Unhinged

by Pamela Ann

  I was my own enemy because, if he had really stopped—God help me—I wouldn’t forgive him. At the same time, I couldn’t fathom his hate. I felt it. I could almost taste it. It practically permeated the air around me.

  I was torn between wanting so much more and settling for a scrap of his attention. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

  Hell. The madness that had haunted me ever since leaving Monaco simply had to be booted out of my life, or I would never be normal again.

  Despite all my conflicting emotions, the beautiful feel of his cock slipping in and out of me was sublime. He felt just as I had imagined—potently intoxicating and totally life altering. How could someone be so infuriating yet be so magical at the same time?

  “This was what you came here for, Isobel. Stop pretending you don’t love what I’m doing to you,” he angrily grunted out with each mind-blowing drive into my pussy. “Admit it—say it. I want to hear you say it.”

  “No, I won’t admit to anything.” It was true, and we both knew it, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  He was none too pleased by my apparent stubbornness. “This will be one hell of a long night if you don’t—”

  “Then it’ll be a long fucking night we shall endure, Hugo.”

  “I have a feeling you’d love just that. In fact, isn’t that what you came for tonight—to stay the night in my bed? I’m right, aren’t I, Isobel?” He smirked before gripping the sides of my hips then shifted his stance to spread my legs even wider, giving him more access to go deeper into me, into my soul.

  Shit fucking cakes, how did he expect me to respond when he was stringing me out and playing me like a perfected version of Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons”? I was putty in his hands, in his touch, and in his voice. I was enslaved by the kind of exquisiteness it produced. Through the haze, I was almost convinced that everything would be all right, until he spoke again.

  “What do you want from me?” His question came out accusatory, as if I came here with another agenda in mind apart from my sexual urges.

  I panted, staring at him wide-eyed and exposed, undone.

  “You,” I shakily whispered with everything in me. “I just want you.”

  He frowned, halting himself from moving whilst throbbing deeply inside my womb. Seeming as if he couldn’t fathom what I had just told him, he murmured, “You had your chance.”

  “I want another,” I choked out, pleading. “Please, I want to be with you, Hugo. Let me be with you.”

  “I don’t give second chances. I won’t change my mind, not even for you.”

  He was stubborn and unbending. His made up rules were so ingrained in his psyche that he couldn’t see that I had changed, that things were not the same with me anymore.

  “That’s very cruel. Everyone deserves a second chance.” I was almost sobbing, but the very thought of crying and him thinking that I had used tears to bend his decision about me made me steel myself and not drop a tear. The last thing I needed was pity, not when I was pleading in such a manner, not when he was still inside me. Still, he denied me.

  “Not in my book, they don’t,” he insisted, scrutinizing me in such a way that made me feel even more naked than I already was. It was as though he was staring into my soul, into my heart, leaving me breathless, bare, and utterly defenseless.

  Maybe I was powerless, because I had been denying the truth and what had been staring at me all this time. Yes, I truly was helpless, and I couldn’t deny the truth any longer. I needed to say it.

  Licking my lips, my eyes flickered back and forth, searching for a clue, something. “Not even if I feel like I’m falling in love with you, Hugo?”

  He looked horrified before he made a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t be absurd, Isobel. There’s despair, and then there’s desperation. Don’t throw out those words just because you’re not getting your way. It’s highly insulting!”

  He laughed—he fucking laughed when it took every ounce of me to say the words. That truly hurt.

  “But it’s the truth. I do,” I insisted, my heart feeling like there was a hand squeezing it tightly. “I feel it in every fiber of me. When you touch me, I come alive. You make me feel things, things I haven’t felt before, not even with Damen—”

  “Stop it with these lies! I don’t want to hear any of it,” he growled in my face.

  “You can make me stop talking about it, but you can’t stop me from feeling it.” No, I wasn’t going to stop simply because he wouldn’t accept it. It was the most honest thing I had told him.

