Wrong

by LP Lovell

  I swipe angrily at the tears. I’m angry at myself, really. This isn’t his fault, I mean seriously, what kind of person gets kidnapped and then falls in love with the guy holding her? The kind of girl who was tortured and broken. A girl who evolved in order to survive, even if that meant becoming someone she no longer recognises.

  I stay in Caleb’s room until the light starts to fade. I’m lying on his bed in the fetal position when he eventually comes in.

  “I thought you might be in here,” he says quietly. “Jude was looking for you. Asked me to come check in here.”

  But wouldn’t come and check himself, of course. “Here I am.” My voice sounds raspy and hollow.

  He sits on the bed next to me. “What’s going on, Ria?” He strokes a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

  “I asked your brother to let me go,” I whisper.

  His eyes narrow. “Huh, he didn’t mention that. How did that go?”

  “It went the way it always goes when Jude doesn’t get his way. He grabs me by the throat and orders me into submission.” I pause. “Only this time it didn’t quite end like that.” I pick at a loose string on the blanket I have wrapped around me.

  His eyes narrow, and I see concern fall over his face. “What do you mean?”

  I look up and meet his dark eyes, so full of compassion, so unlike his brother’s. “I told him I love him, Caleb.” Even to my own ears I sound small and broken. Pathetic.

  He inhales heavily before releasing a long breath. “And what did he say?” He’s not even surprised. How could he have seen it, and I not?

  “He told me that I was right, and I should leave.”

  “Goddamn it,” he mutters as he stands and turns away from me. “You’re not going to, though, right? It’s not safe.”

  “Caleb, I am in love with Jude, a man who would kill me without a second thought if I pushed him.” I’m not sure that I actually believe that anymore, but I’m the one in love with said killer, so clearly my mind isn’t exactly in the best place to call judgement.

  “He would never kill you, Ria. Trust me on that.”

  “I don’t trust anything anymore,” I murmur.

  Caleb stays with me. It’s not pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced true heartbreak. My heart isn’t broken, it feels like it’s bleeding out, shattering inside my chest.

  I press my palm to my chest as my body heaves with sobs. Caleb holds me against him, letting my tears soak through his shirt. He doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing to say. My own stupidity has brought me to this point. I thought that Jude was my absolution in this hell. I’m painfully aware of how ironic that is. We lay here in silence, my broken sobs the only sound in the room.

  I cry until I’m all cried out. I will be out of here soon and this entire nightmare will be behind me. My life will never be the same, but at least I’m alive. I will survive. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and I, of all people, know that.

  My eyes get heavy, and I fall asleep with Caleb’s arms around me. He may well be my only friend left in the world, and the thought of leaving him hurts just as much as leaving Jude.

  I wake to the sound of low voices. “Just leave her alone,” Caleb whispers.

  “She’s mine, Caleb. Remember that,” a low growl that is all Jude threatens.

  Strong arms are holding me against a very solid chest. I squint an eye open, and am looking at the side of Jude’s neck as he takes easy strides down the hall. “What are you doing?” My voice is hoarse from crying.

  He opens a door and then slams it shut behind him. “You’re not sleeping with my fucking brother.” I know him well enough to hear the barely restrained anger behind his calm words.

  He lays me down on the bed, pulling the duvet over me. His scent engulfs me, a subtle combination of cigarettes and his cologne. The smell makes me feel safe, protected.

  “I don’t want to stay with you,” I whisper groggily, sitting up. I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, the dim light of the lamp playing over his tattoos.

  He leans over me, his fingers winding into my hair as he brings his face close to mine. “You are not staying with my brother. You overestimate my self-control.”

  “It’s Caleb!” What the hell is wrong with him?

  “You’re mine, Tor. Do you fucking hear me?” he growls.

  I frown. “I’m leaving. I’m not yours, I never was.”

