Chapter 81: All He’ll Ever Be: Endless – Chapter 78

“You okay?” Jase asks me as we stand in the foyer of the Cross estate. Everyone was silent on the ride over here. Cars escorted ours in front and back, even on the sides when the road was wide enough. The security detail was hovering close around me, but it seemed more like guarding a prisoner than protecting an ally. Every minute that passed made me feel more and more like I didn’t belong.

It made me feel like I’d made a mistake not leaving when I could have.

“Hey, you okay?” Jase asks me again as the men filter out of the foyer.

“You sure you should be talking to me?” I ask him in return and his huff of a laugh soothes a small part of my broken spirit. Without a doubt, I’ve fallen for Carter, but it wasn’t until today that I realized how much I love his family too. Even while coated in the blood of my own family.

“It’s tense, but everything will be all right.”

“I don’t know how you can think that,” I answer him and my voice cracks. I know the men departing must hear how weak I am, and I hate it. This isn’t the woman I want to be. Clearing my throat and focusing on the one thing I can confide in Jase about, I tell him, “He’s angry with me.”

“He was worried, Aria. We all were. We thought those men took you.” It takes me a moment to realize what he’s saying, to realize what Carter must’ve felt and guilt and insecurity weigh heavily against my chest.

So guilty. What have I done to bear all this guilt that has seeped into my gut?

“Besides, Carter’s always angry.” Jase tries to joke, to lighten the pain of what happened tonight. It doesn’t help me though. There’s nothing in this world that can help me now.

“I thought things were different,” I whisper. But I didn’t know this would happen. Deep down I knew it was coming, although I wanted to deny it. It’s all coming to a head and I know I’m going to hate the outcome either way. There was never a thing that could have helped me. Not a damn thing that would have saved me. I’m a woman born to breed pain and misery. My last name demands it.

“We’re still at war. A single battle was fought and men on both sides died. It’s going to cause tension.”

“Tension,” I scoff, although it’s not meant to come out in an offensive way. It’s just that tension isn’t a strong enough word to describe the animosity and uncertainty stretching the space between us. The pure agony stifling both of us.

“Aren’t you the one who called us the enemy?” Jase asks, reminding me of the words I told Eli only hours before his death. The memory sends a trickle of regret down my spine.

“Is that not what we are?” I ask him back in a low breath, peering into his eyes and wishing he would tell me otherwise. Even if it is a lie.

A beat passes, and there’s nothing but silence. I wonder vaguely if the other men can hear. Or if Carter is maybe listening. If he even cares to listen at this point. He didn’t speak a word to me in the car. He sat in the front, not in the back with me.

Jase only nods solemnly but squeezes my hand, then adds, “Falling in love with the enemy is torture.” With a sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, he lets go. I’m forced to watch him leave me, walking down the foyer, his footsteps echoing in the empty hall until my gaze lands on the photograph at the very end. The black-and-white shot of a house that feels as if it’s lingered in the back of my mind. The importance of it, my thoughts long to remember.

If I had a choice, I’d go there now, just to see why the image haunts me. It has to do with Carter, I know it does. And I need to know anything and everything that has to do with Carter.

Our families and pride may be at war, but not my heart. My heart belongs to him. I know it with everything in me. It’s why I could never leave him, even if the option was handed to me so easily.

But in this moment, it feels as if he’s ripped it from my chest and thrown it out in the cold, leaving it there to die. Covered in my family’s blood and ripping me from the doorway, slamming it shut and screaming at me as if I’m a fool wasn’t at all what I expected.

Whatever point he wanted to make in front of his men, I’m sure they heard it loud and clear.

He doesn’t love me.

How many times have I said, “I love you,” to him and I was given nothing in return?

A parched sensation blankets my throat, so dry it’s futile to try to swallow.

The sound of heavy footsteps coming closer to me from the doorway at the end of the long hall, makes my body flinch with each step. They’re brutal and dominating. They belong to Carter, no doubt.

