Chapter 22
Whatever it takes, you’ll win this.
The checkered flag goes down, and I’m the first to take off. He’s not even trying to pass me, remaining on my right side just behind my side mirror for the entire race. When I speed over the finish line, I fly out of my car, my blood boiling. Shutting the door, I march straight to him.
Tapping at his window, I put my hands on my waist. What he did was disrespectful to racing.
His hands are glued to the wheel while he cocks his head to me. Those deep brown eyes of his suck me in. I stumble back at the intensity burning in them.
Fuck him, and fuck this.
He takes off, and loss settles heavily on my chest.
“Are you okay?” Blake asks, reaching me.
I shrug, and Blake says, “I knew why I liked the guy.”
“Thank you for your trust in my abilities.”
“And that’s the problem. Isn’t it, Abi? You would have done anything to win. He’s a professional race driver, and in this case, he proved he is more mature than you are.”
I pin him with a stare, and he says, “You’re changing and not for the better.”
“I’m changing? Me? What about you, huh? Why is this about me?”
“I worry about you.”
“You all need to just stop worrying about me.”
I am revved up, and to prove how I’m losing my mind by the second, I drive straight to his house. Letting myself in, I see Alec eating a sandwich on the couch and watching music videos.
“Where is he?”
He points up the stairs, and I take two at a time.
What am I doing? Why am I this desperate to feel something, anything? I’m lost in this black fog, and I don’t know how to escape it.
I guess tonight I forsake knocking and I bolt through his bedroom door.
He steps out of the shower, a towel hanging low on his strong thighs. That deep V ignites a fire in my belly. Focus, damn it. He threads his hand through his hair. A drop of water glides down his neck, and I swallow at the sight of his ripped body. And then I see it: a bold black cursive “A” topped by a princess crown with three peaks on it tattooed on his left pectoral. He wears my initial on his skin, right over his heart. A princess crown because I am his princess. Three peaks because three months is all the time we got to spend together.
My heart hums, experiencing elation for the first time in two years as if singing its endless love for him. I’ve endured so much loss and pain in the name of loving him, and I’d do it all again because we’re undeniable, even if our love ends up wrecking us. Emotions threaten to turn me into a sobbing mess, but I force my tears back. His tattoo for me balms those soul deep wounds, reminding me our love has been true and deep. It’s a wonder I can still stand after all the soaring highs and crushing lows his tattoo made me experience. He watches me watching him. It’s unnerving yet familiar.
“I fucked a supermodel. Her name started with an A. She left quite the impression.”
I should believe him, but I don’t because it’s a bold-faced lie. I am looking at the proof he inked onto his chest. Our love, just like his tattoo, is real. That’s the only thing I have to hold on to. But just like it’s real, it’s forbidden too, and I better not forget why it’s imperative to stay away.
“Really, asshole? That’s for me, and we both know it.”
My anger infuses me with this bout of confidence.
A deep sigh rocks his chest. “Not tonight, Abigail.”
“What was that back at the cliff? Are you so fucking afraid to lose or to lose to me?”
His entire demeanor stiffens. His muscles bulge with his heavy breathing. He stalks toward me, his eyes boring into me. I stay right where I am.
Chest to chest, I lift my face to him. What am I after? Why can’t I stop loving him? Why can’t I stop coming for him?
“Why are you so angry?” he whispers, not to scare me off or maybe not to awaken the part in him that has stopped loving me.
“I’m not angry, I’m competitive. There’s a difference.”
His jaw tics, and he jerks his chin to the door.
“Take your lying ass out of my room.”
“Why?” I shout at him.
I need that adrenaline like nothing in my life… to get lost in a few seconds of freedom.
“It wouldn’t have been a fair race. I would have beaten your ass.”
“Then I would have accepted that. Anyway, I won. Delete the pic.”
“I already did.”
Seconds tick by as we stare at each other, getting lost in each other.
“Why are you still here?”
“I don’t know,” I murmur.
“And that may be the first truth you’ve told since I met you.”
“Nothing was a lie.” It was a stupid wish of an even more stupid girl.
“Get out before I lose it, hearing you babbling the same old shit to me.”
“Why did you return?”
“To make sure that my mind and heart are on the same page when it comes to you.”
He sneers at me, and I look for the boy I fell in love with. Maybe I should mourn him and let this one go. I know so much about him, and I have been the worst for his mental health.
Why is your love poison, Abigail?
I see his arm moving toward me. “Abigail.”
“Don’t touch me.” Or I might crumble.
He cups my face, and I blink. I’m not there. I’m not there strapped to that chair, enduring all that physical and mental torture.
Why are the images coming back? I have to get out of here.
“Breathe, baby,” his deep voice thickens with worry and care.
This is a lie. Everything is a lie.
What am I doing here?
You are just a whore, an attention whore.
I gasp, screaming “No” into Dane’s chest. My heart pounds, making me unsteady on my feet, but he’s holding me.
