Chapter Fourteen
damian
I couldn’t tell what exactly woke me first: the light, the warm, soft skin rubbing mine, or the banging in my head.
Whatever it was, it made waking up feel like I had just surfaced from a sea of black water.
My skull throbbed, a bitter, sour metallic taste filled my tongue, then the cold hit me next, like needles in my flesh, and the smell of wax in the air around me.
I dragged in a breath that tasted like metal and something sweet beneath it.
My bones felt…hollow, as if they were accusing me of a sin I had committed. Then I blinked my eyes open.
White sheets, cold marble beneath my spine, Elena’s back pressed to my side, as her dark hair spilled across the counter’s stone lip. She looked carved from frost, tired as her body moved in slow breaths. Then…my stomach dropped through the damn floor.
“What…” My voice cracked. “What the hell…” I whispered as my brain registered what was happening. I was naked, we were naked, on her kitchen counter. How on earth?
I jerked upright, the sheet almost slipping from my waist and rendering me bare.
I caught it just in time as panic coursed through me.
My head spun, everything spun, making me completely dizzy.
I reached for the counter to steady myself as my mind went blank.
I tried to think, but nothing came, and it only made me panic more.
All I remembered was coming down in my truck, then…
a void was all I got. A void and Elena lying naked beside me like a question I did not know how to answer.
I walked around the counter to where her face was, and like the first time I saw her, I short-circuited.
God, she was beautiful. She looked relaxed, peaceful, like someone who wasn’t fighting ghosts or running from one.
Her raven hair fell carelessly around her face, and my hand moved on instinct.
Just when I pushed a few strands away, I noticed her lip, red, plump, and with a wound.
A wound that could only mean she bit her bottom lip or… No!
“Elena.” My voice tripped over itself. “Hey.” I shook her lightly, worried she would wake in a full blown panic also.
She stirred, releasing a soft groan, her brows knitted together before her eyes finally fluttered open. Her brown eyes met mine and she smiled at me, and damn, for a second I relaxed, and forgot I was in shambles a second ago.
“Hey…” she muttered, her eyelids giving up and shutting slowly.
“Elena, we…” I paused, unsure of what exactly I would use to start this off, then her eyes went wide open and she looked at me, all of me, then at herself, and realization dawned on her, and her hand slapped over her mouth.
“Damian…I…” she started, her eyes closing again.
“Elena, I’m…” Sorry? Yes, yes I was sorry. I was here to help her, not get tangled in her sheets. So yes, yes I was sorry. Fuck! I could not even remember tangling with her in her sheets for fuck sake! Was that why the apology hooked in my throat?
“Damian, I’m so sorry.” She looked away.
Sorry? No, no, she shouldn’t be. “No, don’t?” My heart pounded against my ribs like it wanted out. “I should be the one…I shouldn’t…I never do this?” Whatever this was.
She sat up too fast, clutching the sheet to her chest, her breathing fractured.
“I should’ve told you,” she whispered. “About the ghost and the things he wanted, the things he had done to me. I shouldn’t have sent you in blind to fix this.
” She broke off, swallowing. “Maybe if I did, I don’t know.
Maybe you wouldn’t have come, or maybe you would have been more prepared. ”
“What?” What was she talking about? “Prepared?” I asked, unsure of which of all these made sense. None.
“Yes, prepared. Maybe you would have known what kind of ghost it was? Known it would possess you.” Wait what? “Maybe you would have found a way to free yourself. It’s all my fault, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. For this, for making us do the things we did last night.” What the actual fuck!
“Elena…” I took a step back “What are you talking about right now?” The question scraped my throat raw as my brain tried to search for any recollection of what she was talking about.
“What?” She looked at me like I had slapped her. “What do you mean? You don’t remember?”
My blood iced over. Of course I don’t remember, fuck I didn’t even believe her.
“No, Elena. I do not remember anything after I got here. Not even entering your house. So what is this?”
“Damian, you were…it took over you. You weren’t yourself anymore, I tried to bring you back, but it was like you were gone, yet still there?” she said, her tone turning into a question. “You were different, Damian. And you…we did things…” Her voice shook.
“Elena, that can’t be…” I took another step away from her. I would never do “things” to her, and fucking not remember them! I mean, look at her.