  He was so beside himself with fury that he had a hard time looking me in the eye. “That’s enough, Isobel. I’ve had enough of your lies!” he said, easing himself out of me. Then he marched out of the bathroom, finally leaving me alone.

  Once trust was lost, it was lost forever. So where did that leave me after tonight, especially after I had acknowledged that I was in love with him? How could I move on from this massive blow of rejection?

  Quietly weeping against the wall, I comforted myself that at least I had a brilliant support system and that every woman had to go through a painful heartbreak so we could learn from our mistakes. I was young after all; I could surely recover from this, right?

  Chapter 12

  Isobel

  For what seemed like ages, I sagged against the wall, weeping for the lost love I never had the chance to know. It was a shame I had realized too late, but I supposed, like all things, it had happened for a reason. For what specific reason, though? I had yet to find out, but for the meantime, I could falsely comfort myself with the sentiment.

  Exiting the bathroom fully clothed, I was surprised to find Hugo in the same spot as when I had entered the hotel room hours ago with a drink in hand, but this time, he appeared solemn and had the intensity of danger about him. I supposed he loathed me on sight, and I couldn’t really blame him, because I had betrayed him in the cruelest of ways. I had breached his trust, and there was no way of regaining it. I simply had to accept it.

  Our eyes connected, and for a moment, I was contemplating if I should even say a word of goodbye or simply make a nod then leave without a word.

  Without blinking, he gave me a piercing look. “Why do you do the things you do, Isobel? Is it because you’re young and naïve, or is it because you’re simply selfish?”

  What was he referring to, exactly? Shaking my head, I voiced out my confusion. “I don’t under—”

  “Don’t you, really?” he questioned derisively. “I wanted you like I had never wanted anyone in my life. I was so ensnared that I altered my ways to win you,” he calmly reflected, though he had a hard time letting the words past his lips. “You made me smile. Being around you made me feel good inside. You made me happy in ways I couldn’t explain … You were this beautiful, complicated woman I wanted to unfurl slowly, piece by piece. I wanted to discover all the different layers of you. You hounded my thoughts, and I simply couldn’t go about my working day without thinking of you, but you repaid my kindness by being deceitful.” He cocked his head to the side, reflective. “Betrayal changes people. It changed me.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.” There was no way I could stop the tears that were brimming around my eyes. After hearing him admit to how close I had been to him before, I realized once more what I had truly lost with him. I would never know now, and I only had myself to blame for losing him.

  I was so blinded by my tears that I didn’t catch him moving towards me until he became a teary blur standing right before me. His hands softly cradled my face while his thumbs wiped my hot tears away.

  “I know you are, but you have to let me go, Isobel. It’s the only way.” The old Hugo I knew so well appeared before me. It was the way he spoke, the way he was looking at me. It was just like in Monaco.

  Deep in my heart, I knew I had to let him go. He had left me no other choice. Just as quickly as I had let love fill me, I had to eject it, too. Sorrow filled me as I cried harder.

  “I know it’
s too late, but please don’t deny me when I tell you I love you.” I sniffed, weeping harder when he gently kissed my forehead. “I love you,” I breathlessly stated.

  “Ma belle…”

  “I love you,” I murmured brokenly before I felt him kiss my cheek, raggedly breathing against it. “Je t’aime…” Seeking his lips, I softly kissed them. It was a small gesture that meant everything to me, signifying that I was letting him go.

  I took a moment to bask in his smell, in his touch, and the warmth he gave me inside before finally using all of my strength to slowly detach myself from him. With my head down, I pressed my lips together as I gave a final nod before I finally walked away, heading towards the door.

  My tears were undeniable, and even though my vision was blurry, I still made my way out, walking briskly, hoping to find the elevator soon.

  “Isobel!” he screamed, his voice echoing through the floor.