Confirming my thought, the brooding beast enters the hall, a bottle of whiskey in his left hand and a tumbler with ice in his right. He doesn’t bother to hide how pissed he still is. Pissed at me, judging from his acrimonious glare. Again I find myself unable to swallow, but I can’t help confronting him.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I bite out the words as he starts to walk past me, down to the hall leading to his wing and presumably his bedroom or office. “What the fuck did I do but merely exist in the painful life I didn’t choose?”

My heart batters against my chest while I wish to either run with fear, or beat him with pent-up rage. I’m not sure which.

Even though my own legs feel weak and numb from everything that’s happened tonight, keeping me planted where I am, Carter’s move forward as he ignores my question.

How fucking dare he ignore me.

With my ragged voice raised, I scream at him until my face is hot. “What did I do to deserve this?”

It only takes three strides before Carter’s powerful presence is towering over me, and I nearly stumble backward. Nearly, but I keep my ground. I’m breathing chaotically and waiting for him to give me something. Anything is better than being ignored, made to feel like I don’t even exist.

“Where do I start, Miss Talvery?” His voice is low as he moves down until his face is eye level with mine. He practically sneers my name and it shreds me from the inside. “You pointed a gun at me. You stand with your ex-lover and your father who have tried to kill me, not once, not twice, but every chance they get. Including the time one week ago, by said, fucking, ex, in which you knew what was happening but said nothing.” The last word is sneered. He inhales deeply, pausing as pain rips through me.

I worry my bottom lip between my teeth before I bite down on it hard. The physical pain is vastly preferable to the emotional pain that boils inside of me at his aggressive attitude.

Carter already knew all of that when he fucked me the other night. When he held me like he loved me. Nothing has changed for me, and I don’t deserve this. I love him. I’ve chosen him time and time again. The fact I’m still here after everything is proof of that.

“And then you tried to run,” he adds and I whip my hand across his face. It’s purely out of instinct, generated by his arrogance and the way I feel used and defiled by him. My palm smacks hard against his chiseled cheek and my fingers follow.

His face is like fucking stone. My hand throbs with a stinging, burning pain and as I wince, my eyes stay on Carter’s unmoving expression. It didn’t affect him in the least. All of the sickness and hurt that ache inside of me, I feel it all and he feels nothing.

Nothing.

“I didn’t,” I tell him, knowing I didn’t try to run. It was only a passing thought and I won’t be accused of anything more than that. Not when everything is stacked against us and I’m doing everything I can to stay by him. Even when he stands firmly against me.

Time passes and he merely stares at me, judging me, but I let him see the pain. I want to hide myself in this lonesome tower he’s put me in, but I stand in front of him with my hands in fists by my side and beg him to feel what I feel. And to take it away.

“I don’t deserve this, Carter,” I say and my voice is strangled. Please just take it all away. I wish he could do that for me. However it entails, I don’t want to feel this way for a second longer.

“I thought they’d taken you,” he continues to talk with a look of disgust on his face, even though pain is etched into his words. “But you were just sneaking out to run away. What a fucking fool I was,” he sneers.

“You are a fucking fool.” I mimic his mocking tone, refusing to give him all of me when he chooses to believe otherwise. Holding my hand, which has started to go numb, I back away from him, knowing this battle is over and both of us have lost. “I wasn’t running,” I tell him the truth and then add, “And I won’t say it again.” The strength in my voice comes from some part of me deep inside. The part of me that knows I could stand beside this man. The part desperate to do exactly that.

His gaze assesses me, scrutinizing my expression.

“I’m not lying, Carter. I have no reason to lie to you.” I let my voice soften, to show him the vulnerability. “I love you. Even through all this, I can’t stop loving you. Yes, I had a chance to run, and I didn’t take it. I wanted to stay with you.”

My heart flickers in my chest, barely holding on to life as Carter’s expression doesn’t change, then another second passes and another.

“You don’t believe me?” I say weakly with disbelief.

“You’ve hurt me once. Right there,” he says then gestures with his hand behind me, to the hall that leads to the room where I held a gun to his head. “How can I believe you?”

