Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ALYX
Since Granite locked that door, I had been sitting on the bed, tracing my index fingers across my lips. Left to right. Right to left.
It felt surreal, and I kept replaying it in my head, starting at the part where he grabbed me. Everything from there was a blur right up until he kissed me. Hard. Demanding. And unapologetic.
The way he pulled me close, my body molded perfectly against his, our lips locked together.
It felt like we were two pieces of a puzzle made to fit.
Yet it was wrong. At least, that was what my head was trying to tell me, anyway.
That his kiss was wrong. His touch was wrong.
The way my body responded to him…was wrong.
Everything was wrong. But I liked it, and it scared me.
Would I have given him my body if he demanded it?
Was I so weak, so easily corrupted that I would give my body to my captor on a whim?
What did that say about me as a person, the fact that while he had his tongue in my mouth, my panties were wet with desire?
Jesus. I was just as depraved as he was.
With a sigh, I fell back on the bed. I could still smell him in the room, that enticing earthy scent lingering around me.
And my skin was still craving more of his touch, all hot and sensitive.
I stared up at the ceiling, trying to sort through my thoughts like they were little sticky notes reminding me of who Granite really was and what he was doing to me.
He’s a bad man.
He kidnapped you.
He can’t be trusted.
You’re attracted to him. Always have been.
But he’s not what you thought he was.
He’s bad.
He’s wrong.
But his kiss felt good in such a bad way.
Oh, my God. My mind was like a minefield, a ticking timebomb threatening to explode any second.
Frustrated and confused as hell, I grabbed a pillow and pulled it over my face, screaming like a woman gone mad.
I refused to accept the fact that I was turning into one of those women you read about in romance novels who developed this sordid attraction toward her kidnapper, thinking she’d be the one to change his evil ways.
Only I had been attracted to Granite long before this nightmare started.
Long before I knew how dangerous he really was.
My attraction toward him wasn’t a new thing—the way he affected me, the way I desired him, it had been that way long before this.
He had been on my mind every day for the last few years.
Apparently, I had been on his mind as well.
But did that make all this right? Did it justify my body’s twisted desire to be taken by him?
I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
All this time, I thought my father was behind guys being too scared to date me.
But it was him. Granite. Somehow, he made sure men stayed away from me.
How was that even possible? Did he really have that kind of power in this city?
Was he really capable of threatening whoever he wanted to, manipulating lives?
“God.” I got up from the bed, tossing the pillow on the floor. Unreal. That was what he was. Un-fucking-real.
Pacing, I caught sight of the chest of drawers with my stuff on it.
My brush. My make-up bag. My perfume. He was in my room.
If he had been able to manipulate my life without me knowing, getting access to my room was probably a piece of cake for a man like him.
By dealing with my dad, his weekly visits, it gave him the perfect opportunity to invade my privacy.
Jesus. My insides coiled tight just thinking about it.
I picked up the blue bottle of perfume. It was unused, and the bottle I had at home was almost empty.
For some reason, knowing it was only replicas settled me a little.
Placing it back, I glanced around before walking to the window.
Someone had closed the shutters, probably to remind me that this wasn’t a bedroom.
It was a prison. Twice I had been let out of the room, and not once did it occur to me to look out a window, to try to see where we were and if the area seemed familiar.
It was pathetic, really, the fact that I had zero survival skills.
“Yo, Swan Lake?” Neon knocked on the door. “You okay in there?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“No.”
The door unlocked, and Neon slowly opened it before walking in holding out my clothes. “You looked hideous dancing in that outfit that’s, like, five sizes too big for you. So I washed these. Thought you’d feel more comfortable in your own clothes.”
I crossed my arms. “Thanks.”
She placed it on the bed. “No problem. So, needless to say, Granite is slightly pissed at me for letting you out of the room. And judging by the bulging vein across his forehead when he came out, it’s safe to say he’ll chew my ass if I do it again.”
