20. Karolina
KAROLINA
I’m exhausted the next day. Last night, I tried to write a steamy scene for my romantic fantasy novel, but the spice kept turning into angst. It didn’t provide the usual outlet I find in my creative work.
All I can think about is Rand.
He’d looked devastated when I pulled away.
I just want you, and that’s it.
My stomach flips at the memory of his fierce promise. I try to ignore the strange tugging sensation in my chest, but I know what it is: yearning.
I want this connection.
It terrifies me, but I want it anyway.
I’ve been alone for so long. The prospect of ending that loneliness is terribly tempting.
For years, my surface-level relationship with Bones has fulfilled me just enough to keep me in denial. I’ve pretended I’m not devastatingly lonely because at least I’ve had one person in my life who knows my real name. He knows my carnal secrets.
But he doesn’t truly know me. I haven’t let him.
And he’s never shared himself with me, either.
It’s time to end things with my masked man. I can’t just ghost him.
I owe him more than that.
I’ve been wandering through town in a daze, making sure to stick to the most well-trafficked areas. Following the shifting crowds of tourists, I make my way to York Minster.
The imposing cathedral is awe-inspiring: centuries of intricately carved, golden-hued masonry have been consistently maintained by each generation; the citizens of York have prevented it from falling into ruin.
The edifice is immaculate thanks to hundreds of years of community care.
It makes my heart ache. In the face of such tight interpersonal bonds represented by one building, I feel more isolated than ever.
I decide to go inside, taking time to stare up at the vaulted ceiling. The space is so immense that I can’t help feeling small and insignificant.
Or maybe that feeling is a reflection of my current emotional state.
There are chairs arranged in neat rows for a service later, but for now, the Minster is full of tourists rather than worshippers.
I drop down into one of the seats and pull out my phone.
There will never be a good time to break up with Bones. I might as well do it now before I lose my nerve.
Karolina
I need to talk to you.
He answers a minute later.
Bones
What’s going on?
He must know that I was caught during the dirty scene he arranged in the library, but he doesn’t apologize.
I shrug it off. That doesn’t matter now.
Karolina
I can’t do this anymore.
Bones
Why not?
Karolina
I met someone.
My hands shake at the admission. I’m still not sure if I can be with Rand, but I know I can’t continue my relationship with Bones while I have feelings for my professor.
Bones
I see.
Karolina
I’m sorry. I need you to know that our relationship has been important to me. I’ve never seen you as a toy to be used and discarded. That’s not what this is.
Bones
You’re ending things, then?
Karolina
I have to.
A pause.
Bones
He must be special. You never seemed to want a deeper connection.
I press my lips together. Even now, I hesitate to share intimate information with my masked man.
Karolina
I don’t know what I want. I just know that I can’t keep doing this.
Bones
Fair enough. I want you to be happy, Karolina.
My eyes sting, and I quickly blink away the threat of tears.
Karolina
Thank you. I want you to be happy too.
Bones
I will be. I’m not upset with you. I never could be.
Karolina
I don’t want to hurt you.
Bones
I’m not hurt, kitten. If this is what you need, I’ll support you.
I swipe wet heat from my cheek.
Karolina
Thank you for everything.
Bones
Be well, Karolina.
Karolina
You too.
I stare at my phone for a few minutes, but he doesn’t send another message.
It’s over.
I wipe my cheeks again.
The loss of my constant companion is undeniably painful.
Suddenly, selfishly, I don’t want to be alone in my pain.
I find Rand’s contact details.
Karolina
I’m ready to talk. Can you meet me at the Minster?
Rand
I’ll be there in ten minutes.
King’s Manor is close, so I’m not surprised he can get to me quickly. He always seems prepared to drop everything for me.
And this time, it’s not because I’m being threatened by my stalker. He simply wants to see me, especially after our steamy scene in his office yesterday.
As I wait for him to arrive, a choir gathers in the center of the cathedral. They’re singing in Latin, so I can’t understand the words, but the music is beautiful enough to draw more tears to my eyes.
I don’t jolt when Rand gently touches my shoulder; I recognize him.
He sits beside me and murmurs, “What’s wrong?”
I blink hard to stave off my tears and turn to face him. “I wanted to see you.”
I’m not sure what else to say. I don’t want to tell him about Bones. That feels too private.
And I don’t want to talk to him about my sexual relationship with another man.
His hand rests atop mine.
“I’m glad. I needed to see you too.” He squeezes my fingers. “I want to be with you, Lena. Don’t walk away again. Please.”
