Chapter Thirty #2
“I’ve already told her I’ll do everything in my power to repent. Including helping get you free.”
“Whatever. You won’t stop. You’ll keep hurting her because that’s who you are.”
“She knows who I am. I haven’t hid a damn thing from her. Unlike you—”
“Me? I’ve hid nothing.”
“Liar.” I squeezed my nape. “Keep telling yourself that. Doesn’t change the fact that we’re both in love with her. Only difference is, I had the guts to tell her. What’s the matter, Pete? Afraid she’ll tell you point blank that she doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not in love with her. You don’t know a damn thing about her. You’re just in love with the idea of her. You’re like a kid who has a toy for the first time and can’t share.”
“I just shared her with you, didn’t I? I let you hug her. Kiss her. Whisper whatever pet name you used in her ear.”
He smirked. “Jealous?”
“Of you?” I shrugged. “Nope. Actually, you know what? You want the truth? Fine. You’re the only man who has ever threatened me in that way, so yes.
You made me jealous. But...” I smiled. “That was before I realised that she loved me back. Before I realised there is no way in hell she wasn’t born to be mine when every cell in my body belongs to her.
So...” I stabbed him in the chest with my finger.
“Be my guest. Love her without telling her. Believe in your little fantasies that one day she’ll be in your bed, not mine.
I won’t stop you. I won’t even hate you for trying to steal her.
I know Ily is mine and I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. So no, I don’t hate you anymore, Peter. I just pity you because I was you.”
He winced and rubbed at where I’d poked him.
Our verbal fight swirled around us.
I braced for more.
A myriad of emotions flashed over his face. Loathing, loss, pain. So, so much pain.
My heart twisted; I backed up a step.
Ah shit.
I hadn’t meant to do that.
For all my conviction, he still threatened me. Still made me worry that despite all the love I had for Ily, it might not be enough. He was the good guy. He was the hero to all the jewels in here. He deserved her. Not me. He was worthy. I wasn’t.
My issue with him went far deeper than just his ability to steal Ily from me. My issue was that I’d actually let him. If Ily one day admitted she’d made a mistake and loved him over me...I—
Fuck, I’d let her go.
I’d stalk the shit out of her to make sure she was safe but...
I would let her be his because her happiness was far, far more important than mine, and in the outside world, Peter could make her far happier than I ever could.
He’d be good to her. Kind to her. He wouldn’t crave her blood or dream of making her scream.
An image of Ily taking Peter home to meet her parents instead of me caught me around the back of the throat. He probably practiced the same faith. Spoke the same language. Had a good and pure heart.
He would be accepted. Acceptable.
But me? I would always have to hide the depth of what I was when face to face with the wonderful people Ily had descended from.
My chin tipped down.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
This was pointless.
I’d get the details from Ily.
Just run.
Looking up, I dropped my hand. “I’m gonna go. This...this isn’t gonna work.”
His jaw clenched.
He nodded.
I turned to leave.
His hand latched around my bicep. “Fuck...wait.” Letting me go, he raked his fingerless gloved hands through his thick brown hair. Looking up at the sooty ceiling, he closed his eyes as if begging the Almighty for strength.
When he finally looked at me again, he said stiffly, “I...you threaten me too. And you might be right.”
“That you’re in love with her.”
He just shrugged so fucking sadly, I had the crazy urge to pat him on the shoulder.
Sniffing back whatever emotions he refused to share, he braced himself. “Look, I’m sorry. This is asking a lot of me. To trust a Master? To trust you? I know what I saw in that cave and know that Ily sees the good in you, but...it’s hard.”
“I get it.” I crossed my arms. “More than you know.”
He huffed. “I...I’ve always been sceptical and have a habit of trusting the wrong people. That’s how I ended up here so...I can’t really claim I have good instincts. So...fuck it. I’m going to ignore those instincts and trust what I see instead.”
“And what do you see?”
He gave me a twisted smile. “I wished I didn’t...believe me. But I see a man who is so fucking in love with Ilyana he’d carve out his heart and slap it onto a plate for her to eat if she told him she was even slightly peckish.”
I stiffened.
Not what I expected him to say.
“I see a man who killed out of pure passion not psychopathic joy. I see a man who’s made mistakes and definitely has a shit ton of issues but...a man who wants to be good despite every part of him being dark.”
My spine tingled. “I didn’t come here for the shrink special—”
“You don’t understand how much it meant to me that Kyle got what he deserved.
