by Selina Marie
One thing I am pretty sure of though, is that there is something seriously wrong with me.
Snapping out of my temporary insanity, I move to the door, having to step around his tall, dominating form, and I swear I can feel electricity sparking between our bodies when they almost touch, as I move around him.
I might have said thank you, and I genuinely am more grateful than he will ever know for what he did for me. I would make polite conversation and ask if there’s anything I can do for him in return, not that anything I could do would measure up, but I would try, if I didn’t feel like he wanted my body to incinerate before his eyes. Seriously, if looks could kill. It doesn’t make any sense to me, and I feel like Bella from Twilight, after Edward saves her but seems to despise her—like, why bother?
He can’t stand the sight of me, that much is obvious, and even though there is desire in his gaze as he takes in my body, I can see the disdain. He is still a perfect stranger and I’m sure I’ll never see him again.
What a shame… my internal thoughts pipe up, and maybe it is. But no matter how hot and heroic a guy might be, I can’t afford to be even a fraction interested in anyone. So it’s a good thing I’m not interested in him—the strong, silent arrogant man at my back, as I walk outside the bedroom door completely unaware of where I’m going.
I glance back over my shoulder before I round the corner; his body is now facing mine, the fabric of his jeans is stretched tightly across him, as if his hands are clenched in fists inside of his pockets. My eyes shift slowly up his body, taking him in, because this is probably the last time I will be in the presence of such ostentatious beauty, as arrogant as he may be.
The cords in his arms are visible and pulled tight, flexing under his skin and he’s pale but it isn’t off putting or sickly in any way. It’s haunting in the most beautiful sense. As my eyes travel up his body, the black t-shirt is pulled taut across his chest, and I can already see how ripped he is. His neck makes me hungry just looking at it. I want to bury my lips into the crook of it and taste the skin there; he’s edible.
My hormones are doing fucked up things to my body, and I feel heat swirling low in my belly. When my eyes reach his, his brows are pulled inwards in a frown deep enough that they almost touch in the middle.
The icy blue in his irises is prominent, dark lashes framing the blue. They’re strained though, and when he takes a step forward, looking like he’s fighting an internal battle in his head, I think he is going to say something to me. I can’t anticipate what is troubling him in his mind, but it almost looks as if he might not want me to go.
A flicker of concern darts across his face, and maybe underneath his bravado, he might be afraid for me… he should be.
Hell, I should be. It’s hard to explain though, it’s as if every time I walk through the splintered wooden door to my own personal hell, I leave my body, and I’m only an entity watching what happens, my mind and body numb to each one of the blows it takes.
My life resembles a nightmare, but it's all I know, and I have to live it for her—the girl inside of me is screaming for me to stay alive and keep going, because there is so much more meant for me, but also for the girl who was taken from me.
I wait a moment longer, and when I realize the silence will only continue, I turn and attempt to make my way out of here.
After navigating my way down a long hallway, I round the corner and discover the most beautiful staircase. It’s only one staircase but it’s grand and classic, made of marble and splits off at the top, to the left and right. I’m on the right side looking down to the entryway. I grip the banister as I step quickly, reaching the bottom and the most monumental solid oak door. My eyes glance around the place, taken back by the pure opulence and wealth I’m suffocating in. Who is this guy?
He has to have a serious amount of money, and as my eyes shift around the walls, an oil painting catches my eye, the colours rich and captivating. It’s tasteful and definitely an original, you can tell by the fine pattern of cracks in the paint.
The marble floors and glass chandeliers boast wealth and luxury, and I’m positive the chandelier alone is worth the cost of my house.
My feet slap against the marble as I swiftly move closer to the enormous door that I hope is my exit, and it is.
I'm immediately hit with sea breeze and the smell of the ocean. Turning my head to the right I can hear the waves before I see them, and the further I move away from the door and curve slightly around to the right of the house, I see it.
The ocean is literally right in front of me, and I feel the tiniest sense of vertigo when I realize I’m standing on a cliff top. I’m not worried about falling, because I’m not close to the edge, but I am so high up it makes my head giddy.
The waves batter the shore, showing no mercy, crashing powerfully against the cliff’s edge, I would guess no less than six-hundred and fifty feet below the land that I am standing on.
I don’t know why I stay standing here watching Mother Nature at its rawest, exhibiting her pure power, but I do.
I take a deep breath feeling the sea spray splash over me slightly whilst the wind whips my damp hair around my face, stinging a little. I welcome the sting, keeping my soles planted to the gravel beneath my bare feet.
The rugged points and edges of the little pebbles dig into my skin, daring the layers to split.
I feel calm, mesmerized by the gray, stormy sea, recklessly causing havoc, and I don’t want to move.
I want to be swept away, to be a part of the ocean; I want to be powerful, dangerous, boundless and free.
I stay rooted to the ground; my bare feet welcoming the sharp, uneven rocks digging into my skin. That's when I realize, I know this place. I used to come here all the time, with my sister.
CHAPTER TWO
Lukas
I washed the blood from my hands as she slept and threw on a clean T-shirt after giving her mine.
