by Kent, Rina
“Stop it.” I remove my hand from his trousers with heated cheeks. It’s a jab at me because last week after practice, I snuck with him to a dark corner near the locker rooms. At that time, I only meant to kiss him. That kiss ended up with me against the wall and him pounding inside me and muffling my screams with a hand to my mouth.
My body tingles in remembrance. There’s something about having sex with him. It’s never enough.
His lips quirk in that infuriating smile. “What? You’re thinking about it.”
I shake my head and my eyes fall on the screen of his phone. What the…?
It’s locked but since it’s a text, I’m able to see it.
Jaxon: Thanks for the tickets, son. Go, Gunners.
It can be a different Jaxon who also loves Arsenal and is thanking Aiden for the tickets.
But it’s very unlikely.
I stop at the corner of the hallway and thrust the phone in Aiden’s face. “Since when are you communicating with Uncle behind my back?”
“You make it sound like some sort of a conspiracy.”
“Are you telling me it isn’t?”
“It isn’t. He loves Arsenal, and I have backstage tickets.”
I narrow my eyes. “Stop trying to take my family away.”
“I’m only being a good sport so he’d approve of me.”
Uncle approves of him all right. While Aunt is still sceptical and continues reminding me that my studies come first, Uncle is all over Aiden whenever he drives me home. He even invites him for dinners and breakfasts with us.
And since Aiden is opportunistic, he jumps all over any invitation he gets. If I’m not lying to myself, I’d admit that having him in my space is fun.
Kim says he’s making an effort for me, and maybe she’s right.
I’m just scared that if I let go completely, he’ll swallow me whole.
That’s why I haven’t attempted to make what we have official.
We’re exclusive, but we’re not really dating in the conventional term.
“You’re incurable,” I huff.
Still holding the books, Aiden backs me up so my shoulder blades hit the wall. He lowers his head until his warm breath draws shivers on my skin. His voice is low and raspy when he says, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to have you, sweetheart.”
“Nothing?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
The thought should be scary, but I’m feeling anything but scared right now. I tiptoe and plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. Before he can deepen it, I duck and escape.
There’s no way I’d let him kiss me in the school’s hallways.
I’m giggling as I run down the hall. My head collides against a torso. I fall on my arse and pain explodes in my hipbone.
Ow.
Adam looks down at me with a glare. “Watch where you’re going.”
He throws one last malicious stare before he stalks off.
I stand up and dust off my skirt just in time for Aiden to catch up with me.
One look at me and his playful expression disappears. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” If Aiden knows, he’ll do something unpredictable and I really don’t want any trouble now.
Not when both of us need a clean record to get into Cambridge and Oxford.
“By the way,” he says. “You still haven’t come to one of my games.”
He keeps reminding me of that fact. It’s silly, really, but I want to keep some things from him. Like not going to his games. Not following him back on Instagram — although I stalk it all the time.
I feel like those little things will keep me dependant.
I check my watch. “I have an appointment with my doctor.”
He narrows his eyes. “I’ll pick you up after practice.”
I suppress a nervous smile and nod. Today, we’re watching the Champions League game in his house with the guys.
Kim agreed to join us, and I hugged her until she called me a creep.
It’s the first time I’m going to Aiden’s house.
He’s always eating at my house, sneaking into my room, and spending nights in my bed when Aunt and Uncle are caught up in work.
What’s so hard about going to his palace-like house and meeting his father, the mighty Jonathan King?
Nothing… right?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Being back in Dr Khan’s office after more than a year of interrupting my therapy is weird, to say the least.
The office is white without anything distinctive other than the wall-length library opposite us. The lack of paintings or objects is on purpose to not distract patients and to keep their minds as open as the white walls. Or at least that’s what Dr Khan told me when I asked him a while back.
He’s sitting on the brown, leather chair with a notepad in hand while I lie down on the recliner chair.
Dr Imran Khan — who I learnt is the same name of a Bollywood actor — is a small-built man in his mid-fifties. His salt-and-pepper hair is more salt than pepper now compared to when I first met him ten years ago.
His skin is tanned but is considered light compared to others with Pakistani heritage.
“I’m happy you decided to return, Elsa.” His tone is welcoming and he looks genuinely happy to have me back on his recliner chair.
“Mr Quinn mentioned trouble with stress for exams.” His kind but piercing brown eyes focus on me. “What do you think is the cause of that stress?”
“It’s senior year and the pressure is real.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the reason I’m here either.
Dr Khan bites it. His eyes fill with what I call detached care. I think that’s what makes him perfect at his job. He has the ability to empathise but not let his patients’ feelings rub off on him.
He jots down a note. Another thing about Dr Khan is his traditional methods. He doesn’t use recordings much.
“Has there been anything triggering lately?” he asks.
“Yes.” I shift against the leather and it squeaks in the deafening silence of the room. “I’ve been having nightmares about you hypnotising me, Dr Khan.”
His pen pauses on the notepad and his shoulders tense. That’s all the answer I need. It hasn’t been a play of my imagination.