“If you didn’t think you could believe me,” I say to try to numb the pain growing inside of me, like a ball of bile that drops in my stomach, “then why bring me back here?” All I can think is that he doesn’t love me. He doesn’t anymore.

Silence.

It’s unbearably silent as my stomach churns while Carter walks off, leaving me without an answer. Without telling me that he loves me, even though I’m the fool who spoke those words to him.

Carter

My phone is constantly ringing, pinging, vibrating. Constantly distracting me from life itself and reminding me that I’m in control. It never lets up. Even now, the instant I turn notifications back on I’m flooded with alerts.

Every second the car moved and she said nothing—my Aria said nothing at all, not one fucking word to me or anyone else—every second of silence that passed only made the hate for what she’d done grow. She may not have been with her father or his men. But she sided with him nonetheless.

My phone goes off again, vibrating in my hand and it rattles against the cut crystal tumbler. With the adrenaline and anxiousness still ringing in my blood, my grip tightens, feeling the hard metal of the phone digging into my flesh as I open my bedroom door.

I need a fucking minute. One goddamn minute to take control again.

The incessant buzzing in my hand mocks me and I slam the door shut behind me, feeling my muscles tighten and the air thin as I struggle to keep my breathing steady.

Setting down the tumbler and bottle of whiskey on the dresser, I glance at my phone, unable to simply shut the fucking thing off.

It’s Sebastian.

The intensity dims, the heat subsides. He always has a way of showing up when I need him most.

I heard what happened, his message reads and as I stare at his text, another comes in. I know you’ll probably say the same as always, that you don’t need me to come back, but I have to ask. Do you want my help?

I stare at the last line, taking in the word “want.” When Sebastian left, it was a while before we talked again, given everything that changed the very next day. The day I had my unfortunate introduction to Aria’s father.

I thought you were busy with Chloe and work? I write back then press send, still staring at the word “want.”

He’s asked a few times, when shit got rough over the years, if I needed him to come back.

“Need” being the operative word. And back then, knowing what happened between him and Romano, I never would have allowed him to come back and risk a damn thing. Not with a girl by his side. The girl who is now his wife, not to mention very much pregnant.

The guard job is over; it was just a summer gig.

He never stopped traveling. They moved from place to place when they ran from our hometown. He had enough money to keep them afloat until they found a bed and breakfast to hide away in, located on a huge cattle farm. He’s been there for a while and it took him a long time, not until last year, nearly ten years after leaving this place to come back. The farm’s shut down, the land’s sold, and Chloe’s pregnant. He has no reason to come back, not with the money he still has and the extra he makes doing security detail work. But I know he longs to come home, especially given Romano has no control here anymore. Even if he doesn’t want to admit the one thing that’s really held him back is Chloe.

I thought you said you and this city just don’t mix. I can’t help asking, pushing him away further and knowing full well what I’m doing.

Do I want him back? Yes. I need him now more than ever. Every piece of what I’ve built is crumbling and a part of me, the part that’s very much alive, wishes desperately that I could do what he did. That I could take Aria and simply run. To leave this shit behind, and make it just Aria and me. No one else, no problems, nothing but what we pack in a car before taking off. If I could trade places with him, I would.

But I have my brothers to look after, and consequences to suffer.

At one point, Sebastian was like the older brother I never had. And when he came here to see the safe house last year, I thought he’d stay. I should have known better. The world changed when he left, becoming darker, colder, and he didn’t want it for Chloe.

I knew I was descending deeper and deeper into the pits of hell, a misery of my own making, when I watched them drive away. He said he’d be back, but it’s been roughly a year. A year of messaging off and on. And a year that’s changed everything.

I don’t care what I said before. I want to come back, Carter. You need my help.

Aria

It takes a long time for me to move from where Carter’s left me. Daniel comes to check on me, to tell me Addison’s in the study if I want company. He’s not nearly as soft toward me as he was back at the safe house. I appreciate it either way though.

