Текст книги "Destroyed"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

I stepped back from the metal shield, looking toward the bathroom door.

Wide open, with a cloud of steam billowing behind him, Fox stood glaring at me.

My stomach twisted drinking in his tight posture, the dampness of his hair. He didn’t say a word—he didn’t need to. His gaze was so intense it pummelled me from across the room. So many questions, so many accusations lived in his snowy depths.

I thought I’d never see you again.

Our deal is broken.

Leave.

Run.

I don’t want you here.

I tried to communicate just as silently, showing him just how pissed off I was, but that I understood, too.

You hurt me, but I came back.

You owe me for what you did.

I hate you, but I want to help you.

The silent conversation ended with Fox standing taller, drawing my eyes down his fully clothed body. His messy dark-bronze hair dripped moisture onto his shoulders, but his toned body was encased in a black sweater and black cotton trousers.

He dressed even thinking he was alone—why? I could understand physical shyness—even though he had no reason to be shy with his physique, but I couldn’t understand the need to hide whatever existed beneath his clothing.

I spoke before I consciously made the decision to communicate. “What happened to you?”

His jaw was swollen, and one eye had a large cut beneath it, all puffed and purple. Blood crusted his hairline and he kept an arm tight against his side, protecting either his organs or ribs.

I balled my hands, fighting the urge to nurse him as he shuffled from the doorway toward the bed. He never took his eyes off me.

The energy in the room sparked and fizzled with awareness. I’d never been so in-tune with someone before—regardless if I lusted for them or hated them.

I bit my lip as he hissed in discomfort, lowering himself from standing to sitting on the bed. Despite his obvious pain, there was something different about him.

Gone was the fine edge of…I didn’t know… power, hatred, poise maybe? He lacked the tense fierceness, the tightly reined control. Before, he looked like he could reap Armageddon, now he looked…relaxed. He looked tired.

The man before me was… content. A strange conclusion for someone bleeding and breathing shallowly, but his white-grey eyes weren’t haunted. They were clear and focused and angry.

My heart fluttered, drawn to the damaged, magnetised to the need in him. Seeing him vulnerable wilted away my anger.

Carefully, he swung his legs onto the bed and reclined against the black fluffy pillows. His eyes trailed over my body, taking their time, branding me.

The bruising in my core turned from aching to throbbing.

You came here to scream at him. Don’t fall into the trap of attraction.

Sucking in a determined breath, I stomped to the end of the bed and clutched the gnarly tree bed-end. The cold metal gave me something to focus on. I glowered. “You hurt me last night. I came back to tell you exactly what I thought of you—to inflict some pain in retribution, but I see karma works fast and someone beat me to it.”

His jaw worked, but he didn’t reply.

Fine, if that was how he wanted to play. “Want me to guess how you came to be bruised and beaten? You want to know the truth about me…well, I want to know the truth about you. If I had more sense I would never have come back, but lucky for you I care about someone more than myself, and I’m doing this for them. I’m earning the money for their future.”

“Well that just makes you fucking selfless then, doesn’t it?” Fox snarled. “I don’t want to hear about your reservations and regrets returning to me. If you feel that strongly just piss off.”

I rolled my eyes, my temper heating. “You think I would willingly come back for abuse? Don’t kid yourself. You practically raped me, and I should feel what exactly? I’ll tell you what I feel: lust for the money you promised. I made a mistake thinking I could enjoy my time with you. I wasn’t mentally prepared for you taking me because I’d hoped I would find satisfaction, but you taught me yet another lesson, and I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Fanning my arms, I snapped, “I’m here. I’m here for your enjoyment, and I don’t expect anything in return but your cash. I guess I truly am a whore.”

His eyes flashed. “You’re not a fucking whore. And I get it—you want to hurt me by saying you no longer want me in any capacity but to pay you. Congratulations, I understand completely.”

“Good.”

“Fine!” His face twisted, bruising and redness on his cheek highlighting his scar. “At least this way we know exactly where we stand.”

I nodded. “Precisely.”

Fox’s eyes lost the flash of anger filling suddenly with tiredness. “Anything else you wish to scream at me before I pass out?” He looked defeated—smaller and vulnerable.

My heart thumped, diluting my anger with compassion. Running my finger along the top of the bed-end, I asked, “What happened to you? Where did you go last night?”

He scowled, shaking his head. “I went nowhere and nothing happened.” He winced a little as he shifted on the bed. “Oscar told me he dropped you off last night, but he refused to tell me your address.”

Relief siphoned through my blood. There was no way I wanted Fox knowing where I lived—not while Clara was there. “And he beat you up for asking?”

Fox laughed, holding his side. “As if.” His eyes narrowed. “I got someone else.”

My mouth plopped open. “You asked for that to happen to you?”

