by Julia Wolf
“More than anything, I’m angry at myself. You have forced yourself into my life, and somewhere along the way, I convinced myself it was because you really liked me. I thought we might be starting a relationship, as stupid as that sounds.”
“It’s not stupid.”
“It is. I wanted to like you so what happened in the van could maybe make sense, but nothing will ever make that make sense.” Tears pricked at my eyes for the hundredth time today. “I let myself like you. Allowed myself to get close to you. But you never had any intention of letting me in, did you? You couldn’t even tell me what you were doing yesterday when you had to realize how that would make me feel.”
He swallowed hard, searching my face for answers he’d never find. I was shutting down, flipping switches as I went. This was too much on top of what was already too much.
I staggered away from the table, heading for my backpack. Sebastian caught me easily, wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling me back against him. He buried his face in my hair, and something like a sigh fell from his lips.
“I’m gonna take you home, Grace.”
Disappointed that was all he had to say, I sagged internally, but kept my spine of steel straight and proud. “Fine. I wasn’t looking forward to the two-mile walk anyway.”
“I’m taking you to my home. You want to see it, if it’s so important to you, then I want you to have that.”
I twisted my head as far as I could, but couldn’t get a read on him from my sideways view.
“Will you take me home if I want to leave?”
His forehead came down on the crown of my head. “I can’t make promises about letting you go, Grace. Ask me something easier.”
“Don’t do this because you want to get inside me.”
“I’m taking you to my house. If I just wanted inside you, I’d have you bent over that table.” His fingers splayed across my stomach. “Not that I don’t want to do that too.”
“That doesn’t offer me much comfort.”
He pressed his face beside mine. “I thought you wanted honesty. That’s what I’m giving you.”
I sighed, once again defeated. I did want honesty. Even if this was the very end of us, at least I’d walk away with answers. “Okay. Take me home.”
Sebastian drove in the opposite direction I expected him to. I clung to his middle as he passed my old neighborhood and veered into a gated community. The guard was still the same old man who had worked there when I lived in Savage River before. He waved Sebastian in with a smile and zero hesitation. The houses grew in size as he wove through the pristine streets of Savage Gates. When he parked in the driveway of one of the biggest houses—I knew for a fact the biggest house was next door—I yelped a laugh. This had to be a joke, right?
He climbed off the bike and held out his hand to me. “Come on.”
My feet took a few seconds to find purchase on this unexpected ground. “What is this?”
“My house. This is where I live, Grace.” He threaded his fingers with mine, leading me inside.
We entered through a side door into a kitchen that would have been considered spacious anywhere else, but here, it was probably cozy. I knew enough about this type of house to realize this was the butler’s kitchen. The secondary space was for personal chefs to prepare meals, while the primary kitchen was kept pristine for show.
“Did you know Elena Sanderson lives next door?” I’d spent half of my childhood there, right beside this house. And her place made this one look like a ramshackle house.
“Of course,” he said simply.
“Oh.” My eyes lifted to his. “Do you ever talk to her?”
He rubbed his mouth again. “I try not to.” He pulled me along with him.
Through the kitchen, we entered a mudroom, then a sprawling room decorated comfortably with plush leather couches and warm paint on the walls. The large TV against one wall told me this was the den. There would be at least one other living area where guests were invited, but this was the one that actually got used.
Sebastian cleared his throat. “What do you want to see?”
I shook myself, giving him my attention. “Your room?”
He nodded, pulling me toward a staircase that had to be a secondary one as well. I expected this house had a grand entrance with marble and chandeliers and dramatic stairs leading to the second floor. Places like this always did.
Bash’s room was in the middle of a long hallway. He let me step inside while he hovered by the door. The first thing I noticed was it didn’t smell like him. I walked to the bed, brushing my fingers over the navy-blue comforter. The second thing that hit me was the lack of art on the walls. There were pictures and some sports memorabilia, but nothing Sebastian had painted.
Sebastian still lingered near the door. I’d never seen him look so uncomfortable, which didn’t make sense. We were in his room. This was his home. Why did he look like he’d never been here before?
“Where do you really sleep?” I asked.
He cocked his head. “What makes you think I don’t sleep in my own room?”
“This room isn’t lived in. There’s no soul. And even if your parents are really strict, I can’t imagine a place of yours being so orderly.” I shook my head as I glanced around again. “This isn’t you. Why’d you bring me here?”
He held his hand out. “Come here.”
I went to him, too curious to resist. Cupping my jaw, he planted the softest ghost of a kiss on my lips, then he took my hand again, led us down to the den, then down another flight of stairs to a finished basement. There was yet another living space with video game consoles lining the wall atop floating shelves and an even bigger TV. We passed all that to a door around the corner. Sebastian flipped the light on, and there it was: his domain. One wall was covered entirely in his graffiti. The queen-size bed was unmade, and his cool, winter pine scent hung in the air.
I kicked off my shoes and climbed onto his bed, propping myself against the headboard and stretching out my legs just as he had in my room. Patting the space beside me, I tipped my chin.
“Sit by me and explain,” I said.
