56
My mind is an endless labyrinth of mazes.
My heart is being pulled one direction, my mind another.
His presence is suffocating. His love is a drug I undoubtedly need to function.
The longer I allow this to go on, the more I grow addicted.
Like my little pills, he sends me into a spiraling madness I never want to escape.
Only the reality he offers seems obtainable, but not sustainable.
Sure, I can find a sense of closure and a new chapter, but the idea of us is absurd.
I worry for my stability. I worry about my ability to walk away unscathed because the reality of the situation is that we are like oil and water.
It will never work even if it was something we both wanted.
He knows I'm fragile, easily manipulated, and breakable.
His words are just that. Empty and filled with false promises.
The illusion will shatter around me in a million pieces once he has gotten what he wants.
Vengeance. He can spin it anyway he chooses but the fact of the matter is this is for him, not me as he's stated. I see right through his illusion.
Being the stupid bitch I am, I melt into his touch.
His lips taste like regret and desperation wrapped into a messy fucked up bow.
He swallows my soft cries. Before he can undress me the door swings open.
Kieran rips himself away from me. A man I've never seen before strolls through the room, unfazed by our actions.
Zain and Vesper trail behind him. Their eyes fall to Kieran and I.
Zain releases a heavy snort. “Never took you for the type to make out like a sloppy teenager.”
Kieran scowls as he rises to his feet. He discreetly adjusts his jeans. “Fuck you, man.”
Zain shoots him a teasing glance but doesn't press him further.
I scoot up higher on the bed pulling the blankets over my exposed skin.
Vesper nestles on the edge of the bed while Kieran joins the guys on the other side of the room.
Her glassy eyed stare falls on me. It's clear she has been crying.
“You ok?” she asks. I should be asking her the same.
Am I ok?
No, not really, but neither is she. Having Mortensen as a father would make me physically ill, and yet somehow she is holding it together. I envy how strong she has become with the help of Zain. I'm selfish. I frown, feeling like a disappointment. So much so she can't bear to look at me.
I purse my lips and swipe a stray section of hair behind my ear.
“I'm a lot, Vesp. I know it. I never wanted to open up on how truly messed up I am. I don't like unloading my problems on others. I'm sorry if I'm adding to your life, especially right now.”
She shakes her head vehemently, shutting my rambling down.
“No, don't you dare downplay what happened or your emotional state. This isn't your fault. This is Kieran's. He is destructive, destroying anyone and anything in his path. He's on a warpath with Mortensen, and unfortunately you're the one in the crossfire.”
I pick at a loose thread on the blanket. My eyes fall back to Kieran. His eyes hold a sinister terror that has me on edge.
“I love him.” I confess under my breath, but loud enough for Vesper to hear me.
“Clara. You've been through a lot. We both have. It's okay to be confused,” she rushes out, probably assuming I'm making hasty unsafe choices again.
God knows I'm known for it. “I am still coming to terms with who I am, too. The daughter of a monster. I mean I'm in love with my brother . . .” she huffs.
All of this has been so much to take in. I choose my words carefully.
“It doesn't define you. You two are meant for each other in this fucked up world. No one else could show him love the way you do, Vesp. But I know none of what I said makes sense. Nothing in my life ever has, but after probing through his iron walls and slowly piecing Kieran together,
I think he's also had a fucked up life. Just like Zain.”
She blinks and releases a breath, probably trying to gather if I'm still high on sedatives.
This is the first time I've defended his psychotic behavior.
“He's different. He sterilized you, Clara,” she scoots closer.
“Kieran's past is . . .” she motions with her hands, “ . . . complicated to say the least. Maybe more so than Zain's. He may never let you in. He will always be this way. I know Mortensen terrorized him as a child, but I'm sure it runs deeper than he will ever let on.
I mean that's gotta fuck with a person. You need to understand what you're getting into if you choose this path,” she explains carefully like I've lost my marbles.
Hell, maybe I have. I reflect on her words a little longer.
“I've gathered he never had a mother figure. Mortensen made sure of that. He spent all those years fucking women in the Void thinking there would be no repercussions for his actions. The fact he could toss his wife away like garbage, he could father multiple children while secretly killing them all.
It's abhorrent. He expects Kieran to follow in the same footsteps. Mortensen's mistakes are going to cost him everything. He will pay for what he's done to you, Kieran, his mother, and his other sister.”
I promise. I know I have no business getting involved, but a part of me feels sympathy.
