“That’s not what I said.” He brings his hand up over the side of his neck and touches the small puncture wounds there before bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick off the blood.
“Then enlighten me,” I demand with my hand on my hip.
“Just know that everything I’m doing here, is for a fucking purpose. You either catch on or you keep running away from the truth, Reckless.”
“Why can’t you give me a fucking straight answer, Trace? What is the point of all these childish antics.” I swing arms around, displaying my frustration. “And why the fuck do you keep calling me that nickname?”
He smiles, a quiet but deadly smirk meant all for himself but it lingers a moment too long and catches me in my core. He turns his eyes down to look at me, lowering his voice to a gravely rumble.
“Because, you letting me have your innocence was reckless. I got one little taste of the sweetest sin and it’s caused madness in me ever sense. You had access to flip my fucking switch and that’s exactly what you did. You broke your promise and you stabbed me in the fucking back. Reckless. Well, I made a promise to you, remember Olivia.If you run, I will fucking find you.And it was very reckless of you to not heed my warning.” He looks at me. His deadly hazel eyes spark a fire inside of me, igniting and spreading as he gazes over every inch of my body as he lowers his voice to a dangerous whisper. “But letting you into my fucking heart, that was reckless ofme.”
I used to be able to read him, used to be able to tell what he was feeling or thinking just by looking into the depths of his eyes. He used to let me in that way. But now he’s veiled by a dark mystery that he’s hell-bent on keeping locked up, only to force me to succumb and submit to his depravity. And I want it. I want his wrath for some reason.
But my heart aches hearing his words.
“Does that mean you regret us?” I ask, letting the sadness in my tone go unmasked. “Because I don’t,” I add and he barely looks at me, but I can tell there’s still something there. I can tell he’s not truly numb to what we had. Maybe he just needs to get this out of his system. Maybe I just need to let him.
But what promise did I break?
“Why did you come back?” I decide to ask, attempting my luck again, trying to get him to give me a straight answer and when he steps up, adrenaline thrums in my chest.
“To show you the fucking value of keeping promises.”
I scoff as I roll my eyes. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“You think whatever you want, but you will know the fucking truth.”
“Or you can just fucking tell me what you think I did, Trace. Please.” I take another step toward him, both of us going back and forth, back and forth.
But he shakes his head at me.
“No, that’s not fair,” I start, letting my disappointment bleed through. Hoping that he can see just how fucking desperate I am. “You won’t tell me what the hell is going on and I’m just expected to fall in line and act like I still fucking care for you. Is that what you want, Trace? After everything you’ve done to me. You broke me, Trace. You left me in pieces and now I need you to put me back together. Can’t you fucking see that?” I’m surprised at my own words, having let them come naturally. An admission I was trying to push down, but now it’s out. My vulnerability is displayed for him on a silver platter with an open invitation to feed on.
But once again, he denies my pleas.
“You want me to fill your void, Olivia? You want me to make you whole again.” He walks up to me, so quick that I almost have to step back. But I freeze as he lifts his thumb, running it over the plump curve of my bottom lip.
He lowers his tone to a sultry, dark whisper as he looks at my mouth.
“The only problem is, Iamyour fucking void.”
I slap him, rearing my hand back and swinging my open palm into the side of face. He keeps his thumb in place as his head turns on the impact, his face immediately turning red with the mix of my contact and the cold.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I seethe through clenched teeth.
And then, Trace starts to chuckle as he turns back to face me. He drops his hand to grab his dick, seemingly trying to adjust himself behind his jeans. When I look down, I see how unquestionably hard, and big, he is and my cheeks heat.
He pulls my attention back up as he grabs me by the front of my throat and pulls me into him, our mouths nearly touching once more.
“You wanna know something, little reckless?” he breathes over my lips. “I’m kind of fucking crazy.”
And then he pushes me back.
Humiliation courses through me and my mind spins with annoyance. I can’t keep letting him taunt me like this. I have to put my mind back into focus and leave this behind, even if it’s going to feel like it would break me all over again.
Over the years, I guess it can be said that I’ve been known for my truculence, for my eagerness to stand my ground and quite frankly, not afraid of confrontation. And I want to snap at him, I want to argue and fight. But part of me wonders if that’s what he wants. So instead I just turn quietly and start to walk away.
I hear the sound of mud sloshing under my feet as I walk, but then a second pair of footsteps joins in.