“Look.” She let the sheet slip low enough to show her collarbone, the deep blooming marks on her throat, the prints that looked like hands, my hands?. “You did this, and the wax, the…sex. Damian we had sex, you, we…the ghost. God I sound crazy, don’t I?”
Yes, yes she did. But I knew crazy, I lived crazy, but this? Possession, I can understand. But sex like this? That gave her these marks? And I can’t remember? No, no that was crazier than all the things I had seen and done.
“Me?” I stared at her. “You think I did that?” It was a stupid question, but it escaped my lips before I could stop it.
“I don’t think, Damian. I know you did it.”
Something tore inside my chest, and I couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard I was trying to.
“Elena, are you listening to yourself?” My voice rose, spiraling higher with every word. “I didn’t do any of this. I didn’t…” My hands cut through the air, useless, frantic. “If something happened, it wasn’t me.”
“I’m not crazy. You said you’d believed me.” She hopped off the counter, her words cutting through my chest. I said that, I said I’d believed her, but this, this is too much.
“I’m not calling you crazy, but Elena, I could never do this to you, and not remember. Are you sure this was what happened? Are you sure the session didn’t go south and we both passed out? That happens, that happens a lot.” Lies! It never happened. Fuck!
“Don’t gaslight me!” she shouted, taking a step toward me with fire blazing in her eyes.
“You were there, it was you. In fact, you were there in the moment too even as it possessed you, a part of you knew what you were doing. You called me ‘baby,’ you said you looked at my…Jesus, Damian! I am not crazy!” she yelled, tears welling in her eyes now.
“You said my name like it belonged in your mouth. You dragged me across the floor, did these things to me without even lifting a finger. You made me kneel in the circle, you took off my dress, you…you…you. Damian, please…”
“Stop!” I shouted back. “Elena, none of that makes sense!”
“It doesn’t have to make sense,” she snapped, voice cracking. “But that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen!”
My pulse thundered, and confusion twisted into frustration, and frustration curdled into an ugly, sharp, defensive type of anger.
“This is insane,” I spat. “All of it. You expect me to believe you because what? You woke up in my arms? Maybe you’re the one who wanted this, and…
” Don’t say it! “And, and…” Fuck man! Don’t fucking say it!
“You planned this from the start to have arms to wake up in!” Fuck my life!
Her jaw dropped. “Oh, wow.” She laughed, a single disbelieving breath. “You’re unbelievable.” She shook her head.
“Am I?” The anger in me surged, boiling hotter, more desperate to deflect from the chaos clawing at my skull. “If you needed a warm body so badly, you could’ve said so. Instead of spinning ghost stories to justify it.” Jesus fuck! What was wrong with me?
Her face went still, and the air turned cold, and before I could mentally slap myself, her hand cracked across my cheek with the sound louder than that of a breaking branch, making my head snap to the side, and heat flared across my skin.
I turned back slowly, something inside me splintering, and fucking hell, I didn’t think, or breathe.
The storm inside me swung my hand before a thought caught up, and my palm met her cheek with equal force.
The slap echoed through the kitchen like a curse spoken aloud, then silence fell upon us.
Real silence, heavy enough to suffocate.
We stared at each other, our breaths trembling between us, both of us stunned by what had just happened.
Something rippled across her face: shock, hurt, and something deeper.
Something that felt like betrayal threaded through her chest. Fuck! This woman was gorgeous!
Her fingers rose to her reddening cheek, and my hand fell uselessly to my side.
I felt the world…pause, like it was waiting for us to either break further or step back from the edge.
And for the first time since waking, since I met her sleepy brown eyes, since hearing this insane story, I realized why I was mad beyond recognition.
I was afraid, frightened, not of ghosts, not of possession, but of her.
I was scared in my bones because I fucking believed her.
I believed her the moment she spoke, but I couldn’t remember, and that pissed me off.
I was mad that I couldn’t remember what we were capable of doing to each other, what we did do to each other. Fuck!
“Elena…” I whispered. Her name burned my tongue, because I was fucking unworthy.
I reached for her, and my fingers brushed the air where her arm should have been as she jerked away like contact with me would burn her. “Elena, please…” Her name left me in a rasp, so raw, and shaken by the echo of that slap.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed.
“Elena, I’m…” Sorry?
“No.” Her voice cracked into something jagged, brittle. “You’ve said your bit, and I heard you loud and clear.”