Chapter 9 #3
Look at me, Mama. Look what I’ve become—all painted lips and perfect smiles, hands that know how to take coins from men who’d sooner choke the life from me than look me in the eye.
My fingers drifted to my throat. The skin there still felt bruised, tender. Rhodes’s hands. The way his eyes glazed over like I was a rag doll he could squeeze the life out of for sport. If I hadn’t kicked . . . if I’d been slower . . .
I shut my eyes, nails digging into my collarbone. A steady stream of tears fell from my cheeks and soaked into the frozen earth beneath me.
“You’re hard to find sometimes.”
As quick as lightning, I sat upright, twisting to face the voice who’d silently appeared from the morning tombstone shadows.
Nik.
My brow pinched. I hated the way my heart skipped a beat the moment my eyes rested on him. There he was, dressed head to toe in navy and gold, with a thick, dark grey woollen cloak around his shoulders. The sun caught on the edges of his curls, igniting them into copper flames.
“Well congratulations, you win a gold star. Here I am.” The words tumbled out, coated in a poison I couldn’t control.
Nik shoved his hands in his pockets, but stayed on the spot. “I stopped by the Silver Finch, but you weren’t there. I just wanted to—”
I rose to my feet, brushing away the dead leaves that stuck to my skirts before I turned to face him. “What? What could you possibly want from me, huh? You got some saviour complex that needs scratching?”
Emerald eyes dulled. “I—I don’t want anything.”
“No?” I took a small step towards him, my fists clenched by my sides.
“Then what the hell is all this? You watch me. You follow me. You keep jumping in like I need rescuing—but gods forbid you actually touch me. Won’t even pay to bed me like everyone else.
So what is it? What the fuck do you want? !”
A sob caught in my throat again. I had to bite the inside of my cheek for fear I would wail into the morning chill, embarrassing myself even further.
Nik pulled his hands from his pockets, throwing his arms out wide. “Is it really so strange that someone would care about you, Sapphire?”
“From what I’ve seen, no one cares unless they have a reason. And strangers never do.” I huffed, my breath curling into the frigid air.
“I see you,” he said, quiet but certain. “I need you to believe that. That you’re not alone. And maybe—just maybe—believe that the dark isn’t all there is.”
My chest rose and fell as I sucked cold air into my lungs. So he was delusional. That’s what it was. He obviously saw the brighter side of life, rather than living in the reality of its darkness.
An empty laugh tumbled from my lips. “Hope is a ladder that I keep sliding down, and alone is the only damn thing I am.”
I took a few steps towards him until I had to tip my chin up to meet his gaze. His eyes bore into my soul. What he’d find there was nothing but a hollow wound, festering with the bitterness of all the cruelties life had handed me on a silver platter.
Nik opened his mouth as if to speak, his fresh, pine scent wrapping around me like it wanted to know me.
Too bad I wouldn’t let it.
I stabbed one finger towards his chest like a blade.
“My mother’s rotting in the ground, my body’s been owned by men who didn’t even look at my face, and every time I close my eyes, I see .
. . him. I can’t breathe, I can’t sleep, and now I’ve got some shiny guardian hovering over me like I’m worth something! ”
I shoved his chest with both hands, just once, hard, but he was built from marble and barely flinched. “If this is about some reward, if you’re expecting some glory for dragging a whore out of hell—”
“Sapphire, stop—” His voice was low, pleading.
“Then you can fucking forget it.” I let the words fade out.
Nik briefly flicked his eyes over my face, before finding my gaze again. He took a small step towards me, and then stopped, hesitation hanging between us like a noose. “I just wanted to know if you were okay. I don’t need anything from you.”
I hated his kindness. I’d just torn through him with words laced in poison, but he simply stood there, taking it all in stride. Why was he allowed to be so handsome, so perfect, so—him—while I was a mess of a woman who couldn’t control her emotions?
The way he looked at me was too much. I turned away like I had nothing else to say, but the pressure behind my eyes became too much. The flood gates opened, and tears burst through again, falling without my permission.
I whirled around, sobbing and furious. “Stop being nice, Nik! Stop acting like you can fix me! I’m not your cause. I’m not your redemption. I’m ruined. I’m asperity in a pretty dress. And I don’t want to be seen!”
The light in his eyes flickered, then went out—smothered by pain.
I’d done it this time. Pushed him far enough that I could feel the distance settle between us like cold iron. Good. Better this way.
I didn’t want to wait for him to say anymore. I doubted he would ever speak to me again, anyway.
So I did what I do best.
I pulled myself together, put the mask back on, and I turned and walked away.