His lips twisted, refusing to answer. His eyes fell to the necklace he’d put on me last night. The silver disappeared down my cleavage, tickling my stomach whenever I breathed.

I sucked in a small breath as his eyes flashed to smouldering. Ignoring the burn in my belly, I pointed at the split in his lip. “Did you go searching for pain?”

His eyes flared and he winced. “Shut up.”

My heart thudded knowing I was on the right track. “I’m not going to shut up until I know the truth.” Pacing at the bottom of the bed, I added, “You’re bleeding. If you didn’t ask for this, then what happened? Did someone mug you?”

He sighed heavily. “Something like that.” His gaze latched onto mine. “You’re forgetting our deal. You agreed to answer my questions, not the other way around.” He flinched as a wave of pain went through his body. “It doesn’t matter anyway. You left. Our deal is void. Get out. I don’t want you here.”

I scowled. “I left because you hurt me. You promised me you wouldn’t. It wasn’t me who broke the rules—it was you.”

He snarled. “I got what I wanted. I fucked you, and I didn’t have to pay. You’re the one who walked out the door and left—you’re the one who decided I wasn’t worth two hundred thousand dollars to stick it out for a few weeks.” His hands balled on either side of his body. “Don’t you get it? I got what I wanted. I fucked you and now I’m over it, so do me a favour and leave. I don’t want you here.” He clipped every word, layering them with hostility.

My pissed off mood deflated. I should’ve been offended, annoyed, or jilted, but instead I just felt sad. Sad for him. Sad for his lies.

The more I looked, the more I saw, and the more my heart went out for him. He was like a rabid dog, snarling, frothing at the mouth, guaranteed to bite my hand off if I got too close, but in his feral eyes lurked a plea. Something that said: don’t give up on me even if I bite.

Narrowing my eyes, I snapped, “You’re rude, but it won’t work.”

“What won’t fucking work?”

I moved from my place at the foot of the bed, inching closer to him. He stiffened, glaring at my every step. I stopped at the side of the bed just out of touching distance. His body never unwound. If anything, his muscles bunched harder.

“You’re pushing me away because you’re a coward. You don’t want me to leave as I’m the only one strong enough to put up with your bullshit.”

His face went stark white. Eyes flashed with livid rage. “What did you just say to me?”

“You’re a coward. You hide behind violence. You dish it out. You invoke it to happen to you, but really, you’re lost and alone and you’re drowning.” My mind collided with so many things I wanted to say. “Something’s destroying you inside. You’re looking for a way out but you can’t find it. That’s why you surround yourself with fighters. It’s a world you know. The only world you can breathe in.”

His teeth ground together; his body vibrated. “Get. Out. Get out!”

Ignoring him, I rushed on. “I think you bribed me to stay, because I’m the only one you have ever felt any connection with. I think chemistry and attraction is completely new to you and instead of asking me out on a date, you stole my knife and kidnapped me. I don’t know what’s going on in that brain of yours, but I’m beginning to understand.”

He sucked in a harsh breath, his muscles shuddering with anger. “You think you know me? You think you can wave a fucking magic wand and fix me?” He moved to get off the bed, and I backed away. His feet touched the floor, but he didn’t stand up, almost as if he forced himself to stay seated, to stay away from me. “It was a mistake to fuck you. It was a mistake to let you anywhere near me. You’re crazy with your stupid conclusions. I’m not a pet project for a girl scout to fix. Get the fuck out and stop boring me.”

“I’m boring you? Oh, my God, you’re completely backwards. If you were bored you wouldn’t care what I thought. You’re not bored, Fox, because you know I’m right. What do you want from me? What were you hoping to achieve?”

From my place in the centre of the carpet, I balled my hands. “Did you think you’d win my affection by raping me? Or how about making me swoon with your fucked-up inability to be touched? I wanted you—I’ve been honest about that right from the start—but what I don’t want is a man who’s so far off the realm of sanity that I can’t understand or predict. If you gave me the money right now, I’d leave, and I would never think about you again.”

My throat closed on the lie.

Fox clutched the edge of the mattress. “Don’t let me keep you, dobycha. Congratulations on fucking hurting me more than the injuries I’m suffering. You just proved how shallow you are. You never truly wanted me—if you did, you’d want more than just what my bank balance can give you!”

My entire body hummed with anger. “I’m the shallow one? How about you? You think you’re one-dimensional; you provide a scarred scary persona who owns an illegal fight club, but that’s not the truth. Want to hear my version of the truth and then you can see if I’m shallow enough not to care?”

I didn’t wait for his reply. “You can’t be touched. I would never be able to guess why that is but it left me wondering—why did you buy me for sex if you never undress and seem to abhor the very idea of being near anyone? You wear clothes as if they’ll protect you from something. You sculpt and work with metal because you have control over the destiny of the piece that you’re creating. You’re screwed up and confused and—”

“Shut up! Get the fuck out.” I leaped back as Fox stood upright. He roared, “Stop it. Just leave me alone!”

