My tears came hot and fast, the unexpected bitch slap I didn’t need. They were soaking into her dirty blonde hair, where she couldn’t see.
“Shiloh…” she whispered again, breathless after she came, but softer this time, not demanding and not angry…Just there.
I hated her for that. Hated her for letting me break on her body, for being the shield I needed when all I wanted was a storm she couldn’t provide.
“Fucking take me, and shut the fuck up. If you want this dick, don’t say another fucking word.”
She quieted, and I found release in the silence.
“Oh fuck. That’s right…just like that. Such a good, obedient girl—feel my fucking come, you dirty slut.”
When I came, it wasn’t a release. It was a complete and total collapse. A sound tore out of me, a sob mixed with a groan, as I pressed my forehead to her back, shaking, so she wouldn’t hear the fucking name uttered that wasn’t hers.
God damn him.
She reached back, her fingers brushing my damp hair. “You don’t have to tell me tonight,” she murmured. “But don’t shut me out forever. Please, Baby. Let me be here for you.”
I swallowed hard, biting back the scream clawing up my throat.
“I can’t,” I whispered, cleaning up the come leaking out of her with my sopping wet shirt. It reminded me of the prison.
The blood and the come. And him.
“Not tonight. Please. I just need sleep.”
She didn’t push again. She just stayed there on the couch, lying back on the leather, letting me cling to her like a lifeline as my tears mixed with the rain still dripping from my hair as she stroked the wet strands.
Even with her warmth surrounding me, her body cradling me like I needed, I felt the pain he had caused still lingering. I couldn’t stop thinking of Carrington. His wicked mouth, his deep voice, and…his fucking love.
No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I begged Xanthy for more. Her mouth couldn’t stop the noise in my head, and I couldn’t fuck him out of my mind and memories. I couldn’t stop hearing his moans. I couldn’t stop feeling the pain he caused me. And…
I couldn’t stop loving him.
“You’re…you’re just a kid?”
I stared at the blonde woman on the ground at my feet. She knew she was going to die, but she just kept looking out the window at a car. No one could see us. This was a one-way glass. Everything else was mirrored.
What did this woman do to my father to deserve his judgment?
“Please, just don’t hurt my son. He does not deserve this cruel life. I won’t fight you. I…I knew this was coming. Just please not him. Not the only light in this dark world.”
She was still talking, her hands dragging across the window as tears fell down her face. People always cried when they died. Some yelled, screamed, and fought me, but in theend, it was always tears. It was like the final omission of accepting their fate.
“I am so sorry for you, sweetheart. You don’t deserve this.”
Her words were confusing. Nothing like my usual targets, she seemed sincere.
“Who are you?” I said aloud, trying to piece together why she was a target.
“It doesn’t matter, sweet boy. I am just an echo now…but please. Don’t hurt him.”
I looked out the window to where her gaze kept flickering. A kid not older than me was sitting in the passenger seat, bored and flicking lint from the open window.
“Please.” She sobbed again, shielding herself, her arms wrapping around her body as if she could block my blade.
“I’m not going to hurt him,” I said.
It was the truth. I was only here for her.
