Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“Not.” I thrust again. “Even.” She moaned. “Close.”
I gripped her chin with my hand and jerked her head toward my mouth, biting down on her lip and then rained kisses down that perfect neck.
Annie tried to wrap her arms around me tighter as I lifted her off the counter still inside her and walked us toward the bed.
I set her at the top near the headboard. “Hold on to this.”
Eyes wide, she grabbed the edge of the headboard near the pillow as I drove into her again and again.
My bed.
Our bed.
Claire’s.
Tears filled my eyes, tears I couldn’t wipe away as the memories surfaced to the point of being so painful I let out a scream. “Your fault! This is your fault!”
“I know.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Ash, I’m so sorry.”
I was so close, but I didn’t want to stop.
I didn’t want this to end.
Because she would go.
Because I would yell at her even though she had given me exactly what I needed.
Because something was wrong with me.
Broken.
“It’s okay,” Annie said softly, and then she hooked her heels behind me and sucked me in deep, held me prisoner. “You have to let go.”
“No.” I clenched my teeth.
“You must.” Tears slid down her cheeks.
We locked eyes.
And I let her go.
I tried.
But the minute I finished.
I pulled her back.
I couldn’t do it.
I would never be able to do it.
I pulled out of Annie and gave her my back. “Leave.”
“Ash—”
“Fucking leave!” I thundered, knocking over the lamp, breaking it on impact.
She swiped her cheeks and then reached for one of my T-shirts from the floor and a pair of sweats I’d worn the night before.
Without even asking, she dressed in my clothes.
Shot me one last look of pity. I would rather die than see that in her eyes.
And left me like I’d asked.
If only she could read my mind.
My heart.
Because now it was sobbing in the corner like a little kid, just wishing she would fight hard enough to stay.
Broken. That’s what I was.
The sound of a door slamming downstairs made me flinch, and then I was back to taking my shower and washing the innocent girl with her khaki skirts and wide eyes down the drain while clinging to a dead woman who was never coming back like she was a lifeline.
“I’ll see you soon,” I whispered. “Soon, baby… soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The darkness calls not once but twice, it demands I answer regardless of my strife, I say the words let me go, the answer is always the same, a resounding no. —Valerian Petrov
Violet
My hands shook as I held them in my lap, picking at my pink fingernail polish. I didn’t have remover, but I needed it to be gone, the pink was one of Dad’s publicist’s idea. It made me look innocent.
And I’d kept it on.
But I wasn’t that girl anymore.
I hadn’t been that girl for a long time, no matter how many times I tried to fake it. And Breaker, he’d always seen through that facade, pushed me until I lashed out, and then rewarded me when I was myself again.
Breaker.
I hung my head as a tear slid down my cheek.
Valerian.
The same, but so very different. My brain told me I was in love with Breaker, not Valerian, but my stupid heart soared whenever he was in the room; it demanded I run into his arms, get on my hands and knees, and beg him to hold me and never let go.
But how do you get past that sort of betrayal?
How?
A soft knock sounded at my door. Mom was probably checking up on me. She’d been worried, everyone had been worried when they realized what Valerian and I had gone through.
What he had done.
“Come in.” My voice was soft, and I hated it because I wasn’t weak. I just had no energy left, and I knew that even if I promised Valerian one more night, it would be impossible for him to even make it inside the house, let alone my room.
I hated the disappointment that coursed through my veins. I hated him for making me like him.
Mom poked her head in. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five, with her sleek shoulder-length black hair and sculpted jaw. She could have been a supermodel, and even though I know Dad can be scary, she somehow tames him in a way that seems impossible. “You holding up?”
“Yeah,” I lied.
“Well…” She winked and then grabbed something or someone behind her and shoved him in my room. Valerian.
He shot me a cocky grin. “Your mom likes me.”
My eyes narrowed, even though my heart leaped in my chest. “All females like you—must be a curse.”
“A gift.” He turned around and gave my mom, MY MOM, a hug and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you for understanding, Luc.”
“Any time.” Her gaze swept over to me as the downstairs door slammed. “I’ll just go distract your father for the next few hours—in fact, it’s a great night to go out to dinner. I’ll just put away what I was making.”