What’s happening to me?
“Shh, princess. I’m here. You’re safe.”
“Dane?”
I squint at him. He’s here, not Felix, nor Caleb, not all the masked men. My knees weaken under me, and he catches me. When he scoops me up, I lean my head on his chest.
Don’t drag him back, Abigail. You let him go once, you can do it again.
“What am I going to do with you?” he whispers.
Nothing.
He carries me to his bed, and I take his sculpted jaw in, itching to touch it. Those eyes where I saw myself intertwined with his soul, peer into mine.
“Stay here.”
But if I stay, it will get harder to find the strength to leave him. When he reaches the bathroom, I shoot up off the bed and rush out, but of course he sees me and takes off after me.
“We might have a problem if you continue barging into my life,” Dane says when I reach the bottom of the stairs.
“What difference would it make? You hate me.”
“Ah, so you want to see how it is for me to hate fuck you?”
My eyes land on that spot in the living room, and I hug myself.
“You want that so bad, huh? Maybe one day I’ll give in so you can finally have what you want, and I will stop hoping.”
“Tell me when and where?”
I turn and find Alec taking in our exchange.
My stomach chooses that moment to grumble, and Alec points his thumb toward the kitchen.
“Come on. Let me make you a sandwich.”
“Thank you.”
In the kitchen, he prepares a ham and cheese sandwich on the island. He offers it to me when I feel Dane behind me.
“Don’t bother. She won’t even take more than two bites.”
Just to prove him wrong, I eat it all.
It’s not my body that’s my enemy, it’s my heart—my shattered heart and my broken spirit. The rest I got treated.
“Why are you still here?” Dane asks while I keep ignoring him.
“I invited her,” Alec says.
He grumbles, and I roll my eyes at him.
“Wanna stay for a while longer?” Alec asks, wearing a mischievous look.
I nod, following him toward the living room. Dane shoves past me—the moody and broody asshole—and slumps on the couch. I bite down my smile at his obvious display of jealousy.
Alec points at the video game paused on the TV, and I plop down beside him.
“Can you play?” he asks.
“Blake taught me.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“Really? Fishing for info?”
“I have to know who I am up against?” He winks, but it’s a playful flirtation.
“An arranged marriage,” Dane says, sucking the air out of the room. Alec’s brows knit in confusion.
“And who asked you? It’s not like you know anything,” I retort.
“Deny it then.”
Instead, I take the controller and spend the next hour smashing my car into things. I smile the entire time. Fun moments are a rarity in my life, which saddens me. All these contradictory emotions will tear me apart for good one day.
My phone rings, and I pluck it from my jacket pocket.
“Can you come home?” Kaden asks.
“I’m on my way.”
I give Alec the controller and say, “Sorry, have to go.”
“Did you forget about your curfew?” Dane asks.
I refuse to give in to his taunts, so I hug Alec and kiss his cheek. A low grumble hits my ears from behind me.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime,” Alec steals a glance at Dane. It’s clear he cares about him, and it hits me: he wants to play matchmaker.
“I might take you up on that offer.”
“I thought your fiancé called, and here you are flirting with another guy,” Dane says.
This guy will break the other part of my brain into madness as well.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I snap, standing up, but he blocks my way out.
“Dane.”
“Abigail.”
“Get out of my way.”
“Make me.”
He had to go there. Fine. If he’s not too fond of his future babies, so be it. I knee him in the balls, and his eyes widen as he bends over, groaning.
“Are you fucking insane?”
“That’s all on you.”
I wave goodbye and blow him a kiss. Then I get in the car and head back to campus.
Celine’s sitting at the table, a satisfied smirk on her face. She must have hurt Kaden again. As if all she has done ever since she returned hasn’t been enough.
“Wipe that stupid grin off your face.”
Celine shoots to her feet and gets in my face.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not afraid of you.”
I shove past her and say, “Whatever, but at least get your head out of your ass.”
I find Kaden on the edge of his bed, his face in his hands.
“I can’t do this shit…”
“Kaden, listen to me. She’s a ticking bomb, and only you can do something about that.”
“Do you have any idea what it is like to have all you have dreamed of so near and yet so unreachable at the same time?”
I nod, hugging him. We look at each other, sighing.
When I leave his room, Celine is leaning against her bedroom door.
“Stop hurting him. You’re blaming the wrong person, Celine.”
“At least you care about someone,” she sighs.
There she is, the Celine who is hurt. If she would just look at him and see what I see, she’d know he’s hers.
“You have a boyfriend. Stop playing the victim,” I say and shut the door behind me. A minute later, there’s a knock and Bailey steps inside.
“I think we should tell Celine the truth.”
“That is Kaden’s call, not ours.”
“I trust her,” Bailey says.
“Based on what?”
“She’s Celine.”
“That’s the thing. You have buried your head in that laptop. You know more about it than you do about people.”
“She’s family.”
“And even family can stab you in the back.”