“I know who broke in, Lucie. You do, too.” He glances over his shoulder, a look of pure agony and distress on his handsome face. “My brother called. I’m leaving.”
I shake my head in denial and clench my jaw. I refuse to have someone else I love leave me. “If he’s threatening you, we can protect you.”
His laugh is cruel this time. “Protect me? From my own kin? Come on, baby, you’re not that stupid, are you?”
The nickname makes me flinch.
“You said he was cruel to you, that you hated him.”
He shrugs, but I know it’s an act. When he opens his mouth again, his next words thaw at my certainty.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve had my fun, gathered the info I needed, and now I’m going where I belong.”
It’s not the first time a man tells me I was fun, only to leave after fucking me. But Toma is different. He stalked me, cooked for me, took care of me.
“Did you think we’d keep playing house, Lu?” he asks with a twisted smile. “That I’d be your dutiful house boyfriend, waiting for you to return from your silly classes?”
My stomach lurches suddenly as his words bring up the insecurities I keep hidden from everyone, the ones I showed him with open palms, presenting them to him like he could take care of them, and make me feel a little lighter. And he did. Only to use them against me. I bite my lower lip and drop my gaze.
I opened myself up, all for my stories to be thrown in my face. I pick at my sleeve, shaking my head. This isn’t happening.
But Toma isn’t done. My heart isn’t broken yet and it seems that’s his only goal. “Look at you. I’m your only friend because no one else finds you interesting enough. Not a single person back home calls you these days, and even Mina couldn’t wait to leave town in hiding.”
“She had to, you know that. You’re just trying to push me away.” My voice wavers. “I won’t let you.”
Tears gather at the corners of my eyes. When I glance back up at him, he’s straightened up. His lips curl as he delivers his next jab.
“I’m a monster, Lucie. That’s what I do. I use, I destroy and I hurt. You’re just collateral damage.”
“You’re not a monster.” I surge forward, framing his face like I’ve done so many times before, clutching him. His hands land on my wrists but he doesn’t try to dislodge me and hope blooms. But his eyes have a distinct sheen to them. One I only saw when he tracked Dante with me last summer. It’s pure determination. He has a goal, a task and whatever it is, he won’t stop until he’s reached it. “You took care of me. You protected me,” I try, voice breaking already. “You love me. I know you do.”
“Do you think because you study psychology you can analyse me?” He cants his head to the side. The disdain I read on his charming face is ugly. He pushes me away. “God, you’re truly pathetic, Lu. So willing to be chosen. Guess what? You’re not that special.”
“Don’t talk to me like that,” I retort as my cheeks redden with embarrassment and anger. “Don’t cheapen what we have because you’re scared. You have me.”
No one has ever talked to me this way. I have. But hearing it spoken is worse than whatever I said to myself in the silence of my own head. And I hate that it’s coming from him.
I trusted him. Told him secrets I never shared with anyone. Opened myself again after vowing I’d never hurt like I’ve hurt when I lost my family.
“What we had was just sex, that’s it.”
“That’s not true,” I say, the anger simmering just out of reach. But Toma isn’t done yet. Every time I push myself to challenge his words, he pushes harder.
His nose wrinkles and a dead expression takes over his face. The shift is terrifying and I take a step back. He follows, looming over me and for the first time since I met him, I’m truly understanding why he’s called The Beast.
“Are you going to cling to me like you did all the other people who used you before?” He asks, all traces of kindness gone. “I mean, we can fuck one last time if that makes you feel better.”
I bare my teeth and slap him. The inferno of my emotions surges inside my chest. It wants to claw at him, make him pay for making me feel so dirty.
“You and I both know we can’t escape who we are,” he says, almost to himself. “Look at you, with anger blooming inside you. You want to kill, don’t you?”
Underneath the red rage, one last bit of reason comes up. It’s one last attempt at saving what we shared. I already know it won’t work. I try nonetheless.
“You gave me your virginity.”
“God, Lu. It’s not that deep. You know what my brother does, right? Can’t wait to have all the sluts I want sucking my cock day and night.” He licks his lips, and I grimace, my fists clenching. I want to punch him. I hate it when men talk about women and sex workers like they’re a commodity. I can’t believe he’d stoop so low just to hurt me. The realisation has nausea rising up my throat.
“My only regret is that I never got to fuck that fat ass of yours, baby,” he says.
