Chapter 25
Aro
Johnny and I have been circling each other for weeks. I don’t understand him. He said he needs me for something, but he won’t talk to me. One minute he acts like he cares, and the next he’s avoiding me. Whiplash doesn’t begin to cover it.
Meanwhile, things with Sean are… amazing. He sleeps in my bed every night. We make love almost every morning. If I’m being honest with myself, I fell for him the moment we met, but those feelings have grown over the past year. This has felt like a long time coming.
I absolutely hate feeling useless. I hate not having a plan. Being tugged along by the whims of men has never settled well with me. This situation is no different. But the more I learn about Johnny now, the more he frightens me. He’s a full-blown psychopath. He murders people for a living, and he doesn’t feel bad about it. Not one bit.
I keep searching for the young man I used to know, but he’s not there. I don’t think he’s ever coming back. Even when Johnny shows me kindness—he bought me an entire wardrobe last week when I bitched about my lack of clothes—it feels like there’s something in it for him. He’s selfish. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been selfish, too, but I still feel like I’m redeemable. To some extent.
I snuck out of bed, and I’m in the kitchen wearing my fucking ridiculous lace trimmed, silk night gown when I hear someone enter the penthouse. I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Johnny. I left Sean in bed when I needed a late-nightsnack.
“Can’t sleep?” Johnny’s voice is smooth, but almost… tired? That’s unlike him.
I stop, exhale slowly. “Not really.”
I turn to face him. He’s leaning against the wall, hands shoved in his pockets like he hasn’t got a care in the world, but his eyes give him away. They’re on me. Too sharp. Too calculating. Watching me like I’m a puzzle he can’t quite solve.
“You shouldn’t wander at night,” he says.
“Why? You’re the only monster here. And I can handle you.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “I know you can.”
We stand there in charged silence. I hate how easy it is to fall into old patterns with him. How familiar the air between us feels. I hate even more that part of me still aches with curiosity about him.
Before I can talk myself out of it, the question slips out. “Where are Axel and Nik?”
His smile disappears. Just like that, the tension shifts.
“Why?” His voice is clipped now.
I lift my chin. “Because they were my friends. Because they matter to me. Because I think about them every single day.”
His jaw flexes. He pushes off the wall, taking one slow step toward me. “You really want to talk aboutthemwith me? Right now?”
“Yes.” I hold his stare, refusing to back down.
His gaze hardens. No point pretending, he’s jealous, and he hates that I know it.
“I’ve given you protection. I’ve kept you alive when no one else could. And you’re still thinking aboutthem?”
Anger flares hot in my chest. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to play savior and then act like I owe you something for it.”
He steps closer again. Too close. I can feel the heat coming off him.
“I don’t want you to owe me,” he says low. “I want you to see me.”
“I do see you.” My voice shakes with the weight of it. “I seeexactlywhat you are now.”
His mouth is a hard line. His breathing rough. He looks like he’s about to say something brutal, but instead—
He kisses me. It’s not gentle. Not sweet. It’s teeth and tongues and years of fury we never dealt with. A fight we can’t win, bleeding out through the press of our mouths.
I shove at his chest, but he won’t let go. And the worst part? I don’t want him to. Not yet. Not when so many years of confusion and pain are tangled between us.
Finally, I wrench free, gasping. “Don’t,” I whisper, voice raw. “Don’t do this to me.”
