Chapter 18
AMELIA
As I walked along the shoreline, I admired the beauty of the horizon, how the colors met the sea with a gentle touch. It was a serene scene, one in which was the opposite of my mind.
The memory of Caiden's kiss from a few days ago, warm and insistent against my lips, still echoed in my mind; a phantom touch that haunted every moment.
I'd fallen for him again, a second surrender, and the bitter taste of self-reproach filled my mouth.
So much had changed, yet he was still Caiden, and I, Amelia. Whatever had transpired in the wilderness felt like a feverish dream, my judgment clouded, my perspective distorted
Why do I still crave him? That question lingered in my mind like a screeching ghoul. Why was I so drawn to Caiden Baxter?
“Why can’t I forget about him?” The words escaped in a ragged whisper, lost to the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. I longed to sink into the cool embrace of the sea.
“Amelia. There you are!” A voice pulled me out of my sorrows. I turned to see Sabrina walking through the sand towards me, wearing a long floral beach dress.
“Hey, sorry. I just wanted to admire the sea for a few moments.” I went to pick up my flip flops and walk back towards the house, but she stopped me.
"Don't worry, I'll wait out here with you. It’s a little tense inside," she paused, sighing, "Sydney just told me she slept with Caiden.
She was trying to flirt with him inside the house just now, and he basically dismissed her.
I warned him against it since it can get complicated with her; she gets attached too easily. "
It shouldn’t bother me, but it did. I felt a sting in my heart, as if it were some sort of betrayal to hear her say that. Caiden wasn’t mine, but there was something between us, despite how I tried to deny it.
I was a walking contradiction. I knew that. I had no right to feel jealous after I kept pushing him away. I don’t want him. I don’t.
“Well, Sydney should call it a loss and move on. She doesn’t know what she’s getting into with him. He’s a damaged mess.” The words slithered out with a sour taste; perhaps I was telling that to myself as well. He was too much, I shouldn’t get involved anymore.
Sabrina raised an eyebrow. “Amelia, honey, we all have our issues. You should know that better than anybody. But I do know how emotionally stunted Caiden can be. Sydney is the complete opposite, which is why I feared this.”
I crossed my arms. “Are you defending him?”
She shook her head, and I instantly felt foolish shame for accusing her. She was trying her best to play the peacemaker, not taking any sides, but showing compassionate understanding towards everybody.
“No, I’m just telling it how it is. Sydney needs somebody who matches her emotional capacity. Caiden has enough on his plate, and he needs somebody who can match his own emotional needs.” Sabrina eyed me after saying that, and I felt self-conscious.
Was she insinuating that I was a good match for him?
Me? The emotionally unavailable one? The girl who built walls taller than any castle? The idea was absurd. "Maybe he needs somebody different," I stammered, my cheeks burning.
Sabrina smiled gently, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Amelia," she began softly, "sometimes, the most unexpected connections are the strongest. Maybe you're both more alike than you think." Her words sat and marinated. I let them hang in the air, not wanting to open that possibility right now.
I couldn’t. The irony was almost comical.
“Whatever,” I spat out a nervous laugh, “You should have been a therapist for a career choice.”
She laughed, too. "I did consider it," she admitted. "I always had a patient and kind way about me; I was always the listener, the advice-giver. But things happened differently."
"Who listens to you, then?" I asked. She smiled.
"Poor Shane hears most of it. But back then? That's the thing about being the helper, nobody wants to lend you a hand when you need it."
I nodded, understanding her experience of being taken advantage of because of her kindness. "Yes," I said, "I know how that is."
She looked back towards the house. “Well, we should probably get back. Hopefully,Sydney isn’t sulking still.”
I followed her as we walked up the sandy hill towards the house, the wind sweeping past us and tugging at our hair. We stepped through the sliding door and closed it shut.
“We’re back,” Sabrina exclaimed as she went to kiss Shane’s cheek.
I examined the room, and my eyes fell onto Caiden. His eyes met mine. A wave of electricity poured between us. It was faint, invisible as the wind, but it was there.
He turned his back and walked towards the dark corridor. I followed. His path took him towards his room, up the stairs, away from everybody. Before he could slam the door shut, I snuck inside, and we were confined in the room.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Caiden grumbled once he noticed I had followed him.