  Upon hearing my name, I stopped, feeling wretchedly weak. Without turning around, I wrapped my arms around myself, bracing for the reason why he had halted me from leaving this time.

  He didn’t even have to utter anything; I could feel his presence approaching. When he stopped right behind me without touching me at all, I felt his breath hit the back of my neck before he burrowed his face in my hair, breathing me in.

  “Stay … Stay with me tonight.”

  Without saying a word, I nodded, granting him whatever he wished from me. If tonight was the only one I would spend in his arms, then I would make the most of it.

  He made a tiny kiss on my nape before unexpectedly plucking me off the floor, carrying me in his arms and back into his room. This time, though, he led me to a different bedroom—his. He didn’t bother turning on the lights as he took us to the bed where he deposited my body before joining me, pulling me in his arms, comforting me while my tears streamed freely.

  It was heaven and hell to be surrounded by his warmth and sharing a bed with him again. It reminded me of our time in Monaco, but this time, the roles were reversed. The irony was rather funny. I would have laughed, too, if my heart hadn’t been hurting so much.

  “Don’t waste anymore tears for me, Isobel. I hurt seeing you like this,” he said, holding me tighter.

  I knew, deep down, he wouldn’t compromise his beliefs for me. And, as much as it pained me to admit, I also knew he was doing this to make sure I would be okay tonight. That was the kind of man he was—the old Hugo I had fallen in love with.

  I love you…

  Falling asleep in his arms, I vowed the words to my heart over and over again.

  Hours later, I woke up from the vibrations of my phone that was in my clutch behind my back. My eyes were swollen, and the dried tears made it hard to open them. Peeling them wider, I blinked a few times before I noted the rise and fall of Hugo’s chest and the calming beat of his heart that had lulled me to sleep without a fight.

  Slowly twisting myself around, I shifted my body to face away from him before reaching for my purse, taking the phone out to check who the caller was. I had several from my father, a few calls and messages from Claire, and the recent one from Damen. Glancing at the time, I wondered what he wanted at three-thirty in the morning.

  Just as I finished wondering, my phone vibrated once more, indicating a text message.

  It was from Damen.

  Where are you? I’m in your bed. I’m sorry, but I had to be with you. This is the only place I want to be, Izz.

  Shit. Quickly typing back my reply, I attempted to figure out what to do next.

  You’re drunk, aren’t you?

  That was the only explanation. Damen continually made drastic gestures when drunk. Always.

  I was with her tonight … I couldn’t do it, Izz.

  Fuck. What did I say to that?

  Biting my lip, I stared at the screen, speechless, until my phone vibrated again.

  Izz? Are you mad?

  No, of course I wasn’t mad. However, if I told him the truth about my whereabouts and what I had been up to earlier tonight, he would be very unforgiving. To make matters worse, Damen wouldn’t leave until I was back, and if I decided to come home in the morning, I would deal with more interrogation, so it was best to handle it right now.

  Hating myself for leaving Hugo’s side, I also couldn’t deny the fact that he didn’t try anything sexual with me. I basically fell asleep in his arms, sobbing until I was unconscious. It was a subtle rejection, but it was a big sign, nonetheless.

  Gently rolling to shift to my other side to face him, I let my eyes feast on him sleeping soundly. My phone kept vibrating, but I ignored it, wanting to memorize this moment in my heart forever.

  Last night was our last, and I was appreciative that he had given me that courtesy, comforting me even though he was the reason I was broken. This was it. I could walk away, thinking that we had somehow had a moment together.

  “I will never forget you,” I whispered before leaving a kiss on his chest.

  Releasing a sigh, I took hold of my purse then began to edge away from him, only to release a shrieking sound when I felt a strong, tight grip on my arm.

  “You’re going back to him, aren’t you?” he hissed out murderously.

  I wasn’t going back to him in the sense he was implying, but given the death stare he was giving me, I had to tell him what had happened.

