“It’s okay.” He steps in, and I take a matching step back. Bending down, he picks up the knife and puts it in a drawer. “What are you doing awake?” he asks through a yawn.
I bite my lip and bow my head, too ashamed to tell him what he did to me while at Dollhouse. I should never have believed he’d be that way. That he would hurt me. He’s been the best thing to happen in my life. The Lords want to ruin it. It’s working.
“Eve, I want you to talk to me. Tell me what I can do to make it better.”
I run a hand through my hair, avoiding eye contact. “I’m fine.” It’s the same lie I always seem to be telling him. If he knew how fucked-up my head was, he’d run the other direction.
“No, you’re not.” He steps into me, and I lean into him.
“It was just a bad dream.” Another lie.
Without another question, he picks me up and carries me back to bed. My mind tells me it’s because he wants me far away from the knife he put in the drawer. My suspicion is confirmed when he pulls the bathroom door closed behind us.
He thinks I’m suicidal.
I cuddle up to his body and he sighs, relaxing into the mattress. We lie in silence for a few seconds when I speak. “Why are we here?”
“It was the closest to Dollhouse,” he answers softly. “I didn’t want you at Carnage, and my house is on the other side of town.”
Why doesn’t he want me to return to Carnage? Is Haidyn mad at me? Probably. “Did I pass?” I try to lighten the mood. I’m embarrassed that I freaked out when I woke up. That I accused him of hurting me in such a way. That I looked as weak as I was for so many years.
Kashton gives a soft chuckle. “You’re perfect.” He kisses my forehead.
“Can we go to my house tomorrow?” I ask through a yawn. Hopefully, I can get some sleep. My body is so tired, but my mind is running.
“No,” he answers, and I hold in a sigh. “Evan is still on the run, and that’s the first place he’s going to go looking for you. But we can go to mine.”
I’ll take that offer.
“Get some rest, angel.”
A part of me wants sex right now. Wants him to throw me onto my stomach, pin my arms behind my back and force my legs open so he can fuck me until I pass out. It would probably help me sleep better. I’ve avoided it for so long, but now that I know what it can feel like to really be wanted, I crave it more now than I did then, when I was on drugs.
Maybe it’s the reassurance I need. That he still finds me sexually attractive.As fucked up as it sounds, no matter what I went through at Dollhouse, the training never stopped. It was constant. Neither my body nor my mind ever had a break.
I run my hand over his chest, letting my nails softly graze his skin. His muscles flex as I trail a path over his chiseled stomach.
He wraps his hand around my wrist before I can slide it into his boxer briefs. “Eve,” he warns.
“I want you to fuck me,” I admit, wanting him to know my intentions. I’m not going to be the weak woman I was a week ago; the one who was kneeling in the shower, vomiting. It took me years to find myself after Bill saved me from Dollhouse. I won’t allow them to take that much of my life this time.
He sighs. “You need to rest.”
“For how long?” Might as well give me a timeline.
“As long as you need.”
“And who decides that?”
“Me.”
I huff. “What if I say I’m ready now?”
“You can say whatever you want, doesn’t mean I’m going to believe you.”
I get a pain in my chest at his choice of words. I know he meant it sexually, but I feel like he means I can say I’m not suicidal but that doesn’t mean he believes me.
Knowing I’m not going to win, I drop it. The fact is, he doesn’t want me.