Sebastian took the spot beside me, his legs parallel to mine, and patted his thighs.
“It’d be better if you were right here.”
“I’m not doing that. Right now, I’m thinking of the times you called me ‘rich girl’ with a straight face and trying really hard not to punch you.”
“Yeah.” He exhaled, scrubbing his face with both hands. “I didn’t grow up like this, Grace, not like you did.”
“I didn’t grow up like this. Talk about rich-rich.” I shook my head, still confounded he could pick at me for coming from a family with money when the house he lived in could have easily fit three of mine.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I moved here freshman year when my dad got locked up. This is my sister’s husband’s house. Bradley. I’m not rich—he is.” He huffed with pure, icy hatred.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Dead.”
I froze, stuck between sympathy and confusion. He didn’t seem to care his mom was dead. He might as well have been telling me the weather.
“I’m sorry. Did she die recently?”
“No.” He angled his body toward mine. “She was a junkie. She died when I was ten or so. And I get that you want me to feel the way you do about your dad dying, but I don’t. My sister, Sara, took the role of mother even though she’s only six years older than me. Mom dying wasn’t much of a blip in my life.”
“And your dad...he’s a junkie too?” I angled my body too, so we were facing each other.
“Nah.” He lifted the hem of my T-shirt, rubbing it between two fingers. “He was in construction. Fell in with the wrong guys who thought it’d be a good idea to rip off their boss and some of the houses they were working on. The guys fingered my dad as the one who planned it all. He’s in for ten to fifteen this time. It isn’t his first stint, but it’ll be his longest.”
<
br /> “You never wanted to tell me any of this? When I spilled my guts to you, you didn’t think maybe you should share too? That when I said I wanted to know you, I meant it?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not proud of any of it. My parents are both pieces of shit. I live in a huge house that isn’t mine. My sister is so caught up in her new life, she’s barely recognizable. Her husband is an even bigger piece of shit than my parents. I don’t own anything here except the spray paint on my wall. When I’m with you, I don’t want to think about this. This doesn’t feel like my life. It’s a way station until I figure out where to go next.”
“But it is your life, Bash. And you’ve hidden it from me all this time on purpose.”
His eyelids lifted, and behind the anger was a hint of vulnerability that snuck through on very rare occasions. “I didn’t think you were all that interested.”
I scoffed, still pissed even though I felt myself softening slightly. What was it about this boy? I knew better. He’d shown me the most important part of himself. The monster. Why did I want to see more? That should’ve been enough. And yet, here I was. The cat who was such a slave to her curiosity, she’d have to be brutally murdered before it was sated.
“I asked you what you were doing yesterday, didn’t that sound like I was interested?”
“And you thought the worst of me when I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Hell yes I did. You keep showing me every single bad part of you. Is it a test? If it is, I think I’m going to fail because I really can’t take any more of this.”
Sebastian’s arm slid around my waist and he pulled me onto him, exactly where he’d wanted me in the first place. I had to straddle his legs so I wasn’t flat on top of him. Rolling off again wouldn’t be happening, not with his arms holding me hostage.
“You run, I chase. That’s how it works, so stop talking about walking away.” His words were threatening, but he’d turned placid with me in his lap, like he could relax now that I couldn't escape.
“Why are you like this?” I breathed. “Is force the only way you want to take me?”
He cocked his head, staring at me with his soul-deep eyes. “I don’t want to force you. If I thought you’d come to me willingly, I’d be a lot more patient with you. As to why I’m like this...I don’t know. Chemical imbalance? Early childhood trauma? Take your pick. I’ve got a garden of issues for you to choose from. But if I had to decide right now, I’d say you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. You drive me out of my mind, Grace. There are some hours of my day where all I can think about is touching you, smelling you, feeling you.” His palm trailed up my back to my neck, then beneath my hair, fisting a clump in his grip. I hissed as he steered me against his chest. “If I’d had any choice, I would have been at your place at your first invitation yesterday. Probably at your first text. The thing is, this house, all this money? It comes with a set of golden handcuffs.”
“What’s that mean?” I braced my hands on his chest.
“It means my brother-in-law has expectations I have to meet. Every Sunday, we have family dinner. We don’t talk to each other. He sure as hell doesn’t like me. But I have to be here with my ass in the chair every Sunday or I’m out. Back to military school, no hesitation.” He caught my wrists in a fierce grip. “I can’t go back there. I spent most of my sophomore year there, and I have no desire to repeat it. So, I’m a slave to Bradley’s fucking whims. Should I have texted you all that?”
I blinked at him. Then blinked again. “No. Telling me you were having a family dinner would have sufficed.”
He stared back until he cracked, cackling like a maniac. “Fucking Grace.” He tugged me flush against him. “The things you say.”
I tried to break free, but he had me. “I’m still pissed at you. Stop trying to cuddle me.”
“Never.” He wrapped both arms around my back, so tight, even squirming became next to impossible.
“Fine. I’ll ask you more questions while I’ve got you here, trapped on your bed.”
He grinned back at me. “Is that what’s happening here? I’m trapped?”