He’s cut so many of us. He’s burned us, brutalised us, and has torn my body in two each time he fucked me.
” His limbs started to shake as he dug his hands into his linen pockets.
“I wanted to die that day. Pretty sure I would’ve if it wasn’t for Ily, Rach, Mollie...
and you. I’m kinda mad at all of you if I’m honest. I could’ve been free by now, and...
seeing as I can’t say this to them, I’ll say it to you.
” He snickered. “Isn’t that fucking hilarious?
Can’t be honest with the people I love the most, yet I’ll confess all this shit to the man who has everything I want. ”
He looked at the floor.
I waited.
I’d been where he was so many fucking times.
The least I could do was be patient.
Finally, he choked, “I’m so close to being done, man. I-I’m barely holding on.”
I rocked back on my heels.
Yet another thing I definitely hadn’t expected.
But...I probably should have.
Peter came across as flippant and bold, but wasn’t everyone hiding something in this godforsaken place? All of them just hanging on, surviving, hiding, hoping?
Standing there in a busy kitchen with steam and sugar and salt, I saw everything he’d done his best to hide.
Everything Ily probably saw. Everything mirrored in me.
And all that tenderness inside me welled up to include him.
The guy in love with my girl.
The one man who had the power to rip out my heart if Ily ever chose him.
“You’re not allowed to give up yet,” I whispered, my voice rough.
He laughed under his breath, trying to hide his despair. His brown eyes met mine as he flashed his gloved palms in a sad shrug. “When?”
Fuck.
That one word.
It cut me.
Stepping into him, all those urges to protect my siblings when I was younger surged. I fought the very real need to hug the bastard. “I don’t know. But not yet.”
He sniffed and nodded.
It took him a moment, but his shoulders straightened. “I did not mean to say any of that. What the hell?”
“It’s fine.”
He narrowed his eyes with a flash of rage. “You’re good, I’ll give you that.”
“Good at what?”
“Making people hope.”
I flinched.
“You tortured Ily with that hope when you first arrived. I hated you for that. I still do. Hope is the worst fucking emotion in here and I was perfectly fine before Ily infected me with that disease. She gave me hope. And God, it’s ruined me.
” A deeper flush of anger on his face. “You know, I was coping just fine before she came along. Of course, for the first year, I fought. I got my ass handed to me over and over again. But by the time I realised I couldn’t win, Victor started rewarding me.
Trusting me. Making me do things I can never undo. ”
He shook his head, unable to stop now he’d started.
“But the thing about hope is...it’s too fucking powerful to stop once someone dangles it in front of you.
It spreads like the flu. It kills the weak and weakens the strong.
So I hope to fucking God you’re going to see this through with us, because if you don’t?
If you decide the darkness is easier and keeping Ily collared is better than all the other shit that might follow, then you might as well just kill us now because we won’t survive. Not after this.”
His words hovered in the air between us.
I swallowed hard.
I had no idea what to say.
For a moment, I wanted to run again but then I found myself saying, “I get that asking you to trust me when I’m a Master and you’re a slave isn’t easy. But we’re more similar than you think.”
“Yeah, okay.” His rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
“I have shit in my past that I can’t undo as well. The things I’ve participated in...” I shuddered. “I’ll take most of them to my grave.”
“What could you have possibly done to say we’re similar?”
I stiffened. I didn’t want to tell him, but words tumbled anyway.
“There was no one to protect me either. No one to stop him. I cried as I hurt women who’d only ever been nice to me.
I had to live with those same women afterward and rightly deserved their hate.
Not one of them dared look in my direction.
No one talked to me, hugged me. The loneliness of being ostracised—” I cut myself off with a sneer.
“Fuck. That’s not important. What is important is—”
“You were raised in a place like this?” Peter sniffed, his face guarded.
“Not as grand or with lots of guests, but yes.”
“So you admit it’s not just a desire but in your fucking genes? And you think you can ride off into the sunset with Ily and what? Forget who you are? Put aside all that shit? All this power?”
“I know enough of my needs that I never want to break her. I need her to fight back—”
“Wow, you truly are sick.” He almost spat on my feet. “I hope she leaves you. She deserves better.”
“I agree. She does deserve better.” A wash of remorse chilled me. I snorted with disbelief as I confessed. “And if she chose you over me, I wouldn’t stop her.”