We’re nearing the cabin when I finally speak, attempting to keep my voice calm. “Why didn’t you tell me the day it happened?”
“I was scared. I don’t know.” She lifts her watery gaze to mine. “I think I know who it is, and … I’m not sure he’s going to stop.” Her admission makes every part of me go rigid.
I kill the engine when we get to the cabin and turn toward her. “I want all the details. His name, age, where he lives, anything you know about him. Am I understood?” I’ll sort the bastard out. He’ll never come near her again.
I push open the door and exit the vehicle, making my way toward her side. Offering her my hand, she accepts with a small smile, and I know I need to distract her from what happened. This is a good thing. But the problem is, it’s all my fucking fault she’s in this mess.
Inside the cabin, I watch as Arabella moves through the comfortable living room, which is furnished with soft couches and bean bags. We used to party out here, but since I started teaching, my focus had shifted from parties to revenge.
The girl before me spins on her heels, meeting my stare. “This is perfect,” she tells me with a grin on her face. The haunted look she had in the car has dissipated, but I’m certain it will return.
Unless I do something.32ArabellaHe has a smirk across his lips, but there’s emotion shining in his eyes I can’t quite put my finger on. It could be guilt, or worry, I’m not sure.
“It’s one of my favorite places.” Elian moves toward me, stopping inches from me. “We’re alone here.” His words skitter over my skin, making me shiver. “And nobody can hear you scream my name.”
“Is that a promise?” I tease, twining my arms around his neck, and I hold on as he lifts me against him. My legs wrap around his waist, but he doesn’t walk us into the bedroom. Instead, he settles on the couch, leaving me straddling him.
“Tell me your secrets, little deviant,” he says, not entirely a question, but also not an order. “I want to know you. Tell me about your folks, about you growing up.”
He seems genuinely curious. I open my mouth to respond, but I’m not sure how. The reminder of why I came to Black Mountain flicks through my mind, bringing with it the heartache I’ve shoved down into the recesses of my soul.
“If I talk about it, I’ll only break down.”
“Let me see you,” Elian pleads. Cupping my face in both hands, he pulls me toward him, bringing our mouths within inches of each other. “I want to see you bared for me.”
“I can only do it physically.”
“That doesn’t work for me, little deviant,” he says confident. “I want it all. Every dark part of you.” His hands release my face, and one moves to my neck, the other trails down and grips one of my breasts. Elian squeezes harshly, stealing my breath along with sending pleasure skittering through me. “Give me everything.” He practically growls the command, and I feel it. Something deep inside me breaks loose from the box I’d put it in, and tears spring to my eyes. “Did Daddy hurt you, sweetheart?” Elian coos. “Did he make you cry?” Another question as his one hand releases my breast and grips my hip, moving me over his hardening cock.
Tears trickle from my eyes when I think about the funeral. The words my mother muttered were nothing more than fabricated emotion. Just like the woman herself. She didn’t want me. She never loved Dad. All she wanted was the fame that came with being a politician’s wife.
“Tell me, deviant,” Elian says. “I want it all.”
“My father died. He was killed, and I never got to say goodbye,” I finally spit out as anger overtakes the pain, but Elian’s hands don’t relent. His grip on my neck is still harsh, along with the way his hand moves me over his crotch. “And I was taught not to feel.”
“Feel this,” he says, lifting his hips to press against my core. “That’s real. Not some fucking rule about not feeling emotion.”
“My mother didn’t like my tears. She never enjoyed seeing my pain or listening to my heartbreak.” I don’t know why, but the admission falls from my lips. His fingers grip my hips, his rough fingertips sending shivers through me as he holds me like I’m a fragile doll. His possessive hold cutting the safety net that I’d so perfectly laid my pain under.
“She’s a fucking liar,” Elian sneers as if he knows her personally. “Emotion is what makes us feel alive. The happiness and the sadness,” he continues as he taunts me with pleasure and steals my breath.
“How do you know?” I whisper, and we both still. Our gazes locked. My mouth still inches from his. “How can living with heartbreak make you feel alive? I just want to be numb. This here,” I say as I roll my hips, giving me the friction, I crave. “That’s the only thing that ever made sense to me. The night I was arrested, most people think it’s because I was partying it up ...”