“Shut up, Sebastian.”
“Gladly.” His mouth crashed into mine.
Chapter Twenty-five
I let him kiss me, and I let myself kiss him back. Not for long. I still had questions I needed him to answer. We weren’t going to pick right back up again until he told me everything. I was done floating through this...whatever we were, while things just happened to me.
Breathless, I moved back as far as Bash would allow me, which wasn’t far.
“You can’t make things better this way.” I pushed up on his chest and gripped his jaw. “If you want me, really want me—”
His fingers circled my wrist. “I don’t know how to make it any more clear that I do.”
“You want to have sex with me.”
“I do. You want to have sex with me too.”
“Maybe. But for me, sex isn’t something that can be only physical—not if I want to enjoy it and not feel like I’ve been used as a warm hole.”
The slashes of his brows drew together in a tight line. “I don’t see you that way. I never have.”
“Not even in the van?”
He took my hand off his jaw and touched his lips to my palm. “The van was...the exception.”
No other words. I wondered if he’d ever tell me why. Maybe there was no good reason. Life could sometimes be a patchwork of chaotic moments with no meaning or purpose. I’d learned that quickly. But there was something else that had been niggling at the edges of my mind since that night.
“How did you know about Nate? In the van...how did you know what I meant?”
Sebastian sucked in a deep breath, and his grip on me loosened enough for me to sit up. But once I did, he held on to me for dear life, squelching all hope of sliding off of him onto the bed. This was okay, though. I just needed to see his face clearly when he answered me.
“What are you talking about?”
I tilted my head, trying to read him. I knew he knew exactly what I meant, but for some reason, he was hesitant to answer, which only made me want to press harder.
“I told you if you went any farther, you’d be no better than Nate, and that made you stop. How did you know what happened? The last I heard before I moved to Switzerland, Elena had told everyone I was a massive slutbag who threw myself at Nate Bergen despite knowing she had a crush on him. That was the story everyone told after a while, even Nate. So how did you know?”
“Grace…” His palms slid up my ribs, still holding me so tight, I was at his mercy.
“Sebastian.” I looked into his eyes that I once thought were black holes of emptiness. But that was just what he projected to the world. He didn’t want anyone to look deeper. I knew better now. They were unexplored caverns, leading somewhere fathomless and vast. The prospect of being the first to want to know Sebastian beneath the surface, to walk in the dark with him, was terrifying, but I’d already seen glimmers of what lay beyond the blackness, and it only drove my curiosity to see more, my safety and sanity be damned.
“Nate’s got a big mouth and he’s lacking in subtlety.” Bash’s entire demeanor hardened. That simmering rage returned, and his jaw ticked, holding it at bay. “Beginning of sophomore year, I heard him talking in the locker room before PE. He described what happened between you in detail like it was all a big joke. He was telling his boys the color of your nipples and the sounds you made when he took your virginity. Dickface advised them on how to work their way inside a pussy that wasn’t wet.”
A tear tracked down my cheek without my permission. Sebastian wiped it with his thumb, then cupped my cheek with his hot palm. I hadn’t been prepared for this. Not at all. My experience with Nate had been traumatic, not just because of how it went down, but the aftermath.
“I don’t know what happened between the two of you. I do know when I heard him talking about you, broadcasting private, personal
shit to his boys, it felt like I was witness to a violation. So, when you said that to me in the van, you took me back to that locker room. I fucking hate Nate Bergen. I never want to be anything like him.”
Humiliation burned hot inside me. How could I walk down the halls at school with this knowledge? How many boys were looking at me, thinking about the tale Nate wove?
“You’re a different kind of monster,” I murmured.
He tipped his chin. “I don’t deny that.”
“He didn’t rape me.”
His nostrils flared. “Okay.”
“I was too drunk to say yes, but I didn’t say no. I thought maybe we’d kiss, but before I knew what was happening, he was having sex with me. It was painful and embarrassing and I ran to Elena sobbing immediately after, but she already knew. She’d seen, and she was beyond pissed. She slapped me so hard, I was bruised for a week. I was already broken from my dad, then from Nate, and she ruined me after that.”
He wiped more tears from my cheeks. “Christ, Grace. You’re making me want to kill them both. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”
“It was a long time ago.” My eyelids fluttered as I leaned into his palm. “Why did you have to go to military school?”
He hesitated. Sucked in a deep breath. “Got in trouble,” he said gruffly.
“Tell me, Sebastian.”
He gripped my nape and pulled me down so we were nose to nose. “I beat the shit out of Nate Bergen. I shouldn’t have been able to. I had no muscle mass, and I’d never been in a fight before. I had the element of surprise and pure motherfucking rage on my side. It took three teachers to pull me off him.” His gaze bored into mine. “I would have killed him, Grace. He’s lucky he gets to breathe the same air as you.”
“Why, though? Why’d you defend me? You didn’t even know me back then.” My mind refused to believe he’d done that for me. It didn’t make any sense. We were strangers to each other. I couldn’t think of an explanation for him going after Nate that way.
