29. Fletcher
Chapter 29
Fletcher
T he night air did nothing to calm my nerves. The walk across campus didn’t either. I’d thrown five rocks up at the attic window of Rose Hall before the light turned on, and three more before Gideon yanked open the window.
Somehow, he knew exactly where to look. He knew right where to find me.
I gestured for him to come down, and he slammed the window closed. The light stayed on, but less than five minutes later his angry footfalls over the fallen leaves and grass grew louder, and then his hands were in my shirt, my back was against a tree, and there was no air in my lungs. Steadying my hands on his trim waist, I closed my eyes and let my exhale tremble against his chin as I breathed. He adjusted his grip on my shirt, giving me another rough shove against the trunk of the oak tree. It hurt, the bark digging into the still open wounds from the whipping Daren had given me earlier, but the pain was the least of what I deserved when it came to Gideon North.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I go to school here.”
“You know what I meant.” Another press against the tree and a fresh trickle of blood ran down my back, pooling in the dips above my ass.
“I don’t know,” I admitted, slowly blinking my eyes open. Gideon had gotten so tall, so mean. “I never know what I’m doing when it comes to you.”
He didn’t like that, letting out a dismissive sound and pushing me away from him. But instead of heading back to the house, he went deeper into the woods. Of course, I went after him…just like I’d gone after him before.
“Fuck off,” Gideon said when I closed the space between us.
“Gideon, please.”
“ Please, what?” He stopped, chest heaving.
“I don’t know.” I dragged my tongue across the front of my teeth and walked a few paces past him. “I don’t know, Gideon.”
“I promised myself next time I saw you, I’d…”
I didn’t need to prompt him, we both knew what he’d promised himself when it came to me. The two of us made a slow circle around each other, both predators at the same level on the food chain, trying to see which one of us was going to be made into prey. The longer we kept up the charade, the more aroused I found myself, which was admittedly ill-timed, but it was his fault. I couldn’t help myself.
He was Gideon North, and I wanted him as much as I ever had. Maybe more, because one time in another life, he’d shown me another way out. He’d given me a taste of what our futures could be like if we were strong enough to fight for them, but I hadn’t been strong. He was better than me in all ways, even if he didn’t realize it. Even if his father tried to tell him otherwise. When I looked at Gideon, I was reminded of what every promise I’d ever made anyone in my life meant…because they were nothing compared to the promise he would have made me if I hadn’t been so fucking scared of my father.
But I was still scared of him, and I worried I would be forever.
“He tried to kill me,” Gideon finally said, voice hardly louder than the rustle of the leaves around us. “I’m all of the things I am because of you, because of him.”
The accusation drove all the breath from my lungs. “What do you mean he tried to kill you?”
“Our first year of high school, after you lied to the teacher and got me expelled.”
My palms were sweating, fingers shaking.
“How?” I asked.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” I protested, needing to know the true repercussions of my actions—of my father’s actions. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I did what I had to, Gideon. I wish you’d understand.”
Gideon came to a quick stop, rounding on me again with all the anger I deserved. He rocked me back against another tree, but my feet tangled beneath me and I fell, taking us both down to the ground with a thud. Fire exploded from the lash marks on my back, but the weight of Gideon on top of me was the only thing I’d ever wanted in my life and I’d bear the pain a thousand times over if this was the end result.
“Fuck you.” He spat the words into my face, knee pushing up between my spread legs for balance. “You don’t deserve to know what I’ve been through. You ruined me. You fucking ruined me.”
“I ruined myself,” I said, daring to slide my arms around his waist, up the length of his long and muscular back. He was pulled taut like a bowstring, tension vibrating out of him, the restraint palpable.
He gave a rough jerk of his knee, right up into my balls, and I grunted from the pain of it, spreading my legs wider.
“Does it make you feel better?” I asked. “Hurting me? Because I’ll let you. I’ll let you tear open these scars on my back if it makes you feel better.”
“A small consolation prize for what you turned my life into,” he said softly, words deathly steady and his mouth only inches above mine.
“Kiss me, Gideon,” I begged, curling my fingers around his shoulders, trying to pull him down to close the space between us.
“You are all of my firsts and all of my lasts, Sin.” The resolve in his voice was growing unsteady, the syllables quaking.
“I’ve wanted you my whole life,” I promised. He was so close, so close after so long and it might be my only chance to feel him this way. “You’re my biggest regret. No, I’m my biggest regret.”
“I fucking hate you for what you did to us,” he admitted, burying his face into the crook of my neck. He made a ragged sound that might have been a cry, might have been a scream, but he didn’t wrestle himself out of my arms.
“I hate me too,” I told him. “Every day.”
He shifted his weight above me, hips pressing down until the burning hot thickness of his cock seared me through the layers of clothes and fabric between us.
“Gideon,” I whispered his name, arching up against him and hooking a leg around the back of his thigh.
He cursed me, grunted, then thrust his hips, rutting against me and pushing me deeper and harder into the dirt. The whole while his lips moved, soft and wet against the side of my neck. I let myself tangle my fingers into his hair, coaxing him on and praising him for how he took what he wanted from me.
“Use me,” I pleaded. “I deserve it.”
He humped me faster, harder, more frantic, then Gideon sank his teeth into my neck hard enough to draw blood and a wet heat soaked through his pants as he went still. I wanted him to stay, tried to hold us together, but with his orgasm, the moment passed. He extricated himself from my arms and sat up, that soft gorgeous hair falling loose and tangled over his face.
“You deserve nothing from me,” he said, climbing to his feet and leaving me alone on my back, leaves in my hair, blood and cum smeared across the rest of me.
I closed my eyes, scrubbing my hand down my face and trying to pretend it wasn’t tears I wiped from the bottom of my lash line. The cruel truth was, if I could go back in time, I wouldn’t change a single thing about the course of our lives. Hurting Gideon then was the only thing that allowed him to be alive now, his cum hot and sticky against my hip.
And that…
That was worth everything.