle molded to look like a leaping wolf—and thrust it backwards.
It wasn’t a great strike. Luck more than skill guided her arm, but it was enough for the point to hit his waist.
Kieran stepped back, cursing, and Harper threw herself away from the desk. She dashed to Kieran’s discarded belt, pulled his gun from its holster, and pointed it right at him.
“Get. The hell. Away from me!”
She backed up until the wall stopped her retreat. She was on the far side of the room, Kieran standing between her and the door.
He grimaced as he inspected his side. A red mark showed on his waist, the letter opener having worked more like a poker than a blade.