Chapter 6 – Oliver #2
Nick told me about her parents and her strict upbringing.
What I didn’t expect him to say was Vale’s father is the leader of a cult.
What monsters they were for taking her out of school and locking her away from the world.
Nick was worried they’d force her to marry young and Vale, not understanding her own freedom, would obey to be a good daughter.
Her parents might not abuse her in the way the world pays attention, but they’d trapped her nonetheless.
They’ve scarred her confidence by removing her from the sun.
Just like her grandfather, I don’t want to see her lose that spark that’s inside her. I feel protective over her.
Vale scoots away from the edge, unraveling herself from the sheets, then patting the bed next to her. “No funny business,” she says. The way heat rises to the top of her high cheekbones when she says it, it’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
“I swear, no funny business,” I say, and it’s the truth. I will reel myself in for the rest of the night if it makes her feel better. It might be hard to believe, but I used to be a gentleman.
Would it be so bad to be her friend? I’m not sure if I’m asking myself or wondering how she’d answer that question.
Vale’s alone, she may need a friend. I could be what she needs.
Maybe she could teach me something. Maybe I could teach her.
Then again, did I really want to know anything about the youth in this world?
What could she teach me that I haven’t already learned myself?
Outside of working to get this library situation under control with Nick, I haven’t done much more than hang out in clubs and bars since I got to Silver Springs.
So maybe my interest in Vale is just small-town boredom and not real interest. Then again, I’m a professional at denial.
I get into the bed beside her, brushing my wet hair away from my face. I should have pulled it back before I came over here.
“I wouldn’t say my life is exactly normal, no,” she says with a cute yawn.
I feel the slightest bit of guilt for keeping her awake. It’s probably three in the morning by now. I’d check my watch, but she’s scooted closer. Her warmth seeps into my side as we lie next to each other. It feels better than nice, it feels right.
“My parents are missionaries spreading the good word around the world. I’ve never really fit into their life.
I get left behind a lot. I don’t want to go with them, but I guess it would be nice to live in the same city for more than a few months at a time and be allowed to attend a normal school, to be a normal girl.
I’m not a very good Christian. I don’t know what I believe in yet.
I don’t like being forced into a box that suffocates me more than saves me.
” I hear the frustration in her voice and it makes sense. Her parents sound like assholes.
I nod as I look up at her ceiling. I find familiar constellations like Orion, Sagittarius, and Scorpius in green plastic stars. That must have taken forever.
I turn the lamp off and they glow brighter in the gloom. I smirk up at them. She yearns for the stars. Does she want to escape this world?
Vale’s collage of stars makes me want to show her mine. I wonder if she would like the dome and how it mimics her bedroom ceiling. I’ve been working on it for weeks. Something inspired by a dream, a way to pass those long nights when I can’t sleep and there’s no real reason to go on.
Now, I want to find some reason, some excuse to get her into my house. I’d take her into the library and have her look up. Would she understand what she was seeing?
“I understand being trapped in a tiny box you don’t fit in.
My mother wanted me to take over my father’s business even though I had no desire to.
I tried so hard to be what he wanted, but all I did was fuck up.
I haven’t spoken to him since. I suppose what I’m trying to say is fuck them for trying to force you into that box in the first place.
One day, you won’t have to pretend to be what they want.
One day, you’ll be free to just be Vale. ”
Honestly, I don’t think my mother wanted me to turn out like my father. He’s not a good man. But he was a king then, and I was his first-born son. As his heir, it’s my duty to rule when he’s gone. But I can never be who he wants me to be. I can never be Asher.
I used to pretend with my family. I used to actually try to get along with them, socialize with them.
I love my siblings, my mother, but they’re still involved with Asher, a fact I can’t handle.
I’ll never be one of Asher’s sycophants.
I hope I never see him again. In fact, I wish he were dead most days.
It’s a fantasy of mine, and if it wasn’t for my mother’s love for the asshole, he’d have been dead a long, long time ago.
But I can’t destroy her mate, even if he’s truly evil. I could never hurt her like that.
Vale sighs and I turn to face her. She’s lying there, her knees together, studying my face.