“You're just as much a victim of Mortensen and the Void as we are,” she points out.
Maybe I am, but as always I put myself last.
Time goes by quickly. Vesper and I have the meaningful conversation we've always needed.
Kieran shoots me the occasional glance across the room, urgency in his eyes.
After a few more minutes he slinks back over to my bedside while everyone shuffles out.
His eyes instantly fall to me, transfixed by every breath I take.
He pulls at the collar of his Henley, sliding it over his head.
The intensity of his gaze makes my heart pound.
My eyes scan the intricate artwork etched into his skin, dragging over every scar.
Part of me wonders what the stories are of each one. Goosebumps break out over my body.
“Relax. I'm not going to fuck you. You're too prone to infection. The doctor has you on pills. I needed you to see me,” he rumbles, his voice cracks with vulnerability.
My strength has returned. I slide off the bed and into his waiting arms.
He accepts me into his embrace. “I want you to know you've got all of me.”
He whispers along my skin making the hairs prickles.
This softness to his tone is unnerving. I've grown accustomed to his asshole nature.
“You're beautiful,” I murmur against his bare chest.
He lets out a growly rumble making his sternum vibrate.
“Nah, Nightshade. I'm far from beautiful. I'm a killer. I'm destructive. A deadly sinner.”
His shaking fingers weave into my mussed hair.
He may be those things, but I know like me, who he is isn't his fault. I've watched him fall.
He's a victim of slow attrition caused by the unremitting cruelty of Mortensen.
He will never be able to change. His nature is immutable.
Can I accept him for who he is? Can I acquiesce?
To whittle me down, allowing the dark waters to swallow me whole.
Will he be the one to breathe life back into my lungs?
Knowing one day he may very well discard me.
“I can't stop. I won't stop. I need you for myself.” I hide a smile. “You won't let me go?”
“Nah. Never.”
I let out a sigh of relief. One more thing I can cross off my damn list.
I need her to cooperate. I would have hated to tie her up, lock her away and make her hate me more.
Lies, Kieran, you sick fuck, you would have enjoyed it.
Still, it's easier having her not run from me so I can handle the shit going on at Grimshaw along with Mortensen.
At some point I've gotta face the music and deal with this shit head on.
It's easier without worrying about her running from me. Nowhere is she safe from me.
I kiss her forehead. Strangely, the gesture calms my racing thoughts. Now I get why Zain likes doing it with Vesper. Clara traces slow patterns over my scars. As much as I hate baring myself to her, gaining her trust is vital. Always a motive.
“Will you tell me about them?” Her tired baby blues look up at me and Goddamnit, my stomach does that flip flop bullshit.
I gently move her hand away from my tattooed stomach.
“Maybe one day. Right now, you need to rest. I have some damage control to handle at Grimshaw with Zain,” I explain. Her face falls and I hate that shit.
“You're safe here.”
“Where is here?” She looks around and I realize we never even got a chance to talk about where we are or what is going on at Grimshaw.
It's probably best to keep her in the dark.
I can't risk the Elites hurting her due to her impurity.
I haven't a clue how this shit is going to play out.
People are going to be looking to me for guidance.
It would be a hell of a lot easier to take my girl and run away from this shit, but I can't leave Grimshaw in shambles like the original plan.
As tempting as it is, Zain would never leave Grimshaw without Vesper, and I cannot guarantee their safety without me.
“This is Roland's place. Zain's father. He's one of the good ones. You're safe here,” I assure her.
Roland is a good guy. We had plenty of time to discuss Mortensen's downfall.
We already formulated a plan, but she doesn't need to know that.
She would be too willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good.
Fuck that. Lying is necessary. Those innocent lips pull me in.
I trace my thumb over them. “Be a good girl and stay here. If you don't listen, I'll have to tie you up, sweetheart.”
I threaten. She knows I make good on them.
Her eyes sharpen. There's my little fighter. I chuckle, amused by her resilience. She never ceases to amaze me. Her little arms grip my body tight like I'm her savior. Even after all the abuse. Shit, it makes me hard.
“I can help with whatever is going on,” she protests. Her gaze burns into my skin. If looks could kill . . .
I click my tongue. “Nah, sweetheart. Your body has been through some shit.”
Finally, reluctantly. she nods. I tuck her back into the bed, slip my shirt on and head toward the door. I pause, drinking her in one last time before I step through the doorway leaving her behind.
xxx
The hallway stretches on leading to a dark winding staircase.