Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
HAYAMI
PRESENT
Fenrir finishes clearing the path to the wood store, and I head inside to make us some soup, because I need to get away from him, his words running on a loop.
Don’t start things you can’t finish.
I don’t understand what he meant by that. Was he referring to the snowball fight, which was only a bit of fun to lighten the mood, or was he referring to this morning when I’d watched him in the shower?
I’ve no idea, but I’m hoping cooking will distract me.
The kitchen feels different this morning.
No shadows are clinging to the corners of the room.
There are no drawers like monsters with their jaws open wide, and no sharp objects like teeth waiting to bite.
It seems strange that this happened only hours ago, and now there’s no evidence of it, like it never really happened at all.
After tying my hair back, I roll up my sleeves and assess the ingredients I have to work with.
It isn’t long before the kitchen smells of tomatoes, basil, and hot bread.
Right on cue, Fenrir arrives in the kitchen, shrugging off his coat and hanging it over the large radiator. His right cheek is flushed pink with the cold, yet the left side of his face remains pale, the scarred skin never changing colour.
“Just in time,” I say as I place a steaming bowl of soup on the table.
A nod is all the thanks I get as he sits.
We eat in silence that’s fractured by the scraping of spoons and the tearing of bread. He doesn’t look at me, and I can’t seem to look away from him. All the while, a tension brews that began the minute his head turned towards the open doorway to the en suite this morning.
I’ve tried to ignore it. Tried to pretend it didn’t happen. I’ve tried to be funny, light-hearted, and comical to ease the tension that sits at the table with us, but it hasn’t worked.
As soon as I’ve finished, I clean the kitchen and head upstairs. I don’t tell him where I’m going. He’ll work it out for himself, but I need to be alone, and this is the only place I can be alone in this house.
Closing the door to my en suite, I lean against it, taking in large gulps of air as I try to clear my thoughts.
People can go crazy when cooped up for long periods, and maybe that’s what’s happening here.
Fenrir and I have been alone for several days now.
Throw in the bizarre occurrences, and no wonder we’re starting to act strangely towards each other.
Maybe that’s all this is, just cabin fever setting in.
I turn on the shower and allow the water to heat before stripping off and stepping under the stream.
I close my eyes and let the hot spray warm my body.
This is what I needed. The snow had chilled me, the ice down my back had been almost painful, and my hands had been so red when I’d come back inside.
Cooking had thawed me out a little, the soup defrosting my insides, but the water now washes away the icy atmosphere that accompanied our meal, and it’s bliss.
Dipping my head under the faucet, I let the water run over my skin, cleansing away the little niggles, the silly thoughts, and the strain at the table. I remain this way for several minutes, just letting the water do its job, until I hear a noise.
The door opens.
I freeze.
What the fuck?
I’m relieved when Fenrir steps into the room, but it’s quickly replaced with confusion.
What is he doing here?
He says nothing. His face gives nothing away. He just leans against the far wall, arms folded, watching me.
Okay. Okay, I get this.
He did see me this morning watching him in the shower. No wonder the atmosphere has been frosty. But this? What is this?
Then it hits me.
This is payback.
I watched him, so now he’s watching me. Fair is fair.
Don’t start things you can’t finish.
Is he punishing me? Is he trying to humiliate me? Is that what he thinks I was doing this morning, embarrassing him?
Shit. I’ve no idea what’s going through his head. I haven’t a clue what to do, so I do the only thing I can think of, which is to carry on taking my shower and try to show him I’m not fazed.
So, I wash my hair, taking my time to lather up the shampoo and rake through the conditioner, trying to ignore the mix of nerves and desire that mingle like the soap and water.
Then I wash my body, rubbing the sponge up and down my legs, over my breasts, and down my arms, all whilst feeling him watching, which sends an erotic charge running through me.
But I have to ignore it. Two can play at this game, and I won’t let him think he’s rattled me, because that’s all this is—purely a game. This can’t be anything other than him trying to get under my skin, payback for my Peeping Tom act this morning.
When I’m done, I turn off the water, brace myself, and open the cubicle door.
There’s a second where I’m standing naked, facing Fenrir, all of me on display, no shower screen to hide behind. Then he takes a step forwards, pulls the towel from the heater, and holds it out to me.
Slowly, I step into it and say, “I think that makes us even now.”
It feels clever, the right thing to say, and I want to believe I have the upper hand, have survived his little payback.
But then he leans in and whispers in my ear, “Not quite,” before wrapping the towel around me and leaving the room.
* * *
FENRIR
Exiting the en suite, I’ve no idea of the can of worms I’ve possibly just opened, but then I recall that I wasn’t the one who started this.
And I’ve had enough. There’s too much going on in this house for me to be playing mind games with Hayami. The stunt in the en suite wasn’t planned. When I realised she’d gone for a shower, I had a feeling it was now or never.
We could be stuck up here for days, even weeks, and with the strange shit going on, I don’t have the patience to try to resist her any longer.
I know what her plan was: to lose her virginity and destroy her father’s business deal.
But now, we’re hidden away here, with no chance of her executing this plan, and that only leaves one thing. One person who can help her out.
Me.
Does she want me to do the job of taking her virginity, ruining her father’s plan of selling her as a “pure” woman? I have no fucking idea. But she said that she’d happily let anyone take it from her, determined to piss off her father and whoever her future husband might be.
Although this isn’t the way I want her, I can’t help but think this might be the only way I can have her, and the thought of someone else doing it makes me want to crush something.
I’ve no doubt she was serious about her plan, considering the calibre of bloke she had clamped onto her tits when I busted the door down in the toilets the night we got the code red.
It still makes my blood boil just thinking about it.
If she’d been willing to let some scumbag like him take her virginity, then she’d stoop as low as letting someone like me, someone who looks the way I do.
Hell, all she’d have to do is close her eyes.
I’d do anything for her. Anything.
The stunt in the shower was me setting this in motion, placing the piece on the board and letting her make the next move.
I’m just not sure whether it’ll be checkmate or game over.