My ears rang from his fierceness; my heart bruised my ribs it thudded so hard, but for the first time, I sensed a crack. He wasn’t Mr. Obsidian in that moment, he was just a man with a primal temper. A man on the verge of losing it.

“No. You’re going to hear me.” I’m going to break you.

His teeth ground loudly sending shivers scattering over my back. Swallowing hard, I demanded, “Had you kissed anyone before? Before me?”

He glared daggers, piercing my skin with his hatred. “What does it matter? Have you ever been so badly abused every bone was broken in your body? Have you ever gone days without food or had so much blood on your hands you wanted to kill yourself?” His chest heaved under his sweater.

We froze.

His nostrils flared. He didn’t mean to slip—he’d said something fundamental—a huge insight into his past. I wouldn’t let him retreat now. Taking a step forward, I pushed him, kept prodding, as if he were a cornered animal.

“No, but you have.” I couldn’t handle this. It hurt to think about Fox’s past—what he kept hidden. He’d almost killed me. He’d taken me against my will. I owed him my hatred, not my pity.

But how could I fear someone in such emotional pain?

The scar on his cheek glowed bright red, looking as if it wept with fresh blood. Colour flushed his neck line, highlighting faded scars I hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to throb before my eyes—changing from a zombie, a lifeless creature still going through the motions of life, to a man craving freedom.

“I know you’re not Australian, and I know your scar was a punishment. Tell me.”

He shook his head, damp hair flying. He bared his teeth. “Let me figure this out. You think you know me? You think you can read me and figure out what shit lives inside my head? You think you have superpowers?” He threw his arms up. “What other things do you think I happen to be, dobycha? A cutthroat murderer? A drug dealer? How about a rapist?” Running a harsh fingertip down the redness of his scar, he laughed. “Hang on, I guess I am a rapist after last night. Everything you think you know about me is tainted because of this. This scar—it makes you pity me and fear me.”

His shoulders bunched as he took a step forward. “You think you can guess how I got this? What I’ve done? Stop spinning your lies and fabricating stories. You’re so far off you’re in the realm of fantasy you’re embarrassing yourself. Do us both a favour and fuck off.”

His lips snapped shut. A metre separated us, keeping me safe from his seething rage.

Not once had he moved to grab or hurt me. Not once had he dropped his guard. All the while hating me for making him face the truth, he protected me by staying away.

Fatigue hit me and I sighed heavily. “You don’t trust yourself at all do you?”

He blinked at my whisper, so quiet after yelling.

My eyes met his, and I gave him a tiny smile. “Any normal person would touch and squeeze and manhandle each other in an intense argument, but you—you keep your distance. It’s not me you don’t trust—it’s yourself.”

He didn’t say a word, trembling in the wake of his terrible anger. Despite the colour flushing his neck and rage glowing in his eyes, he withheld his strict self-control. What would happen if I touched him? What would he do if I opened my arms and hugged him?

You’d die.

I knew it. As sure as the sun would set and rise again.

Silence fell between us, and my eyes dropped to his forearms. The jumper he wore had been pushed up, revealing corded muscle and scars.

Scars. Scars. Scars.

More than I could count. Some faded and silver, others red and healing. But it was the four straight and perfect lines seeping with bright red crimson that caught my attention.

I’d seen marks like that before. On another. I’d witnessed first-hand the fractured mind of an individual who sought pain to help remove the build-up of agony inside.

Clue was a self-harmer.

Over time, I’d helped her stop, but I would never forget walking into the kitchen one night and watching her drag a sharp blade over her skin. I’d shuddered in horror, but she’d breathed heavily in relief.

I hadn’t judged. I hadn’t said a word, but through friendship and support I helped her channel her pain into exercise and less destructive methods.

“You self-harm because you can’t deal with whatever lives inside you,” I murmured.

He choked on a swallow. Tense seconds ticked past before he took a small step toward me. His joints clicked from abuse past and new. Standing to his full height, he hissed, “Leave now before I do something I’ll regret.” His eyes flashed as he took another step toward me.

I stepped away, keeping out of touching distance. My anger came back swift and hot. Waving at him, taking in his furiousness, I growled, “You think you can scare me? You’re wrong. I’ve dealt with worse than you. You’re kidding yourself with your dramatics.”

Fox exploded from tightly coiled weapon to shrapnel bomb. “Get the fuck out! Now!”

“No!”

“Leave!”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“There’s nothing to hear!” He gripped his head, tugging his hair. “Leave now. Leave! Fucking go!”

Every survival instinct in me wanted to obey, but I’d pushed him this far. “I understand you, more than you think.”