The thought of facing Addison though, knowing how she has Daniel and I don’t have Carter… I can’t take it right now.

Jase comes by again, although he doesn’t speak. He only squeezes my shoulders and offers me a weak smile that I return with a shake of my head.

Even Declan comes by and tells me he’ll make me something to eat if I want, but I know I would throw it up if I could even manage to take a bite of anything at all.

It takes me a long, long time before I start walking down to Carter’s wing. The idea of staying in the hideaway room offers a small bit of comfort. I could be alone and break down where the only person who would see is Carter, if he bothered to check on me.

But I don’t want to hide – even if I do want to be alone. Time is precious and I don’t want to live like this.

I’m halfway to Carter’s bedroom when my pace picks up. His door is closed, and I’m scared it will be locked when I grip the carved glass knob, but it turns easily for me.

Too easily, even.

The savage man I love is standing at his dresser, the whiskey bottle still sealed in front of him. But shattered glass scatters moonlight around the room as the curtains sway from the air blowing through the vents, letting in glimpses of the light.

It looks as if he must’ve slammed the glass down too hard and with another step into the room, my eyes assessing his hand as I close the door behind me, I can see the cuts that line his skin.

From the glass, or from earlier today, I’m not sure. Maybe the mixture of wounds is from both. The reminder he’s killed men today, men who may have protected me in the past, men who I’ve had dinner with, men who have fought for my father for years, settles an eerie chill in my bones as the door clicks shut and Carter’s dark eyes peer back at me from over his shoulder.

There’s a slam of fear in my chest, but it’s gone quickly as Carter turns his head forward again toward the bottle, not even bothering to look at me for more than that split second.

And then I’m given more silence.

In that moment, I almost turn and walk away. I almost run out of the room. Almost… but I don’t. I have a voice, and I’m going to use it.

“I’m not going to stay here as a prisoner. If you don’t want me, I’m leaving.” I don’t know how I manage to say the words so clearly, but I do. I hold on to that small accomplishment as Carter answers me.

“I have a right to be angry.” There’s no menace in his voice at all. Merely truth.

“You don’t have a right to treat me like I’m nothing,” I dare to respond with a harshly spoken whisper.

“Did it even cross your mind that maybe I was dead?” he asks, slowly turning to face me. His eyes are tired and his voice wretched.

“Yes,” I answer him quickly as my breathing catches in my chest, remembering all the worry the gunshots crying out in the night brought me.

“And what did that do to you?”

“It made me angry… angry that you didn’t call.” I swallow thickly, remembering how I held the phone. “I messaged you and you didn’t bother to give me any sign at all that you were all right or that you cared.” I confess a raw truth, baring more of myself to him, “And it hurt in every way possible. Every piece of me went numb thinking you were out there… that you were gone like Eli was.” It feels wrong even speaking of Eli right now. His memory should be honored and not brought up like this.

“Daniel had already told me you were all right.” I hope that truth eases something in him as I realize at least one of the reasons why I’m angry. “I knew you were all right and even if I was mad that you were ignoring me, I promise you I couldn’t have felt more relief at finding out that you were okay.” Every time I turn soft for him, I lose that hard edge that makes me his equal. I know it, yet I do it every time.

Carter’s quiet for what seems like an eternity, as if registering what I may have been feeling for the first time. Please, I pray he’ll understand. With so much against us, we need to understand each other if nothing else.

“I thought you were dead and I was ready to kill anyone who stood in my path to find you, Aria. And yet, when I got there, you didn’t…”

“I didn’t what?” I question him with a raised voice, begging him to tell me everything. With a hesitant step forward, I stop when he answers.

“You didn’t react to seeing me.”

“What did you want from me?” I ask him, honestly not knowing what he wanted. “You grabbed me like I was a child acting up.” Instinctively, my hand moves to my forearm where he ripped me from the doorway and yanked me inside of the house.

“You didn’t even ask if I was all right,” he spits at me, condemning me for not comforting him when I’d just witnessed more death firsthand than I ever have in my life.