Dr Khan recovers fast. “Why do you think you had such a nightmare, Elsa?”
I sit up, the leather squeaking, and face him. “It’s not a nightmare. It’s the truth.”
He opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up a hand.
“I’m not blaming you, Dr Khan. I know you have two thesis, one in psychotherapy and the other in hypnotherapy so it’s not like you’re doing anything illegal. I also know that Aunt and Uncle probably made you do it, but I need to know why.”
He shuffles his notebook as if he’s about to stand up. “Perhaps we should call your guardian and —”
“Soho Miller,” I cut him off. “He’s the reason why you don’t practice hypnotherapy anymore. After you helped him restore his memories, he committed suicide.”
Dr Khan’s eyes fill with what resembles sadness, and I know I struck a chord. I did my research before coming here.
“I’m not Soho,” I puff my chest. “I’m not suicidal either. I promise to stay alive if you promise to not have Aunt and Uncle involved in this. They’re hiding something from me and I need to know why.”
“Soho also said something similar,” He sighs and the wrinkles around his eyes ease. “He begged me to know who he was before losing his memories. When he remembered he was behind the accident that killed his wife and children, he couldn’t handle the truth and took his life.”
“I’m not him. I can handle the truth.” My tone turns pleading. “I just want to know what Aunt and Uncle called you for.”
He slouches in his chair but keeps his posture uptight. “When your guardians first contacted me, you had violent episodes of screaming and falling in and out of consciousness.”
I straighten, my hands turn clammy in my lap. “
Like my nightmares?”
“Your nightmares are a manifestation of your subconscious. When you were a child, your consciousness was filled with nightmares. You were traumatised and in severe shock due to the fire.”
“And?”
“And I used regression, a hypnosis method, to help resolve past traumas.”
“Are you saying that Aunt and Uncle asked you to erase all my memories up to the fire?”
A sense of betrayal fills my chest at the thought of them doing something like that behind my back. They violated my mind. So what if they’re my guardians? That doesn’t give them the right to erase my past.
“Your aunt and uncle only called me to reduce the anxiety because they heard hypnosis helps.” He appears nostalgic. “They were desperate, especially your aunt. She looked ready to do anything to chase away your pain.”
“So what? Did you erase everything behind their backs?”
“No, Elsa.” Dr Khan gives me a quizzical stare. “I didn’t erase your memories. You did.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
My head won’t stop spinning after I exit Dr Khan’s office.
I still can’t wrap my mind around the last thing he said.
I only put you in a stance to resolve your traumatic experience, but when you woke up, your memories were gone.
My child version’s solution was to erase everything. Dr Khan said that sometimes when things are too much, the brain can resort to skipping over the traumatic parts. Suppressing memories becomes a vital need, not an option.
I was mentally and physically all over the place after the fire.
I entwine my fingers together as I walk down the hallway. Did I do the right thing?
How about Aunt and Uncle, then? They hid this truth from me for ten years. I doubt they would’ve told me anything if I didn’t put two and two together.
I can’t say I blame them, though. Since they swept me off from Birmingham, Aunt and Uncle did everything to protect me — to the point of overkill, sometimes.
Dr Khan said I needed to think carefully about restoring my memories. It’s a one-way road. He didn’t guarantee anything, but he can get me into a regression mode and help me access places in my subconscious that my consciousness isn’t even aware of.
When I came here, I was so sure that I wanted my memories back. However, after the story about Dr Khan’s other patient, Soho Miller, I’m not sure anymore. What if, like him, I open Pandora’s Box and discover things I’m not supposed to?
Besides, do I really want to relive my parents’ death? I shudder at the thought.
My hands itch, and the urge to wash them swipes over me. With jerky fingers, I open the small pocket in my backpack and retrieve my hand sanitiser. I pour half the bottle in my palm and scrub all over until it’s dried.
I release a breath when the itch slowly withers away.
Pocketing the hand sanitiser, I exit the building. I stumble to a halt on the pavement. Aiden’s car is parked across the street and he’s standing by the driver door talking to a familiar blonde-haired barbie doll.
Silver.
My nostrils flare and a violent rush shoots through my veins.
I stride across the street, trying not to break into a run.
Silver isn’t known to lose her cool. She’s pretty much the female version of Aiden. But right now, her hands fly all around her.
Aiden, on the other hand, appears bored. That should water down the fury bubbling through me, but it doesn’t. The fact that he’s even talking to her when he was supposed to pick me up sullies my mood. Did she come with him or something?
Facing Silver is really not what I want to do after the life changing talk I just had with Dr Khan, but if that’s what she wants, that’s what she’ll get.
“You promised, King.” She hisses.
“I said I’ll think about it,” he says.
“You don’t get to escape this,” she grinds her teeth.
“Escape what?” I stand right at her back.
She jumps up and Aiden whips his head towards me. It’s like I’ve caught them off guard.
A frown etches between his eyebrows, but there’s no trace of guilt.