I almost had to laugh, as I had lost track of the number of times I watched the water tinge with pinks and reds as I cleaned the blood of other bodies off of mine, watching it all drain away until the water runs clear.
I’m not a good man, not at all. I am many things and good is most definitely not one of them.
I weighed my options as the girl slept and I honestly didn’t know which way to play it with her. I just stayed silent. How it had pissed her off amused me.
Maybe I shouldn't have been such a dick considering the circumstances but then again, that's just who I am and I'm not about to change for anyone. Definitely not her.
The moment her eyes opened, those turquoise depths filled with chaos, panic, and definitely a little bit of lust, hit mine. She’s feisty too, which made my dick twitch when she demanded I answer her questions. I don’t answer to anyone.
I didn’t miss the way she slowly took my body in and it’s no mystery that she obviously liked what she saw. I doubt she noticed but I caught the slight brushing together of her thighs giving away that she wanted me.
Not surprising really, I look good, and I am not in the slightest too humble to admit it.
I'm not the complete twat I know I come across as—actually, I absolutely am. I’m a product of the man who raised me, unfortunately for the rest of humanity.
Yeah, I saved her life and brought her back to my home because it seems even the demons inside me can’t resist the need to save a damsel in distress.
Although I wouldn’t go as far as calling her a damsel. I despise everything about that girl and her sister, they’re poison.
She doesn't know me, but I know her. I won’t tell her that though. As for her questions, I don't like answering them—or to anyone, and she got her first taste of that tonight.
I am privy to a lot of secrets and information that, under no circumstance will reach the ears of those it isn’t meant for.
My life has always been full of darkness and deceit, it’s all I know, and if there's anyone out there who wants to unlock the mysteries and riddles hidden i
n my mind? Too fucking bad.
When I watched her walk away from me, the animal inside wanted to grab her and lock her up with me. I tried to argue with myself that at least she would be away from that infested hellhole she lives in with that vile fucking excuse for a man.
I can't though, because I have more important rules I have to play by, which is proving difficult because all I want to do is take her—again.
I see this shit all the time; fuck, I cause a lot of physical damage on too many bodies to count.
Maybe it’s because she is a woman, and all the shit my mom went through made it a trigger for me. But after seeing her body—covered with scars, old and new, scrapes, cuts, and bruises on her beautiful, creamy marred skin, I want to bury that fucker deep underground and lock her away like the princess she is.
Despite my body and my dick telling me to grab her and put my mouth on hers, I don’t, because while my body wants her, I know the truth. Emilia Blake might be a cock tease just like her sister, but she will regret every moment she has had with an Elin man, they both will—I’ll make sure of it.
A possessive fire burns deep down in my stomach and I know there’s no way I’ll leave her alone for long, not with him. I might have rules to play, by but I won’t see a woman, not even Emilia Blake go back to that scumbag Cretan’s piece of shit house.
I’ll be back to collect what’s mine, but for now, I let her go.
CHAPTER THREE
Emilia
I'm at Penderal Bay, a small town that neighbors my own, but the difference between Penderal Bay and Grotleyton is just like the symbolism described in Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and the houses they inhabit.
Penderal Bay is clean, kept, and full of the elite. Grotleyton is the dishevelled, dirty, and destitute place I call home.
I internally call it grottyton because that is the perfect description for it, it’s poverty, grotty, dirty and inhabited by drug dealers, too many crack dens to count, and one of the most popular hot spots for the crackheads?—My house.
Looking down, I recognize the curved shaped of the bay, I know exactly where I am, this is the beach, our beach.
Nostalgia hits like a ton of bricks at one of the few good memories I have of her, before everything turned to shit.
Three years ago
We’re laughing, running across the sand together, our toes coasting on the edge of the water as we run, her bright blonde hair whipping around her face in the wind.
The sound of her laugh is something that could be irritating to some, its high pitched and some may say it’s sickly sweet, but not me. I wish I could bottle it up and listen to it whenever Lexi gives me shit and lays into me, so I can remember the good in her.
She’s chasing me, trying to catch up with me after I stole her phone, which she eventually does. I’m younger, and apparently the slower sister.
When she grabs me, she shoves me a little too hard, but it’s still playful. The speed she runs into me throws us both to the sand in a tumble of her tanned limbs and laughter, and she snatches her phone out of my hand.
We have a complicated relationship at times, but I guess that’s similar of most teenage sisters, and although we don’t always see eye to eye, I still think of her as my best friend, my idol, my everything.
We both turn to look toward each other, still laying on the beach, the sand beneath our backs. Her long blonde hair mixing with my dark brown, almost ebony hair, we are two opposites in so many ways.
Only two years older than me, we have that connection that most sisters so close in age have—on the good days that is, and when she’s around. But I’ve always felt she was more… more adventurous, more beautiful, more fun… Just more than me.
She turns her face towards mine, smirking a suggestive smile and I know where this talk is going… boys, as always.
“So... I guess this is the part where you say I told you so…” she glances towards me still with her smile etched into her face. I frown, a little confused about what she means.
“You may have to be a little more specific, Lex, there have been too many times I’ve said ‘I told you so’,” I joke.