I crossed my arms and stared him down. “I heard you and Sydney had a good time.” The prickly cactus within was slithering upwards through my blood, itching to come undone.
His face hardened, a mask filling his features. I noticed a deep shade of crimson rising up his cheeks, and I that gave me the answer that I needed on how he truly felt.
“Yeah. I needed to release myself. She was more willing than you.”
His words, a cruel barb aimed straight at my heart, felt strangely liberating. The anger, the hurt, the years of suppressed longing. It all threatened to erupt.
I stepped closer, the space between us shrinking until our bodies nearly touched. "Release yourself?" I echoed, my voice dangerously low. "Or was it something more? Like how it was when you fucked my sister?"
The cactus within me augmented, but strangely bittersweet in its brutal honesty. I didn’t mean to go there, but it just slipped out. Must be because of all the ghosts circling me lately.
The crimson faded to a sickly pallor. His eyes, dark and shadowed, pierced so deeply into me.
He stepped closer. I stepped backward.
Too close.
Not close enough.
I wanted to scream.
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Caiden's demeanor shifted; he became a threatening figure, poised to attack.
"It means I can see right through you," I said, exhaling deeply.
"You're angry you can't have what you truly want, so you forcefully take something else. You're no different than most men, and I keep letting myself forget that by your damn charm. I’m allowing myself to forget the destruction you created.”
His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his temple.
Then, he laughed. A harsh, humorless sound that scraped against the raw edges of my own pain.
"You think you know me?" he spat, his voice a low snarl.
"You think you understand anything?" He stepped forward again, the scent of his cologne – usually comforting – now felt like a suffocating blanket. “I’m so much worse than most men, I would fucking ruin you.”
I didn’t flinch. I met his gaze, both our breaths heavy and quick, tension curled around our throats.
His eyes softened for only a moment, then became a fierce flame.
He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek, a touch both tender and menacing. The cactus bloomed, a fiery explosion of pain and revelation.
This wasn't about Sydney, or release, or even me. This was about the monster he kept chained, the one he couldn't control, the one that fed on his anger and twisted his desires.
And in that moment, seeing the raw, terrifying truth in his eyes, I understood. I understood, and I was terrified.
His fingers, as light as a phantom, trailed down my cheek to my neck, to my arms.
I gulped, my fiery dying down, eclipsed by a nervousness that always clenched me when his power overcame me. There was something alluring about him. His touch, his voice. It taunted me, tempted me.
Stars in my eyes erupted, then crashed.
“You are my madness, Amelia.” His lips were so close, his eyes searched mine, his fingers tightening their grip.
“The feeling is mutual.”
He pressed himself closer, and I could nearly feel a bulge near his groin.
Was this turning him on?
A wave of sickness yet excitement coursed through my bones.
"Is this what you want?" he breathed, leaning close enough for his breath to ghost my ear, his hands gripped my waist. "To push you up against the wall and fuck you the way I did Sydney?
I'd give you the best pleasure you've ever known, but it would cripple you.
Because I'm not the kind of guy who cuddles and gives women flowers; I'm the kind who makes them scream and run. "
My own breath hitched. The raw, animalistic hunger in his eyes mirrored a terrifying hunger within me. Was this the precipice of destruction, or a twisted, intoxicating dance?
A dance with the devil, I thought, a chilling smile playing on my lips. His words were a terrifying invitation. I wanted him, I craved the destruction, the pain, the exquisite agony he promised.
The monster within him mirrored the one within me, a creature starved for a forbidden feast. This was a collision of dark desires, a swarm of chaos from our deprived needs.
The answer was elusive; I don’t think either of us knew what we truly wanted. We weren’t the same as we were all those years ago, but we continued holding back. Like two ships passing in the misted night, we evaded each other.
"I do want it," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper as I relished the way his eyes darkened with a bright hunger.
“However, the one thing that has held me together my entire life is control.
If I let myself unravel into you, that control will slip, and I'm afraid of what might become of me. I wanted it the other night in the kitchen, but I was fucking terrified of it too.”
He chuckled, a low, rough sound that vibrated in my chest. "Control," he repeated, "You think you have it, Amelia? You think you can control this hunger between us? It’s a wildfire, darling, and we're both already burning."