I collapsed onto the cold tiles of the kitchen floor, my chest tightening as everything crashed down on me, my palms holding my face.
Tears slipped through my fingers, the sobs coming harder and faster until I was curled up, unable to stop.
I hated him. I hatedme. I hated everything.
Eventually, drained and devastated, I plodded to my room. I didn’t bother to change out of my clothes as I collapsed onto the bed, pulling the covers over myself. My head spun, my body heavy with exhaustion and defeat.
I lay there, closing my eyes, hoping I’d never wake up.
11
THEON
Ainsley wouldn’t stop sleeping. Out of twenty-four hours, she was asleep for eighteen of them. She hardly ate either. The only day she managed not to sleep like a log was when Vincent came over, and they’d sat in the living room talking for close to three hours. That was one day out of seven. The rest, she was a ghost, drifting between sleep and silence. Her phone was dead eighty percent of the time, always buried somewhere in her room, out of reach.
I could see her better now, more clearly than before, thanks to the new window I had fixed in her room and the CCTV hidden on the tree outside. It made my surveillance easier, more precise. Too precise.
I was so close to breaking in and screaming at her to get over it. Seeing Ainsley in despair had always brought me some twisted sense of satisfaction, but now it just grated on me, and I couldn’t figure out why. What had changed? Was it because I knew, deep down, that I was the reason she was at the party?
No. It was more than that.
Since I was the reason behind her unemployment, I thought making her see how successful her mates were would slap my senses back into place, and make me get back on track to carry out the multiple tortures I’d planned for her. No, I was wrong.
That bastard, Blake, had made a monumental mistake. His only job had been to get her to the party, nothing more. I didn’t know he had that damn video. It wasn’t until I had nearly beaten him into the ground that he’d admitted why he did it.
Blake had been holding onto the video as leverage, something to dangle over my head in case I decided to post the footage I had of him fucking his stepmother. He thought sending Ainsley’s video to the group was a brilliant way to get back at me—dumbass. It was, and he almost paid with his life.
I was never planning to post the video anyway, but Blake forced my hand that night, and I made sure the consequences followed. His father’s business plummeted in rank so fast, it was embarrassing. His board members had pulled their support, one by one, until there was nothing left. Blake had gambled and lost everything in one move, and he’d been sent out of the country by his father till further notice.
It was midnight again.
That damn familiar pull clawed at my chest, and before I knew it, I was already outside her house. Again. Every night since the party, I’d been sneaking in, unable to control myself. It wasn’t enough to watch from a distance. I needed to be close, to see her in the flesh, just to make sure she was still breathing. Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
I slipped in like I’d done a hundred times before, the lock clicking quietly behind me. My footsteps were silent as I moved through the dark hallway, knowing the layout of her house better than I knew my own. The place smelled like her—like faint vanilla and that perfume she always wore, the one that hit me hard and made me grit my teeth every time I caught a whiff of it.
Her room was dark, the only light coming from the moon spilling through the window. And there she was, curled up in bed, her body barely a shadow under the thin blankets. She was facing away from the door, the gentle rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was even alive.
I stood beside her bed, staring at her, unable to move for a moment. This was what I’d become—this restless, obsessive mess of a man, sneaking into her house just to make sure shewas okay. Again, If I had known confronting her for the first time after several years would bring these feelings back to the surface, I would have aborted this plan and saved myself the struggle of battling with decisions when it came to her. I thought they were buried.
Every part of me wanted to touch her, shake her awake, do something to pull her out of this hollow existence she was slipping into. But I didn’t. Because I shouldn’t.
I just watched.
Few minutes later, I lowered myself on her bed, my hand itching to touch her skin. I found out that I liked it when I did, even if it was to choke her. Any body contact with her was electrifying.
Eventually, I gave into the beast and pulled her cover down to her thighs, and damn, I wish I hadn’t.
Fuck.Blood rushed to my cock at lightning speed.
I’d seen Ainsley walk around her house in panties and strapless tube bra, but seeing it in person made me want to hold her down. The sudden need curled around my stomach and sank into my bones, making me grit my teeth to keep it at bay.
I hated how much she affected me, how much of a control she had over my hormones.
I wouldn’t be able to stand it if I touched her, but I did anyway because I couldn’t help it. She was warm, soft, pliable, and so damn sexy she made me come in my pants sometimes.
My rough palm slid down her body to her hip, loving the smoothness of her curve. My dick hardened in my trousers, every nerve hammering to flip her over and tie her up.
“You grew some nerves today.”