“So funny, Emilia, I’m talking about that guy I’m friends with… well I think I might like him… and I’m pretty sure he likes me. I mean I know most guys like me, but he’s the one I want.” Lexi smirks and covers her face with her hands, still turning her head towards me, her lips in a pout, her hands then tucking under her head.
“Well fucking finally! I’ve been calling this for the past two months, seriously, Lex! So, have you told him you like him because it’s obvious he likes you a lot more than friends,” I tell her with a smile on my face. I like seeing her happy and I’ve seen her so happy and alive whenever she has been with this friend of hers. She won’t tell me who he is though. I think she’s scared I’ll stalk him online and send some outrageous message declaring her love for him… and she’s not wrong, I would totally do that. There is a part of me that thinks it could be something else too.
The issue is, to be honest, I know she likes him, but she changes her mind like the tide, and I do secretly worry that she will break this guy’s heart, whoever he is.
Not intentionally, but it’s not the first time my sister has ‘accidentally’ led a guy friend on and ended up breaking his heart because… well I mean, she’s gorgeous, she’s fun, she’s smart, and she’s witty. How could they not fall for her?
She has this magnetism about her; she is enticing and that’s what gets them, I guess.
I would never tell her to her face, but I also think that she likes the attention too.
“So, are you ever going to give me the details—what’s his name, social security number and his address just so I can see what’s the appeal and who’s got my big sister all loopy?” I lean on my elbow turning my body towards her, waiting for her to tell me.
“Hell no… not happening. I know you, and I know you will turn into a creepy stalker and have his ‘details’ in a millisecond if I even say the first syllable of his name,” she says, shaking her head at me. Her eyes dart behind me looking up on the cliff’s edge. She quickly flicks her eyes back to me, changing the subject.
“Anyway, Emilia, what about you, huh? Any lucky guys worth your time?” she asks as she looks down at her phone, something catching her attention making her snigger.
The question throws me off because we don’t ever talk about me, it’s always about what’s going on with her, but I don’t mind.
Surely, she knows the answer to that question though, me and guys? Yeah, no. Not happening. Firstly, because I’ve seen the way they are around Lexi and I honestly think if one of those sleazeballs approached me, hanging off my body like some horny limpet, as she lets them hang off of hers, I would legitimately punch them in the throat.
I have no time for that kind of shit. I do not want the attention, and even if I did it would not be from any of the guys I go to school with. They are just a bunch of sexually aroused, egotistical boys that do not whet my appetite, let alone my pussy.
“I think we both know the answer to that question, dear sister, and it is a big, fat hell no.” I grimace as I answer her thinking about the "prospects" at my school.
Lexi drops the subject, already lost in her phone and not paying attention to me anymore. I accept that I’m probably going to be a crazy cat lady for life and die an old, virginal maid, and I am very much okay with that.
I look out to the horizon watching as the gradients of the ocean merge into one, the blues and the greens so distinct and captivating. I love watching the ocean. The way that the waves move, ebbing and flowing. The ocean can express its emotions and change instantly.
Today it’s calm, the cool breeze and warm sunshine having lured many locals and visitors down to Penderal Bay. Lexi and I have been coming here for years since we were little. One of our mother’s old boyfriends would bring us here… before he decided that our mother and us weren’t good enough for him, and he left us—w
hich sucked because he was actually one of the more decent guys our mom dated.
Lexi snaps her fingers in front of my eyes gaining my attention, rapidly taking me out of my daydream and watching the waves. “Okay, Virgin Mary, let’s go home, I’m hungry and I have a boy to charm.” She winks playfully in my direction and smirks as I glare at her after catching her not so subtle gibe at my virgin status.
Lexi gets up rubbing the sand from her clothes, walking ahead of me, and I swear I notice her gaze shift toward the cliffs again and snap back when she sees me watching her.
We walk back to the car and get in as she turns the ignition cranking up the music, blaringly loud. That gains us a few snooty stares from a couple walking past us. And we’re gone.
That was a good day.
The sound of a rock splintering against the bottom of the cliff startles me and snaps my attention back to reality and out of my memories.
My feet are still planted to the ground as the ferocious waves batter the cliff below. Now I remember exactly where I am, staring down at the strip of sand where my memory took place.
Lexi has been missing for two years, and the memory that seized my mind a moment ago was one of the last memories I had with her.
My sister went missing when she was twenty years old, which means she is twenty-two now—if she’s still alive. I am the age she was when she disappeared, and the pain gets worse every minute that passes, like a knife slowly twisted into my chest, causing unbearable suffering, but I’m still here.
Still here—as in at this guy’s house, standing in his courtyard. I turn my body and make my way up the path leading towards the huge iron gates which suddenly open as I approach them. I turn my head tilting it upwards to take a mental photograph of the place I was brought to after this man kidnapped me and… saved me. Only then, when I’m gazing across the building entirely made of glass, my eyes fall on ocean blue orbs, as stormy as the waves. He’s watching me and doesn’t break eye contact or move from the window, even though he has been blatantly caught. I won’t lie, it’s starting to creep me out a little, and even though the whole situation here is fucked up, the intensity he radiates is somewhat enticing.