“There was death everywhere around me, and I knew my family was out there but-“

“It’s your family you care about!”

I’m taken aback by the venom in his words. “You already knew I loved them and that I didn’t want this-”

“I would do anything for you. I would kill for you. I feel like I would die without you. Yet when I got to you… all you wanted was for me to let you go.”

“Carter, you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t.” His answer is hard and unmoving.

“I’m sorry,” I say, giving him an apology I truly mean. “I didn’t want to upset you; I’m just not okay right now… and I was even worse earlier.”

Carter’s expression softens slightly, but I can tell he’s holding on to his reservations. I know he doesn’t trust me. I’ve lost his trust completely and it makes me feel trapped and desperate, needing him to give me a chance.

“I’m sorry. Do you believe me?” My question is pleading as I take the few small steps needed to stand in front of him. I swear he can hear my heart pounding as I dare to tell him, “If I could go back, I would. I would make sure I gave you what you needed, even as I dealt with all of this… this agony inside of me.”

I’m careful as I raise a hand and cup his jaw. His five o’clock shadow is rough against my fingertips. The anger wanes from him as I rub my thumb up and down his cheek.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen, but I don’t want to lose you.” My words slip from me easily, raw, transparent and true. I mean every word of it.

Carter takes a step to his left, closer to the bed and says under his breath, “There’s no room to be sorry in this life.”

Crying is something I’m done with. I swallow down the spiked pain and embrace it rather than succumb to weakness. A second passes as Carter strips out of his shirt, unbuttoning it and then tossing it onto the floor.

He may have grabbed me earlier as if I was a defiant child walking out recklessly into a busy street, but right now, he’s the one acting like a child.

“You just want to be angry with me, don’t you?” I pause my thoughts as he removes his cotton undershirt, stained with blood too. “There’s nothing I could say or do to change your mind. You want to be pissed at me.”

He looks at me from over his shoulder, a derisive glance. “Why would I want that, little songbird?”

“Because if you aren’t angry, you’ll have to deal with everything else that’s brewing inside of you. If you aren’t a beast, then you have to be a mere mortal and deal with what you’re feeling.” I spew the words, not even conscious of them until they’ve left me.

“Ever the artist, aren’t you?” He makes light of the truth, not willing to admit how accurate my words are as he turns to me and stalks closer, wearing nothing but his pants. His hardened muscles ripple in the dim light and his dark eyes seem bright with a challenge.

“Make light of it all you want. You simply want to be angry with me.” He takes a large step forward and I take a small one back, not letting him get close enough to touch me. “And I’m fine with it, so long as you know it’s bullshit and that I’m very aware of what bullshit it is.” I spit out the last words, hating him for what he’s doing. He’s using his rage as a buffer to maintain his veneer of control. And it’s not fair. “I love you, Carter Cross. I chose you.” I have to add in the last statements, if for no other reason than to be honest with myself. Even now, I still love him. He’s ruthless; an uncaring and brutal asshole. And I’m the fool who loves him and wants him to give up a piece of his armor, knowing I’ll protect that part of him with everything I have.

“You didn’t choose me,” he insists and I start to respond, but he continues. “Choose me now, and kneel.”

My pulse quickens at the look in his eyes. I’ve seen it before, so many times. And I’m grateful for the change. Hopeful to reach the man I love through this veil of hate.

I look him in the eyes as I obey him. The blood that rushes through my veins heats with desire. There wasn’t a single part of me that hesitated.

He crouches in front of me, bringing him to eye level, and my gaze stays pinned to his. The depths of his dark irises ignite with power, with a primal need.

Take from me, Carter. Take what you need and what’s left of me will still love you.

Spearing his fingers through my hair, he makes a fist and forces my head to tilt. My breath hitches with the sudden grip, and my body bows to his. There’s barely a hint of pain; it’s merely him taking control as he crashes his lips to mine. My hands reach up instinctively, bracing either side of his jaw as he ravages me.