“It’s okay.” I hugged myself tighter. “At least I don’t smell like a mucky ballerina anymore.”
Neon stifled a laugh. “Yeah. There’s that.”
She hovered for a few moments, glancing around the room.
“Neon. You don’t have to stick around. I’m okay.”
“You sure? You’re not hungry or anything?”
I scowled at her. “Not funny.”
“Oh, I wasn’t trying to be.”
“No, Neon. I’m not hungry. But thank you.”
“Such good manners,” she mumbled on her way out. “Oh, by the way. We’re having pizza tonight. Extra cheese.” She winked then closed the door.
Why was everyone so obsessed with my weight? God.
With a grunt, I grabbed my clothes from the bed then opened the closet doors which Neon said led to a mini bathroom.
It only had a tiny sink and a toilet. Nothing else.
Not even a window or a dash of color. If you asked me, the bathroom was probably a new addition to the bedroom.
It gave me shivers thinking about it being added to accommodate my kidnapping.
I walked into the nothing-but-white bathroom and caught sight of my reflection in the full-length mirror placed on one of the doors. Neon was right. The clothes she gave me were far too big. I looked like a child playing dress-up in adult clothing.
I stepped closer, examining the bruise on my face.
It was a mix of black, purple, and blue—an ugly reminder of the night my entire life changed.
Softly, I placed my fingertips against the purple welts.
From afar, a bruise just looked like a giant purple and black blotch.
But up close, you’d see shades of green, yellow, different shades of blue.
Almost like people. From afar, they looked simple and two-dimensional, some grotesque and ugly.
It was only when you got up close and personal that you realized how intricate and complex they were.
Every line played a part in shaping a three-dimensional being.
I guessed that was why they said every person was unique, even though we all had the same goal in life. To survive.
What if there was more to Granite than this big, cruel, selfish man who had no problem interfering with other people’s lives? Maybe, if I got closer, I would see layers too. Different lines, different shapes that in the end formed something unique. A better man, maybe. Hopefully.
One thing was for certain, though. I looked like shit.
My hair was clean, but unkempt, strands hanging over my shoulders like it was clinging to my scalp for dear life.
With one bruised eye, the other was framed with a dark circle.
There was no color in my cheeks, my face pale and beaten.
Even the shade of my eyes seemed more gray than blue.
Now that I was wearing baggy clothes, it was painfully obvious why everyone I’d come across had something to say about my eating habits. My body was nothing more than flesh covered bones. No curves. No palm-sized breasts.
I was all cheekbones and ribcage.
I was a mess.
The first thought that popped into my head was how could Granite kiss me.
How could he want to kiss me, and be jealous when it came to his brother?
I wasn’t beautiful. I wasn’t pretty and curvy.
The only thing that made me noticeable around here was my weight.
Nothing about me gave Granite any reason to want me—something he had admitted a few times already.
It was nothing but ugliness that stared back at me.
The sight of my reflection made me want to look away.
Like when you passed a handicapped person in the mall, or a mentally disabled child.
You’d do anything to look the other way so you wouldn’t embarrass that person by staring at them with pity.
It was the weirdest feeling, not wanting to look at myself.
My entire life, my mom had praised me when I lost weight, told me I looked beautiful.
Whenever I picked up an ounce, insults would fly out of her mouth like poisoned darts aimed right at my heart.
After a while, it seemed like I started seeing myself through her eyes.
A perfect ballerina. But now that perfect ballerina was slowly morphing into a flawed, skinny girl.
The more I thought about it while staring at my reflection, the more I convinced myself that Granite’s jealousy just wasn’t plausible. Was he trying to mind-fuck me, seduce me so I’d end up giving him what he wanted? Sex? Submission?
But then again, if it was only sex for him, why would he have gone to such lengths to keep other men away from me? Whether other men had me or not, it should have made no difference to him if sex was his only motivation. Nothing about any of this made sense.