Her red hair is damp, tangled from the shower, and her cheeks are still flushed from crying.
She doesn’t look as sad anymore. Maybe sharing my past, however cryptic, helped her not feel so alone.
No, it’s definitely not sadness I see as a slow smile creeps up on her face.
“Does everyone fall madly in love with you?” she asks. She traps me with her dazzling aqua eyes. Even in the darkness, I can see them, my eyes capable of tuning to see full color even at night. I wonder what she sees. Does she see the predator or the man?
“Just the ladies,” I groan as I reach for her hand. Changing course halfway, I grab her wrist instead. I have no right to hold her hand even if the urge takes me. Vale isn’t mine. When was the last time I held someone's hand anyway?
“This isn’t normal. Why do I feel such a pull toward you?
It’s like being in orbit around the sun.
I’m unable to get away and soon I’ll fall to my doom, burning up within your fire.
I’ve never given a shit about most men, then I see you standing there in the shadows that first night and now—” She lets out a puff of air and I lean closer, unable to stop myself.
She’s getting frustrated trying to find the words.
“Tell me,” I whisper close to her lips. If only I could kiss her. If only I wouldn’t destroy her. “I won’t judge you, promise.”
Her eyes meet mine. She’s thinking about it. She’s so nervous around me. It makes some part of me sing with pleasure. She’s so intimidated by the attraction she feels. Be brave, my beautiful girl. I can take it.
“I can’t stop thinking about you. My every second awake, or asleep, you’re there.
I was outside in the rain because I had a dream about you.
It felt so real that I could’ve sworn it actually happened.
I thought you were out there, waiting.” She’s confused, but now I’m intrigued.
What were her dreams like? I wish I could slip in and see them for myself.
“Tell me about your dream,” I whisper, and her thighs clench as she remembers, her body reacting to the memory.
I smile down at her. She opens her eyes wide, then her hand comes up slowly, touching the angled bone of my jaw with a single fingertip.
The moment she touches my skin, I know what she sees.
She sees the predator, my eyes changing.
But it’s dark in here, and her mortal mind will explain it away as a trick of the light.
She brushes her thumb against my bottom lip and it’s enough to make her heart race and her eyes soften.
I shouldn’t let this go on, but I like her innocent touches, so rare in my world.
I like how her heart beats a rapid tattoo every time she looks at me, every time we touch.
There’s truth in her na?veté. In a world full of darkened lies, she is bright, lit up in the truth she’s not yet learned to hide.
“You came to invite me to your house because I never come over with Gramps. Then the dream got dark. You touched me,” she says before I interrupt.
“Where did I touch you?” I ask, wincing at my own question.
Her cheeks are bright red now. She doesn’t want me to know. It’s either that good or that bad. Maybe I’m pushing her too hard, but fuck, the way she’s biting her lip right now, her secrets are all I want. “Please,” I beg her. I need to hear her truth.
“At first you got close, pushing me against the house. You said a bunch of dirty stuff. You made me tell you that I touched myself when I thought about you,” she says, whispering the last part.
“And do you touch yourself while you think about me?” I know I’m going to hell as soon as my cock twitches in my pants.
“I’m not answering that. You admitted that you did it while you were thinking about me. I fell for it. I told you what I did. I don’t want to tell you the rest. It’s embarrassing.”
I’m enjoying her sweet humiliation. How cute she is, so flustered. I offer her something I know is bad. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. This girl makes me desperate. “Tell me what happened and I’ll give you anything. Okay, maybe not anything . . . how about a kiss?” My words make her laugh.
“I’m dying here, Vale. Give me your secrets,” I demand with mock urgency, even as a smile forms on my lips.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pervert? Seriously, how old are you?” she asks, a worry line forming between her brows.
I’m a lot older than she can imagine, but I’m not going to tell her that. “I’m twenty-five. Seven years isn’t so bad, is it? Am I such an old man?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but you don’t have to kiss me.”
I’m giddy like a mortal who’s had too much champagne, the taste of her acquiescence sweet on my tongue. I’ve won!