  A small smirk kicks up the corner of his lips. “I may let you go, but you will always be mine.” His eyes search mine desperately. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he looks haunted. For the first time since I met him, he looks shaken. That vulnerability pulls at something deep within me, something that pines for him, for this strange connection we have, no matter how twisted it might be.

  “I can’t do this with you.” My voice hitches and I try to pull away from him.

  His fingers tighten in my hair, holding me in place. “There’s no can or can’t about it, doll. This just is.” His lips brush over mine, tenderly, reverently. My body instantly responds to him, and my battered heart feels whole again the second his lips touch me. His lips move over mine and he holds me as though he’ll never let go. It’s the sweetest form of torture. I squeeze my eyes shut as tears slip free, sliding down my cheek.

  He pushes me back onto the bed, hovering over me. His eyes trace my face, a small frown line creasing his eyebrows. He gently brushes away my tears. “I’m sorry.”

  I shake my head, because I don’t want to hear it. There’s too much to apologise for, and yet he has nothing to apologise for. I foolishly did this to myself, but even in the midst of my despair, I still want him. Despite everything, I still need him.

  His lips move back over mine, and my hand skims up his defined chest, wrapping around his neck, trying to hold him to me. I wish that nothing outside of this existed, because this right here is simple and easy. This is right.

  His hand releases my hair, and cups my face. His eyes lock with mine, and something passes between us, something so pure and beautiful that it should not exist amongst this darkness. What we have is like a poppy blooming from the blood-soaked soil of war. A beautiful tragedy.

  His thumb strokes over my bottom lip. “I can’t change who I am.” He kisses me gently, his lips barely brushing against mine. “I wish I could.” I hear everything he doesn’t say. He can’t change what he is. Our worlds are so different, and in a different time, a different place, maybe he would love me, but this is hell, and in hell there are no happy endings.

  His hand strokes over my neck, and he drops his face to the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. “I wish I could…” he whispers.

  “I wish I could…” The scent of her makes me weak. I pull in another deep breath, savoring the way she smells, the way she feels beneath me, because this will be the last time I ever have her like this, and that damn near kills me.

  “So do I,” she chokes.

  When did I become this man? When the fuck did I start to care about someone? My chest tightens. This is too much; I suddenly realize I’m not the man I thought I was, at least not with her. I can’t change that I’m fucked up, that my life will end in nothing but ruin; I can’t be the man she deserves. I can’t change my fate, but I can change hers.

  I feel her fingers trail down my arms as I gently kiss her neck. My throat tightens, and all I can do is hold my lips against her skin while my fingers tangle in her hair. All I want to do is tell her I’m sorry; really, I want to beg her not to go, but as selfish of a man as I am, I won’t do that. I love her and I want to tell her, but I can’t, and damn is this hard because I would do anything for her, even if it means losing her.

  I tilt her chin back and trail kisses along her collarbone, her neck, her chin. I rest my lips against her and shut my eyes. Closing the gap between our mouths, I feel her lips tremble as they touch mine. I inhale and kiss her hard, deep, as mercilessly as I can. My mouth never leaves hers as I reach for the hem of her s
hirt. Her fingers claw at my back and her legs wrap around my hips. I tear my lips from hers and pull the shirt over her head, immediately slamming my mouth back down on hers because I can’t get enough. I can’t kiss her hard enough. I just need her. Right now.

  I fumble with the zipper of my jeans, and she pushes the waist down. I grab her, kneading her skin in my palms as I take her underwear and tear them off of her. I glide my hands over her, trying to burn each detail of her body into my mind, because this is all I’ll ever have. This fucking moment right here is my last with her. I trace my fingers over her, her legs smooth beneath my palms as I sink my hand between her warm thighs. “Fuck,” I growl when my finger slides over her. I tease her entrance, groaning against her neck as I slip a finger in. She’s fucking mine. All mine.