The kiss is everything. It’s warmth. It’s home. It’s a touch that awakens the pieces of me that have been silent and waiting for him to come back. I moan into his kiss, wishing I wasn’t in this position so I could lean into his hold, so I could take more of him and show him how desperate I am for us to go back to what we were.

But there’s no way we could ever go back.

You can never go back.

My lips feel swollen and bruised by the time he releases me, slowly loosening his grip. My chest heaves for air, and I love it. When I peek up at him, my vision hazy with lust, I see his eyes closed and his own lips parted as he takes in a steadying breath, then opens his eyes to pin me in place.

The gaze of a hunter, a predator even, stills my beating heart.

In the pale light of the early morning trickling through his curtains, the soft shadows line his jaw and make him look even more domineering.

He stands slowly, leaving me where I am and I can see his thick length as he does, pressing against his pants.

He paces in front of me, deliberating on what to do next, and I’m eager to find out.

“You’ll pay for what you did.”

“What I did?” The question is spoken with confusion. I have to blink away the desire as fear creeps in.

“Raising a gun to me. Standing in opposition to me.” He doesn’t hold any anger in his words. Only truth and certainty.

“I thought I already did.” My voice is choked as I gasp out the words.

“You lost my trust.”

I can only nod, not trusting myself to speak. I think about everything he’s done to me since the first night I laid eyes on him. How he’s deprived me, lied to me, locked me away and punished me with both pleasure and pain.

“Holding grudges hardens the heart,” I murmur to myself, but my words are for him as well.

“I don’t have a heart, songbird.” His response is quick, but so is mine.

“I don’t like it when you lie to me.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Carter’s mind is made up for tonight. But we have time. I don’t know how much, but there’s always hope. And I know my soul speaks to his. My soul is desperate to stay with his. It’s the only truth that matters. I need him.

“If you’re staying in my bed tonight, you’re going to have to satisfy me.” As Carter speaks, my gaze is drawn to his strong jaw and then to his throat. I watch as his chest rises and falls and he stands in front of me, unbuckling his belt. The sound of the leather hissing in the air as it’s pulled through the loops makes my pussy heat and clench.

“I’m staying with you,” I tell him with a mix of defiance and the greedy need to be taken by him. I can’t help but think he just needs to be touched. To be loved. To be given free rein over me and to feel how much I need him. This is what we need.

He doesn’t speak as he unzips his pants and then lets them fall to the floor with a soft thud.

His cock bobs in front of me, swollen and each vein protruding. I can practically feel his thickness pulsing inside of me already. He may need this, but I know I need it too. I need to be loved. Loved for the person I am, by this man and this man alone.

“Lie on the bed on your belly,” he commands me and I’m eager to move.

I want to make this right between us however I can.

And if this is how he chooses, to command me, defile me, degrade me in his bed, I’ll obey him without objection. Because I fucking love it too.

As I crawl up the bed, stripping as I go and tossing the clothes on the floor, I hear Carter open a bedside drawer. I’m not sure what it is he’s getting, but I don’t care. I just want him. However I can get him.

With a cheek pressed to the pillow, I lie still on the bed, naked and waiting for him to do as he pleases. I know he won’t hurt me. Not like this. His words are venomous, and his deprivation of affection is torturous, but here, like this, he won’t hurt me. I know he won’t. Whether he says it or not, a piece of him loves me more than his entirety could ever hate me.

The bed dips in time with my heart at the thought, and Carter climbs on top of me, his hard erection digging into my thigh as he leans over me. His fingers trail up my side and make my whole body shiver. He gently pulls back the hair over my ear to kiss my neck, giving me goosebumps that cause my nipples to harden and a shudder to run down my shoulders.

“You think you love me, Aria,” he whispers in a threatening tone that turns my blood to ice. “Let me show you exactly what kind of a beast I can be.”

Letting my hair fall back into place, he sits up straighter and the air around me suddenly feels colder without him there any longer.

My heartbeat quickens, but I ignore the lingering threat and welcome whatever he wants to do to me. He is mine, and I am his.

