My chest is killing me. The cuts my uncle left burn and ache in a way that’s starting to make me feel crazy. I’m desperate to forget my uncle’s hands and fluids all over me, but the pain is there to remind me of what happened in vivid, flashing details. My breath comes heavier as we near the car, and Hadrian’s arm on me tightens.
“It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of everything,” he says. I don’t argue with him thatNinais the one still inside, and she seems more likely to take care of it than him. That doesn’t make sense to me either, and I start to question my entire sense of reality because how is everyone I know such a complete and utter fraud? Is it actually me who can’t tell which way is up?
Hadrian opens the door and helps me into the back seat beside Soren. He leans down, the second kiss he’s attempted, and this time, I’m ready. There isn’t any awkwardness or tension, but I can’t help the deep pain cutting into my chestwhen our lips meet. Does he actually care for me the way I seem to care for him, or am I just a pretty toy for all of them to play with? A nasty voice in my head reminds me that I’m not nearly as pretty now, so wasted away that I barely have tits left and big, gruesome wounds over my chest.
“I’ll be back soon,” he promises as he shuts the door. My ears buzz with the slam, but once it fades, the car is so quiet it may as well be empty. He’s so close to me I can feel his body heat, yet he seems determined to pretend I’m not here. My eyes follow the line of his jaw as he stares out the window, refusing to even acknowledge that I’m here with him. His tattoo wraps his neck, and his chest barely moves.Is he even breathing?It’s cold, and I wish Hadrian had started the car.
I watch my breath form steam in front of my face as I try not to think about the last time I saw Soren or how drawn to him I am even now. Pain and anger build in my chest until I’m internally screaming for him to say anything, yet he doesn’t. I break first, eyes drifting to him, and find that he’s completely turned away from me. He doesn’t even notice my eyes running over him, and I can’t help the twinge of concern that tells me something is incredibly wrong with him. His skin has a strange undertone, replacing his normally lively complexion with a sallow tone. Dark circles sit under his eyes, and he even smells wrong—not bad or unclean, but in this tight space, I can smellhim,and he’s not the same.
“You really have nothing to say to me?” I finally give in when it’s clear he has nothing to offer me. If he isn’t going to make me feel better about it, we can at least fight.
“What would you like me to say?” a practically lifeless voice asks, and he still won’t look at me.
“How about you’re sorry? That seems like a pretty simple one.” My voice is angry and sarcastic rather than tearful, and I thank God for the very small favor.
“You’re not going to forgive me.” The certainty in his statement surprises me. No, I never had any intention of forgiving him, but I didn’t think he would understand that either. The fact he doesn’t even want to fight for me is another knife in the heart I didn’t expect. I’ve already decided I didn’t want him, so why shouldn’t he feel the same fucking hurt?
“So what?” I ask. “Maybe you should give me an apology because you owe it to me, because it’s the right thing to do after you betray someone.” My chest rises and falls with all the feelings I practically forgot I had. My uncle has held me hostage for so long and done so many disgusting things to me that it’s almost stupid that I even care about what he did, but dammit, I do.
“People don’t apologize to make the other person feel better, Sable. Apologies are all about your own guilt. I don’t need you to assuage mine, but thanks for the offer.” His head twitches toward me, but he still doesn’t actually look at my face.
My mouth hangs open. What the actual fuck does he mean by that?
If I thought he couldn’t hurt me worse than he already has, he’s going to prove me wrong. There was a time when I might have let this go, given him space or something, but too much has happened to me, so there isn’t a chance I can just shove this away and buck up.
“Are you getting off on hurting me or something?” My voice thickens with tears despite my best efforts. I don’t want to cry for him or let him know just how badly I regret running away just because of him. I’ve been through absolute hell because I believed the offer they made, but I was stupid, and he barely waited any time at all before betraying me.
He turns from the window, eyes first focusing on the ground before he finds it within himself to pick them up and face me. “Hurting you is the absolute last thing I have ever wanted to do.”He looks me in the eyes as he says it, and after telling me he won’t apologize, the sentiment nearly gives me whiplash.
“Then why did you do it?” I don’t even mean to ask, but the words slip out. I’ve wanted the answer to that question so badly. He stares at me, pupils blown out, and deep inside me, I know that something is very wrong. “Did something happen?” I ask, and I know that sounds stupid. So many damn things have happened, but which one left him like this?
“Nothing happened. Nothing is wrong.” He laughs, and the sound is so odd and disjointed it hurts worse than anything he’s said yet.
I need to close the distance between us and force him to tell me what the hell he’s thinking because my nerves are shot, and I can’t handle any more damn secrets.
I reach toward him, ready to grab his hand, but he shrinks back from my touch. His eyes widen in alarm, and his face pales even further. My hand drops.What the hell?Am I imagining the fear and disgust in his motions, seeing too much of myself in him? My tears start to fall, and I only realize when one lands on the back of my hand.
“I’m sorry,” he says, holding up his hands to keep me from advancing on him again. Even if I wanted to accept, he had already told me that apologies are meant to make the giver feel better, not the receiver.
“What happened, Soren?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer me, just sits there staring at his jeans instead of out the window. It’s so strange to see him like this, like he could fit anywhere in the world. I’m so used to all of us looking like Gothic extras.
“You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
The words hurt so bad. I’m the one who can’t speak now. What does that mean?
“What did he do to you?” he finally asks after a few long minutes of silence.
“You wouldn’t believe me anyway,” I say back to him.
CHAPTER 18
HADRIAN
Carl Briarwick madea mess in this place. Most of the furniture is gone. What’s left is pushed to the side, seemingly to create barricades. Parts of the kitchen and living room are entirely blocked, but all of it seems to have one central goal: keeping a prisoner. The thought gives me chills. Sable lived through whatever this man did to her for a full month. She’s still here and fighting, but I’m so pathetic that I’m scared to ask and learn what happened to her because of us.
Those cuts on her chest make my stomach turn, and I can’t help but imagine what he did to her. My hands tense as I try not to lose my shit.He’s dead, he’s fucking dead, I remind myself as I push the thought away and head upstairs to make sure no one else finds out about what happened here. Throwing open the door to Sable’s bedroom, Liliana, or Nina, is already inside and getting to work. There’s a rug she grabbed from somewhere else in the house, and she has Carl by the ankle as she pulls the body on top of it.