  I roll my bottom lip along her mouth, breathing heavily as I kiss down her neck, down the middle of her breasts, my hands raking over her body. My tongue circles her tight nipple, and I bite down gently before I make my way down the curve of her side. She grabs the back of my head as her fingers twist in my hair and her back bows from the bed. I turn my head and kiss down her arm to her wrist, my hand caressing over her breasts. I trail my tongue over her stomach, her hips, spreading her legs as I lay down between them. I grip her thighs as I release a breath over pussy, and she tugs my hair, her hips raising from the bed.

  “Don’t move,” I groan against her, locking my eyes on hers.

  I slowly roll the tip of my tongue over her. The taste of her makes every piece of man in me want to fuck her hard right now, but I want to give her something more than just primitive desire. I groan again, my fingers digging into her hips. I gently kiss over her, nipping her before flicking my tongue along her wet slit. She moans, jerking my head to the side as she wiggles underneath me. All I can do is stare at her. I fucking want her so bad. I want to fuck my goddamn soul into her so she know she belongs to me. I slam my mouth over her pussy, growling as I circle my tongue over her swollen clit, my tongue darting deep inside her. Her hips buck, and I pin them down. She’s breathless, her chest rising and falling in deep, desperate swells. I press deeper into her, so deep that my teeth scrape against her as I fuck her with my mouth. She groans as her hands fly to the headboard. Her legs fall weightlessly to the side, her heels digging into the bed as she rolls her hips, grinding her pussy against my mouth. I drag her clit between my teeth and bite down. I hear her nails scratching against the headboard as her hips buck wildly, and she cries out my name like it’s a damn prayer.

  I sit up, abruptly grabbing her ankles and yanking her down the bed to me. I roll on top of her, covering her lips with mine in a desperate kiss. I can’t possibly get close enough to this fucking woman. My hand grips the back of her head and I rip my mouth from hers, our eyes locking. My chest is heaving, my heart slamming against my ribs, and all I can do is stare into those steel blue eyes, losing a piece of myself to her. She wraps her legs around my waist and I push into her, slow and steady as inch by inch of me is covered in her warmth. I pull her up, setting her in my lap as I thrust deep into her. My arms close around her, bringing her chest flush with mine, the beads of her nipples brushing over my slick skin with each deep thrust. Her heels dig into my ass as she moans, her hands finding their way to the back of my head. I fist her hair and bring her face to mine, resting my forehead against hers as I fuck myself into her. Our gazes are locked, our bodies tangled, and my fucking heart is ripping from my chest as tears streak down her cheeks. I grip the back of her head. “I’m sorry, Tor. I’m sorry.”

  She nods, crying as she pulls in a hard breath. I kiss her, the salty taste of her tears touching my lips. This is not fucking fair. I drive into her harder. I’m fucking angry. I’m fucking hurting. I don’t want to let her go. I want to make her feel what she does to me, I want to make her physically feel how badly I need her, how in fucking love with her I am.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe again. That’s all I can say. That’s all I will say. Her nails carve into my shoulders, and she buries her face in my neck. I feel her entire body shake, her muscles tense, and her pussy clenches around me. I press into her harder, clinging to her like she’s life itself as every last inch of me tightens. I groan, my body raising from the bed as I come and fall back onto the mattress, pulling her down on top of me.

  We lay there, her face buried in my neck, my arms holding her to me. We don’t say another word to one another. I think we can’t at this point, because what is there really to say? I’m losing everything to give her nothing...but really, nothing is better than anything I can give her. She falls asleep in my arms, and I comb my hands through her long hair, every so often feeling tears roll onto my shoulder as she cries in her sleep. This is what I’ve done to her. She can’t even find peace within dreams. And what in the hell has she done to me? There are no fucking words for a woman who can soften a heart as cold and empty as mine. I know there is not another woman that will make me feel this way. Nothing this wrong should feel this right.