But then again, Aiden doesn’t do guilt.
“Make a noise, would you?” Silver cuts me a glare over her shoulder. “Creep.”
What is she talking about? I’m pretty sure I made a sound when I approached them.
Right?
“What are you doing here?” I meet her haughty gaze with one of my own.
“I don’t answer to you, bitch.”
“Watch it, Queens,” Aiden warns.
“Oh, so now that you’re dipping your dick in her, I should watch it? Is that it?” She places a hand on her hip as she faces me. “How does it feel to have leftovers, Frozen?”
I’ve had enough of Silver and her bitchiness. I’ve had enough of everyone controlling my life or humiliating me while I choose to be the better person.
I. Have. Had. Enough.
Aiden steps forward, but I act first.
My hand shoots up and I grab a handful of Silver’s hair. She shrieks as I tug her head back so I’m staring down at her.
The expression on my face must be scarier than the tug because Silver’s lips clamp shut and her face contorts.
“If you throw one more snide remark my way, I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll cut you from limb to limb and bury you in the back garden.” I smile. “And stay away from Aiden.”
There’s a need to hurt her. To stab her. To see her bleed —
Steel blood runs through your veins, Princess.
You’re my masterpiece.
My legacy.
As if the words burn, I let Silver go with a shove.
She stumbles forward, massaging her scalp. “Crazy bitch.”
“Leave, Queens.” Aiden’s voice is tight, but I’m not hearing him properly. Those haunting words keep playing at the back of my head.
Steel blood. Princess. Masterpiece. Legacy.
I’m too caught up in my own thoughts that I don’t notice Silver charging at me.
Aiden steps between us, facing her. “Leave.”
“This isn’t over.” She wiggles a finger my way then turns to Aiden. “You, too, King. It’s far from over.”
Silver disappears around the corner or down the street, I’m not paying her attention.
“What happened just now?” Aiden stands in front of me and lifts my chin with his thumb and forefinger so I’m staring at his hooded grey eyes.
I’m scared he’ll see the disorientation or whatever demon took over my body earlier. I legit wanted to hurt someone, and if I didn’t have that flashback, I might have bashed Silver’s head against the pavement.
That’s scary.
I’m not like that.
Instead of thinking about my decimation, I direct my anger at Aiden. “What was she doing here? You’re picking me up with your ex by your side?”
“I didn’t come with her and she’s not my ex.”
“Yeah, right. Could’ve fooled me.”
“I never dated Silver.”
“So you just fucked her?”
He grits his teeth but doesn’t say anything.
“Oh my God, you did.” I think I’m going to throw up.
“It’s complicated.”
“There’s nothing complicated about a dick in a vagina, Aiden. Either you stick it in there or you don’t.”
An old lady passing by gives me a look of dismay. Under different circumstances, I would’ve been embarrassed but right now, I’m too livid to care that I’m causing a scene.
Aiden backs me into his car and shoves me into the passenger seat before he takes the driver’s seat.
The door slams behind him so hard, I would’ve winced if it weren’t for the pent up, energy swirling around my head.
“I told you that if you have anything with Silver, we’re done.” I fight off the angry tears trying to push through.
“Even if we had any
thing, it was in the past.”
Aiden’s devil peeks his head through his metallic eyes. The fact that he’s talking calmly makes me want to smash his head in.
“So you did have something.”
“Yes, we did. I fucked her and I loved it so much that I dumped her.” He rolls his eyes. “What’s wrong with you today?”
“Why was she talking to you? What did she want?”
“Piss me off. And by your attitude, she succeeded.”
I inhale a sharp breath. Maybe I’m being over the top. Damn it. Now that the haze is slowly dissipating, everything seems absurd. Aside from the fact that I loathe Silver. If I see her claws near Aiden again, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Looks like he’s not the only caveman around.
Aiden’s face is closed off and his left eye twitches. I open my mouth to say something but come out with nothing and close it again.
He doesn’t spare me a glance as he starts the engine and weaves down the streets. This time, the vibrations don’t give me the usual thrill. I hug the backpack to my chest as I stare at Aiden’s solemn features.
The entire ride is spent in tomb silence. He doesn’t hold my hand and place it on his thigh as he usually does and he doesn’t glance at me.
He must be truly pissed off.
I spend all the way, trying to find the right words to say. I can’t actually apologise since I didn’t do anything wrong. But one thing for certain, I hate the tension between us. It reminds me of those awful days when we were on an invisible battlefield.
The Ferrari rolls in front of a mansion — no, a palace.
I forgot that we’re watching the game at his house.
I reach a tentative hand to his that’s still gripped around the steering wheel. “Aiden, I —”
A loud bang hits the roof of the car and Ronan sticks his head inside from Aiden’s open windows. “Come on, bitches, the game starts soon.”
He continues hitting the roof of the car with a ball. He really has the worst timing.
Aiden flings the door open and exits without a glance.
Chapter Forty
The King’s mansion falls on a large piece of land, it’s impossible to see the end of it.