A click sounds in the air at the same time a sudden coldness hits my ass. It’s wet and slick, and it takes me a moment to realize what it is.

Carter drizzles lube over my ass and then runs his finger down to my forbidden entrance. Heat rolls through my body and I struggle to stay still, knowing what he’s going to do.

He takes his time, teasing me, stretching me, pushing himself in and out for what feels like too long. I can’t take it. I can’t stand waiting any longer, knowing what he wants and what he’s going to take from me.

“Carter,” I say and his name is a plea on my lips. My head moves from side to side as he shushes me.

He presses his head inside of me and it’s already too much. I jump away from him, my teeth clenching.

“Push back,” he commands me and then adds as he slips inside of me, “Push back right now.”

My hips tilt up slightly, although only because of his grip on them and I do what he says, but it’s so much. Too much. My body blazes with the forbidden touch.

I’m so hot. So full already. Every inch of my skin tingles as I try not to writhe underneath him. With one of his hands on my hip and the other gripping my shoulder with a bruising force, he slams all of himself inside of me in a swift, unforgiving thrust.

The pain of being stretched this way for the first time forces me to bite down on the pillow as tears flood and sting my eyes. I can feel him pulse inside of me, growing harder and larger and it’s too much. It’s all too much.

My body’s on fire, alternated with freezing cold as he moves behind me at a slow, but relentless pace.

“Carter,” I whimper his name as the overwhelming sensation begs me to move away but then, with just as much need, to push back and take more of him this way.

My clit rubs against the comforter beneath me and I moan. A single moan of utter pleasure, my body choosing it over the pain. Carter takes it as his cue to pick up his pace, ruthlessly fucking my ass and shoving my body down into the bed with each hard pump.

“Fuck,” I moan out and he responds with a low groan from deep in his chest.

My fingers dig into the comforter, my nails scratching along the threads as my head thrashes and I struggle to breathe. Pleasure and pain mix in a cocktail I’m already drunk on.

He whispers at the shell of my ear, “You’re such a dirty whore for me.” At the same time, he shoves his fingers inside of my pussy and presses his thumb to my clit.

Holy fuck!

My mouth hangs open with a silent scream of ecstasy. The pleasure ripples through my body and paralyzes me as he thrusts behind me, pistoning his hips and filling me to the point where it’s nearly too much with both his fingers and his cock. I’ve never felt like this. So full, so hot, so consumed by bliss.

He fucks me harder once my orgasm begins to wane. He doesn’t stop, not even when he sinks inside of me so deep that I feel like he’ll split me in two. I try to spin around out of instinct and push him away.

Instantly, Carter stops. Barely keeping himself inside of me, he tells me with a cold gaze, “Keep your hands down.” There’s no desire in his voice, no sense of mercy or love. Nothing but anger that I’ve dared to push him away.

It’s a shock to my system. Seeing him like that while I feel nothing but desire and love is sobering. An icy gust sweeps through me even as he changes his expression, softening it and gently pushing my shoulders back to the bed.

“It’s too much,” I whisper and although the pain is gone, the intensity of what we had has vanished.

“Lie back down,” he commands me in a way that leaves a deep fracture in my heart. I can hear it splinter as I return my cheek to the pillow.

He doesn’t touch me again; he doesn’t resume fucking me. He doesn’t allow himself to cum.

Instead, he gets up and moves away from me. I try to keep from crying as the pleasure from my orgasm withers to nothing while he enters the bathroom and flicks on the light.

I feel alone in this moment, broken and used. Utterly alone. It reminds me of the last time we were together, of him tying me up and not fucking me. Instead he left me after torturing the truth out of me.

Is that all this was? More torture?

I stay still as he wipes me down and returns to the bathroom. My chest feels hollow and it’s hard to swallow. Maybe I didn’t lose him tonight. Maybe I lost him that night when I told him I would never forgive him. Maybe I lost him the moment I picked up the gun and I’ve only just now seen it.