  I wake up to bright sunlight streaming through the open curtain. I roll over in the bed to find Jude gone. My chest aches with disappointment, but I know it’s probably for the best. I just need to go without seeing him. Last night was too much. I saw a side of him that I’ve never seen, and it only makes me love him more. Every fibre of my being wants to believe that he feels something for me, but he hasn’t said it. They say actions speak louder than words, but sometimes you need to hear the words.

  I sit up in the bed and lean down, picking up my shirt from the floor. I’m used to feeling sore and used after a night with Jude. I don’t this morning.

  Fuck, I need to get my head together. He fucks me up. I didn’t want to see him last night because it hurts, but Jude, being Jude, doesn’t give a shit. He takes what he wants without apology. He wants me, he wants to own me, possess me, and he doesn’t want to share me, even if that means leaving me and my bleeding heart in the hands of his brother, my friend. I wish I could hate him, it would make this easier.

  There’s a soft knock on the door, so soft I almost am not certain I heard it. The door opens slowly and Jude steps in. My heart squeezes, faltering in my chest. I glance up at him slowly. His hair is messy, like he’s been dragging his hands through it, and his eyes are distant.

  My lungs seize under that scrutinizing stare. I tear my gaze away, unable to look at him.

  Each step he takes in my direction makes me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling anything for him, and the shame and resentment are eating me alive.

  “You’re leaving in an hour.” The bed dips when he sits down next to me, but I still can’t force my eyes up. “Did you hear me, Tor?”

  I nod. That’s all I can do.

  He lifts my chin, his fingers curling tenderly around it as he brings my eyes up to his. “I want you to do exactly as I say. You have to promise me you will stay safe.”

  I take a steadying breath before meeting his eyes. Bad idea. “Safe? What’s the point in safe when you have nothing?” I whisper. At least here I have nothing, but I have him. Out there I’ll be completely alone, a dead girl walking amongst the living. He breathes life into what little existence I have, but for how long? He is what he is, he will never be the guy that you marry, that you have kids with. He chose this life, and in doing so his future will always be precarious. Loving him only puts me in danger and jeopardizes what small chance at a future I have. I could sacrifice my future for love. Love is that which we most cherish, that which countless wars have been fought for and men will willingly die for. I would sacrifice everything for love, for him, but when that love is unrequited...it becomes nothing more than a tragic fantasy, a fleeting dream.

  He looks remorseful, and it hurts to see. His eyes drop to the floor as he takes a heavy breath. “You’ll do as I say to stay safe. I will have eyes on you, wherever you go.” He says sternly. “I promised I would protect you, and I will, even if I can’t do it in person.”

  He’s seriously sending people to watch me
? I know it’s crazy, and I want to say something, but at this stage, I just need out. Once I’m away from here, I can assess my options.

  He hands me a bundle of papers bound with a rubber band. “This is who you will be from now on.” He undoes the rubber band and sorts through the items. “You’re going to London. There’s a passport and ID,” he says as he hands me the papers.

  I glance over the documents in front of me. Documents for Tor Pearson. My eyes slowly move to his, and I search his face for something...anything. Why would he give me his surname?

  “Caleb will take you to the airport.” He shifts, his leg brushing against mine. “I’ve arranged for you to have an apartment, or flat, whatever the fuck you call them, and you’ll have enough money in an account to take care of you for”—his eyes flick up to mine and I notice him swallow—“for a very long time.”

  I start to say something but he keeps going, very matter-of-factly, without any emotion. “You must not contact your sister. I’m sorry. You are dead, remember that, because the moment Victoria Deveaux is found to be alive, you will be murdered.” He swallows heavily. “And the thought of that kills me.”

  I swallow back my tears, shutting out the little voice in my head that is begging me to take it back, to never leave him. “Thank you.” I can’t seem to muster the appropriate emotion over this. I just feel...numb, cold.

  Jude sweeps my hair away from my neck and I feel him place something around it. I glance down to find a necklace with a hummingbird, much like the one I had when I came here, but it’s much more elegant, with emeralds set in the wings. “It was my mother’s,” he says, adjusting it.