He laughed manically. “You? Miss perfect—the woman who has it all? Don’t make me prove how ridiculous you are. You’re a fucking chameleon with your lies and secrets.”

Cocking his head, he stared harder, going deeper inside me than anyone had before. I didn’t like how weak and insecure he made me. I didn’t like feeling that my house of lies would come tumbling down at any moment. I didn’t like being a specimen under scrutiny. “You think I don’t see you? You have a past, same as anyone—but it’s darker. You’ve done things others wouldn’t understand, but it doesn’t mean you know me. I don’t trust you, Hazel Hunter.” Moving forward, he pointed at the door behind me. “I won’t ask again. Final warning. Get the fuck out and leave me alone.”

I’d pushed hard, but I didn’t win. I’d done my best. Backing away, I narrowed my eyes. “You want me gone, fine. But you owe me. You owe me for whatever connection sprang between us last night. You felt it—same as me. You forced me to agree to your terms as you couldn’t ignore the call. What if that connection was the one thing that could help you? What if I’m the one person you’ve been searching for?”

I hadn’t meant to say that. It was presumptuous. It reeked of high-handed righteousness. I didn’t know if he felt the same draw. The same strange pull.

He reared back, knuckles going white from clenching his fists so hard. “Who the fuck are you to think you know me? You know nothing. Nothing! I don’t need your help. I don’t need your cure!” His voice changed from unrepentant anger to a slight thread of confusion. He stressed the word ‘cure’, slipping from Australian accent to something guttural, foreign, something that suited him far more than the falseness of his Australian twang.

I saw the truth. Clear as day. Everything I’d said had been real. Everything he tried to keep hidden came to light. “I’m not the only one lying. You are.” I tilted my head, eyeing him closely. It was as if answers came to me from nowhere. Seeing through his shadows and secrets, latching onto small snippets of truth. “I think you’re hiding from something and live in fear every day.”

Fox bristled and seethed and stewed.

All the caring, stupid instincts swelled, hoping he’d crack, wishing he’d let his walls down. This man didn’t need a woman to warm his bed. He needed a psychiatrist. I didn’t want to be near someone so toxic, but I couldn’t walk away either. “You owe me to let me help you.”

Fear suffocated my throat as he seemed to grow larger, adopting an icy exterior that gave no hint of remorse or humanity.

I froze, locked in his ferocious stare. Trouble was I couldn’t read him in that moment. He’d shut down, so all I saw was a cold man with a vicious streak amplified by the wicked scar.

He shuddered as his entire body went into lockdown. Muscles bunched beneath his clothing, his aura trembled with aggression and rebellion. “I owe you nothing,” he spit.

My heart raced. Truth screamed loud and clear. Somehow he earned the facial scar thanks to a debt gone wrong. He wasn’t a free man. He was owned by someone who either kept him on a tight leash, or abused him so much it wouldn’t take much more for him to snap.

Hardly breathing, I dropped my eyes to his trembling body. I wanted to figure out the dark damage lurking in his eyes.

My God. What happened to him?

My gaze zeroed in on his as if I was a compass needle and he was my north. I’d never suffered a phenomenon such as this. Never been so tuned to another. Perhaps we were kindred souls—linked by something past the realm of understanding. Kismet.

It’s too much. Too intense. Too dangerous.

I had Clara to protect and save—I had no reserves left for someone so deeply broken. It was time to cut him loose and forget—not just for my sanity, but my future as well. I hated that for the first time in forever, I felt weak. Weak because no matter how much I wanted to help him, I wouldn’t be able to. He was unsaveable.

Exhaling heavily, I let it out—forcing all my questions and curiosity out of my mind. My life was already complicated enough. I didn’t need to think about adopting a lost stray with a bite that would undoubtedly leave me in pieces.

“Forget it.” Dropping my voice to a whisper, I said, “I’ll go. But you should know I came back to give you a piece of my mind, but also to continue our agreement. I refuse to stay here for a month, but I was willing to spend my days with you. To give you what you wanted. Despite what I said—I did want you. I felt the same pull.”

His back rippled with tension. The air seemed to crackle and weep around him with a mixture of regret and self-loathing. For a moment, I thought he would throttle me. Reach out and grab my throat in his large hands and wring the air from my body. But then his anger diminished, flickering out to be replaced with utter coldness. “I don’t care. I never wish to see you again.”

Fuck him. I was done.

Whirling around, I stalked to the door. My anger crashed over me in a wave. I gave him my passion and offered a lifeline, and he threw it in my face.

The moment I walked out the door I never wanted to see him again. I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I needed to make sure the goodbye was final.

“Don’t ever come near me again, Fox. If I see, or hear, or find out you’ve come near, I won’t just hurt you.

“I’ll kill you.”