16. Ember #2
“Have a good day!” he yelled back, already halfway out the door.
I sighed loudly and looked down at what had been delivered. My head throbbed harder now, picking up speed as I ripped away the paper that was stapled to the bag.
You didn’t eat.
Take care of yourself or I will.
My hand crumpled the paper, not out of shock, but out of irritation. What the fuck was my life?!
I was so tired of this, of everything, especially him. This might be how he functioned, how he lived, but it wasn’t how I did, and I was sick of it.
I pushed both items to the side, where they now sat between the register and the new display of bookmarks.
I had to accept the delivery, but I didn't have to eat them.
As if in response to my refusal, steam started to curl out of the chai in soft spirals.
I growled at the cup imagining that it was Silas.
Boundaries existed for a reason, but clearly, no one in my life knew that.
My fingers dug into my palms as I clenched my fists.
I imagined how I could take it all back into my own hands.
The first part was easy, I would walk away from Atlas, but Silas was different.
The thought of beating him at his own game sent a dark thrill through my chest, a feeling I couldn't quite place.
The moment of victory was ruined when my stomach lurched hard enough that I dry heaved again.
“Fine,” I hissed, yanking the croissant from the bag and tearing into it, not even trying to be graceful.
Flakes scattered across the counter as butter coated my fingers.
My stomach immediately thanked me by calming down, and that made me so ridiculously angry that I chewed louder.
This wasn’t surrender, I said to myself as I swallowed some of the chai, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat.
With every bite, I contemplated the different things I could do to him, ways to make him feel like this.
The thoughts lingered as the treats disappeared, and I helped customers as they arrived.
The next couple of hours went by fast, and in the small moments of stillness, I planned all the things I would need to do.
By the end of my shift, I felt better about everything and was ready to go home to put my plan into action.
When I glanced up and noticed I only had ten minutes left, I started packing my things.
As I grabbed my keys to lock up, the dumb bell chimed again.
I glanced toward the front as I set my things back down.
“We're actually closing—” My words faded when I realized the area was completely empty.
Unease crept in, and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to rise.
Stepping away from the counter, I walked to the floor and looked around slowly.
My eyes scanned down every aisle, my ears strained for the faintest sound, but there was nothing.
I stopped when I got to the front counter again.
A slight movement to my left made me turn, and that's when I saw him.
A masked Silas leaned into a stack of books that were tucked in the corner.
My whole body lit up, and my breath stalled as he tilted his head slightly in my direction. Even through the Watchers mask, I could see it—his damn demeanor. I reached for my bag to grab my phone, but he clicked his tongue and held something up in his hand, my wallpaper back to the picture of us.
“In the past twenty-four hours,” he said, his voice dangerously calm, “I have learned a lot of things.” He moved to the door and slid the lock into place.
“One, I’m very much in your head.” With that, he turned and walked toward me, brushing his fingers against the books he passed.
“Two, I now have full access to you which means I can watch you anytime I want, even here.” A small nod to the cameras in the corner confirmed my suspicion about him.
“Three, it seems you need another lesson in who is allowed to touch you.” He paused for a brief second before crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you learned before with the men from the club, but tonight it was your boss.”
My eyes narrowed in fury. “Tonight was none of your business.”
After another moment, he resituated and pushed each of his sleeves up, exposing tattoos I didn't know were there. “There's also the little problem,” he whispered, ignoring me as he closed the space between us, “of you having no idea what the word mean is. Isn't that right, baby?”
Every word landed like a bomb, and my mouth curled up into a snarl.
I pressed my back against the counter, eyes darting around for an escape, but every aisle felt like a trap, and I already knew he was probably waiting for me to run.
He must’ve known what I was thinking, because he made a warning sound that promised consequences for whatever decision I made.
Quickly weighing the ideas from before, I eventually landed on one.
I scoffed, trying to keep the fear from my voice. “Cute speech, wanna add that to my leg too?”
He didn’t flinch at the mention of where his name was on my body, but there was a slight shift in him, a tension I could feel.
I took a slow, measured step to the side but not too far.
I didn’t want to give him the thrill of me panicking.
“You think this scares me? That you do?” I challenged. “Try harder.”
He advanced one step, and I threw my hands up, ready to push or throw something but he just laughed at me. The sound was low and sharp, like he was enjoying this far more than necessary.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured as he circled me, stalking me like I was prey he couldn’t decide how to kill.
I refused to watch him, so I just looked straight forward.
“Should I be expecting this kind of irritation every night then?” Planting my feet, I gripped the edge of the counter, refusing to give him whatever satisfaction he was getting out of this.
“Because truthfully, I'm kind of over it.” Maybe it was stupid, but the thrill of the anger, of my defiance, steadied me.
The more I stood up to him, the more I was winning.
I continued to stand there as I refused to budge. Even though a part of me started to feel like I should. Every sharp instinct I had fully awakened, telling me to put space between us, but I didn’t.
“You don’t scare me.” My statement came out strong, better than I’d expected.
His head tilted again, like I’d just said something mildly interesting. “I don’t want you scared, baby.” There was something in his voice now, an emphasis on the way he said certain things. “I want you vicious.”
Lifting my chin just a little, I realized any choice that involved defiance only interested him more.
“Tell me something, Ember,” he said quietly. “Do you always fight this hard for control, or just when you know you’re about to lose it?”
My lips curved, but I forced the reaction away. “I don’t fight for control,” I said, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I have it.”
Tilting my head slightly, I mimicked his previous movement, just enough to make it deliberate.
“Maybe with your boss, or your roommates, but not with me. Let me prove to you just how wrong you are.” He moved closer, fully aware that he had my attention.
My heart kicked a little harder with each step he took, but I ignored it.
“Better yet, let me show you what it’s like to give up that control.
I’ll even let you choose how you say sorry. ”
A scoff left my mouth before I could stop it as my face morphed into one of pure confusion. “Sorry?!”
The first word of his answer was a hum, one that vibrated through his body. “Yes, for letting someone else touch what belongs to me.”
My tongue glued itself to the roof of my mouth as I clenched my teeth together.