  “I have to. I don’t know what happened, but he’s in my bedroom—”

  “I didn’t buy you a place so you could fuck him there, Isobel!” The demon was back, and he was seeing red everywhere.

  “I know you didn’t, Hugo—”

  “But you did, didn’t you?”

  I knew saying anything at this point was too much, so instead, I remained silent, feeling the heavy weight of his revulsion.

  “Answer me!”

  Casting my eyes down, I bit into my lip, contemplating if I should tell him. “I did everything … everything but that.”

  He released a big sigh of relief before he let go of my arm then slid off the bed. Then back and forth he went, pacing at the foot of the bed before finally stopping in the middle, throwing me a questioning look.

  “Are you planning to?”

  “No. Right now, no, of course not.”

  He was judging me with my past actions once more, and it stung greatly that I would forever be known to him as the woman who had slept with another man after leaving his bed.

  “You will, though … Someday, you will because, deep down, you believe you belong with him.”

  Did I? At one point in time, I truly did. Now? I wasn’t so sure anymore. I didn’t have an answer to give him, but what did it matter? It was apparent where I stood with him, so he shouldn’t even question me with any of this. It was then my phone decided to break the silence between us, flashing Damen’s name on it.

  “He’s in your bed, dying to fuck you senseless.” His snide remark angered me.

  “Well, at least someone does!” I replied. “So let me leave and get on with my life so he can fuck me senseless!”

  “Then go! Before I fucking throttle you with my bare hands, you lying cunt!”

  I heatedly chucked my phone at him, but his reflexes were too quick not to catch it. Too much adrenaline was running through my veins, and I knew I had to get out of there before we literally killed each other. Besides, the things that were coming out of our mouths were truly hurtful, and I couldn’t bear another second of it.

  “Give me my phone, please.”

  “No.” He then had the audacity to place it in his pocket before giving me a straight look. “You agreed to stay with me tonight, and you will do just that. I’ll take you home first thing in the morning.”

  What. The. Fuck.

  “You just called me a lying cunt, and you expect me to stay here with you, in your bed, sleeping next to you as if you didn’t fucking insult me? Are you fucking mad?”

  “I am…” He suddenly looked defeated, as if all the fight had left him, and all that was l
eft in him was sadness. “I can’t stand the thought of you with another man. I fucking can’t.”

  “But you don’t want me…” I stared at him in disbelief. “You said you don’t want me.”

  “I can’t… I can’t be with you, Isobel.” He made the saddest of smiles I had ever seen a man make, breaking my heart into pieces all over again. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t be with you the way you want me to. It’s just not possible.”

  “I don’t understand…”

  “My past…” he started saying. “There are some things in my past that will never allow me to care deeply for someone. I could love you. I would if I could.”

  He wasn’t making any sense at all. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I have to set you free. Even if it isn’t easy for me, I need to let you go.”

  Something cold wrapped about my heart. There was something chilling in the way he said it, like I was safer to be away from him.

  “What’s in your past, Hugo? What’s so awful that you’re willing to sacrifice our happiness for it?”

  Chapter 13

  Isobel

  “It’s wise to leave it be and never ask about it, Isobel.” Hugo’s words barely registered as I remembered a similar odd warning.

  He’s enigmatic and an excellent lover. He will shower you with everything and will say beautiful words that will make you feel hopeless, but I warn you, never fall for him. You don’t want that kind of life.

  Chantel’s words rang loudly in my ears as I recalled that conversation we’d had before we went to the spa. What kind of life did she mean? I knew she wasn’t referring to Hugo and his girlfriends. What did Chantel know about Hugo’s past?

  “Leave it be?” It was an impossible task. How could he say those things and then expect me to simply shove it in some back corner of my brain? “I know what you were trying to say, Hugo, but is there any other way that it could work? You might not be ready to tell me what it is, but please tell me there’s some way around it?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that,” he said in an eerie manner. “It’s a gamble I don’t ever want to chance…”