“But you barely know me,” I whisper.
“I know enough. I know I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. I don’t care that you’re my student. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. Let me in. I will never hurt you.”
I think about all we’ve shared. I haven’t spent much time with him, but I am getting to know him. Probably more deeply than what he shares with most people.
We’re both orphans, and we both know the darker side of humanity.
It’s made me isolate to protect myself, but Rand doesn’t seem to respond to his trauma in the same way.
At least, not when it comes to me.
On a physical level, our desires do seem perfectly matched. But we’re more than that.
“I’m scared,” I admit. “Not of you. I’m scared of what might happen.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he vows.
“I’m scared of what will happen to you.” The fearful confession is drawn from deep in my soul.
His head tilts, and he tries to read me. “I told you I’m perfectly capable of defending myself against your stalker.”
“It’s not that,” I insist.
A series of macabre images race across my brain in a nauseating film reel: my parents, pale and bloated on slabs; Carter, eyes unseeing and his head a gory mess; Brandon, his face ruined and his body unmoving; and finally, Rich with his throat slashed.
“Breathe,” Rand intones. “Look at me.”
I focus on him and drag in a shaky breath.
“You’re safe,” he promises. “And so am I. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. I won’t let anyone harm either of us.”
I keep breathing. I don’t want to say more. It’s too painful to confess my sins.
He doesn’t press me. He simply mirrors my breaths, encouraging me to continue until my head clears a little.
“Come on,” he urges gently. “I’ll take you home.”
We stand, and my hand twitches towards his before I can think better of it.
His fingers brush the back of mine regretfully.
“Not here,” he says in an undertone.
He’s already held my hand for too long while I was crying. Anyone could see us here and get the wrong impression.
Actually, they’d get exactly the right impression.
We’re not being discreet enough.
My hand fists at my side, and I force myself to maintain a foot of distance between our bodies when all I want is to mold myself to him for support.
I straighten my spine.
I’ve managed to hold myself together on my own all these years. I won’t start falling onto a man for support now.
Not even a man as strong and alluring as Rand.
We walk across town in silence, neither of us daring to speak. If I open my mouth, I’ll start saying things that I shouldn’t in public.
He seems to share my concern, because his jaw remains tight, as though he’s locking in what he wants to say to me too.
Finally, we reach my apartment block and climb the stairs to my flat.
When I go to unlock the door, his hand enfolds mine. My skin tingles, just like it did when we first made contact.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I want you to.”
He nods tightly, his entire body rippling with the need to hold me.
I hastily finish opening the door so we can finally be alone.
We step over the threshold, and something crunches under my sneaker. I bend down so I can toss the mail out of our way, but my heart stops when my eyes fall on the letter.
It’s addressed to Karolina Taylor.
I rip open the envelope in a burst of pure terror.
I crumple the paper before Rand can read my real name, but it’s too late to hide the words on the letter inside.
I know who you are. You don’t have any secrets from me. Not anymore. You’ll tell me everything I want to know, or I’ll fuck the truth out of you. I’ll tear your tight little cunt until you scream for me.
Rand snarls, and he snatches the sick letter out of my hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask, reeling with nausea.
“I’m going to find out who sent this.” His voice is guttural, barely human. “They’ll be the one screaming.”
I look up at Rand. His eyes are wild with panic.
He’s always been coolly collected when it comes to my stalker.
Now, he looks…feral.
I swallow hard. “I really didn’t think my stalker wanted to hurt me.”
His jaw works, but he can’t seem to find the words to express the extent of his fury.
I cup his cheeks to ground him to me.
Suddenly, his mouth descends on mine. The kiss is desperate, full of pain and fear.
I meet him with equal fervor, clinging to him for mutual support.
He’s shaking in my arms.
Or maybe I am.
I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. We’re wrapped up in each other, throwing everything we have into the kiss.
When I can barely breathe, he breaks away to allow me to suck in oxygen. His forehead rests on mine, and his eyes bore into me.
“I’ll take care of this,” he promises.
He steps away from me, and I clutch at him instinctively.
“I have to go,” he says. “I’ll find out who sent the letter.”
I nod and force myself to release him.
As much as I want him to stay with me, I need this stalker handled. I shudder at the thought of what he wants to do to me.
I’ve killed to protect myself. Now, those survival instincts push me to lean on Rand.
Looking into his fierce, dark eyes, I know deep in my bones that he’ll make my stalker regret coming anywhere near me.