All I know right now is that I feel like I’ve lost him.

Refusing to cry, I bite the inside of my cheek and listen to him walk back to the bed after turning off the light. The bed creaks as he gets in beside me. He doesn’t crawl under the sheets he laid on top of me, and I don’t move from where I am. I’ll wait for him.

He loves me. I know he loves me, but why does it feel like he doesn’t at all? Why do I feel like I’m lying to myself?

“I love you,” I whisper and chance a look at him. The sun has risen and he can’t hide in the darkness. His eyes are tired and his face looks older than it ever has before.

I watch his throat bob as he lies back in the bed and says nothing. He says nothing.

More silence. And that’s the last bit I can take.

Licking my dry lips, I realize his intention was simply to hurt me, at least in that moment I turned around, the moment where it was too much. I’m quick to get up and move away from him, pushing the sheets aside.

His grip is hot, burning into me as he wraps a strong hand around my hip and pulls me into his hard, chiseled chest.

“You know I care for you.” He says the words sternly, but he doesn’t look at me. Not at first. The pounding in my chest rises to my throat until his eyes find mine, swirling with pain.

The chaos warps and twists inside of me. I’m hurting for him, a man who feels betrayed and doesn’t know what to do because every time life has given him a challenger, he’s simply murdered them, yet here I stand.

But I’m also in pain. For falling for a man so merciless and heartless as Carter.

“Don’t ever do that again,” I say, barely keeping my voice from breaking. “Don’t ever treat me like I’m nothing to you.”

“Is that a threat?” he asks, still not looking at me.

“No. Not a threat, a promise. Carter, look at me.” My voice sharpens and his eyes find mine. “If you ever do that again, I’ll leave you.” It takes everything in me to tell him that, because I know it’s true. And I’m worried it will happen. It feels so close to being inevitable.

“Do what exactly?” he asks me, daring to play as if he doesn’t know. As if he doesn’t realize how much he’s hurt me tonight.

“Fuck me just to prove how willing I am for you to have me. Walk by me as if I’m meaningless in your life.” I nearly choke on my last words, remembering how I felt in the foyer. “Treat me like I’m not worth sparing a glance.”

“First, I wanted you. I fucked you because I wanted you.” His tone is sharp until he adds, “But something… changed.”

“Something?” I ask him, but he doesn’t answer me. He keeps on speaking as if I hadn’t voiced the question at all.

“What was it like to hold a gun to my head?” he asks, and his voice is thick with emotion. “Did you think it made me feel like I meant something to you?” He doesn’t hide the pain behind a mask of cold indifference. I can hear him swallow and for the first time, he shows me everything in his expression. I’ve hurt him so deeply and I didn’t even know.

“Carter, don’t…” I start to say, inching closer to him although he stays perfectly still. “I was just trying to survive,” I say, begging him to understand. “If I could take it back-”

“You wouldn’t,” he cuts me off, and I know he’s right. Under that circumstance, I wouldn’t allow him to murder my friends and family. It’s fucked up how much that very knowledge guts me. There’s no way for me to make it out of this alive.

“You were just surviving. Maybe pretending that you mean nothing to me is a way for me to just survive.”

I’m struck by his confession, and I hate it. I hate the lives we have, and how fate has put us in each other’s path.

“Please don’t do this, Carter.” My throat is tight as despair claws its way up. “I know we’re broken, but stop this. Don’t do this again. Don’t make it worse.”

“I can’t make it better,” he rebuts.

“Tell me you care for me again,” I whisper, getting closer to him and ignoring the pain that still lingers. When I walked back into Carter’s grasp, easily letting him take me back here, I had no idea that we were so broken. How could I have been so fucking foolish to think that loving him was going to fix it all? As if it could put a stop to the war, rewrite the past, and make us invincible for whatever lies ahead.

He tells me he cares about me after a moment, but then he tells me a truth I hadn’t dared to admit I already knew until he spoke the words. “I wish I didn’t. It would all be easier if I didn’t.”