Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Right now? No, I don’t think she knows,” he admits. His hands flex—a sort of desperate gesture. “Because something happened in there that I don’t know what to think about.”
When he keeps me waiting, I have to ask, “Are you going to tell me what it was, or do I have to guess? There’s still another five minutes on the food, so I guess we have time.”
“You think this is a joke? Do you really?” I can’t remember the last time he looked at me with so much disgust. Maybe he never has before—not even after he watched me kill two people in that warehouse. “I’m trying to tell you something I don’t know how to say, and all you can do is bust my balls?”
“Okay.” Folding my hands, I nod. “What is it? What do you want to say?”
“I liked it.” With his head hung and his eyes on the floor, he mutters, “I liked watching you hit her the way you did. When everything changed, you know? I liked it too much.”
“I hear you. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t have done it.”
“And you don’t think that’s wrong?” When he lifts his gaze, the agony in his eyes knocks the breath out of my lungs. He really means it, and now I’m wondering if I should feel the way he does. Is there something wrong with me that I don’t?
But it’s not like I ever have. I can’t pretend. “Do you want to know why I stayed away as long as I did? That’s one of the reasons, and I’m not just saying it now to defend myself. I like it too much when I’m using her. When I’m hurting her. That’s why I came here and tied her up that night—I waited for days to get the chance to be alone up here with her. Because more than anything, I craved the feeling I used to get when we were using her and dominating her.”
Now I can’t look at him. Instead, I stare down at my folded hands, clenched on the countertop. “It’s like being an addict. It’s always there, no matter what I’m doing, no matter what’s happening around me. I want to have her under my control again. I never feel as alive as I do when she’s at my mercy. I don’t know if it’s something I was born with or something I was taught, but I can’t get it out of my head.”
Glancing up at him, I add, “Which is a big reason why I stayed away all this time. Believe me, don’t believe me, it doesn’t matter. It’s the truth. Staying away from her was the only way I could think to protect her from me. Because look what happens when I’m with her.”
I point down the hall, grinding my teeth when I remember the way she shrieked and sobbed. “That’s all I can give her. And you want me to stay? Really, think about it. You love her? Then you should keep me away from her.”
I’m almost surprised when he goes quiet, like he’s thinking about it. I would expect him to talk over me, to tell me how I’m feeling instead of listening and trying to understand. Being understanding isn’t exactly something either of us has a lot of practiced with.
“I feel that way too sometimes. I’ve told you that. In my emails?” Yes, he did, and I nod slowly. “I ask myself how I’m supposed to learn how to be good to her when our whole past was made up of how much we could hurt her. And I’ve doubted myself so many times, today included—maybe most of all,” he adds, frowning and clenching his fists again. For a second, I’m sure he’s going to hit something, but he swallows back the urge. “Because I love her. I should be trying to protect her from anything that would make her fall apart the way she did. But there I was, almost ready to blow my load when things got serious.”
Am I an asshole for feeling better about myself now that he said that? “What are you going to do about it? Do you think we could learn to be different?”
He doesn’t hesitate for a second. “Fuck, yeah, I do. I’m not some powerless loser, and neither are you. Unless that’s who you want to be.”
“You know I don’t.”
He squares his shoulders and tightens his jaw. I know that look. He’s making up his mind about something. “Okay. So what do you do? You take control of yourself. Both of us. That’s all we can do. It’ll be one day at a time, but we can both handle it, because otherwise, the only answer is leaving her, and I won’t do that. I’m not living without her.”
I know he means it, just like I know he’s right about taking control. I don’t know where to start. That’s the problem. One of many problems.