Page 85 of Twisted Cage

His offer takes me by surprise considering I’m not technically old enough to drink, but then, once you cross the lines we have, does it matter? I’ve ended a life, I’ll be ending more, and I’m debating the legality of drinking in my head.

God, I might really be losing it.

But no. No, I don’t want one. I want to soak in a tub until I can walk without looking like I’ve been railed by a savage giant. Then I want to sleep for a week, maybe two. I want to feel normal again.

Whatever normal is.

More than anything, after the way Konstantin touches me, I want to forget. I want to forget what my father said. I want to believe when Konstantin tells me his feelings have nothing to do with my mother, so I can stop sifting through memories. Moments in time, including both of them, searching for a clue in the grainy flashbacks, looking for signs he’s only telling me what I want to hear.

What he knows he needs to say to win.

Relegating me to the stupid, gullible girl I told him was dead.

My biggest fear is she’s not. I’m terrified she’s buried deep inside, so isolated and lonely, she’s ready to settle for whatever affection is tossed her way. She’s pretending she can’t see the glaring truth in front of her so she can live in moments fulfilling fantasies she thought only lived in a teenage girl’s journal.

I live in a world where men lie to suit their means. And though I’ve never known Konstantin to lie to me, is it really possible he’s the only man in my life who hasn’t?

So I keep searching. Hoping to find some convincing piece of evidence to tell me whether I let him in or let him go.

“Are you okay if I go get cleaned up and get some sleep?”

Faith smiles down at Alex and feathers a kiss over his silky golden-brown hair. “Sure… I’ll be fine. Actually, Dimitri brought us cell phones. Yours is charging on your nightstand. He programmed our numbers already, so if I need you, I’ll call.”

“Thank you,” I say, smiling over Faith’s head at the man himself who keeps smiling down at Lexi.

“You’re welcome. I figured Faith’s got her hands full and sometimes”—his gaze finds Faith and lingers there—“it might not be so easy to go get you, so this should help.”

“It will, and I appreciate it.” I slide a knowing look at Faith and lean in so only she can hear me. “You have some explaining to do.”

“There’s nothing to explain. He’s nice. We’re friends.” She says the words, but she’s taken a keen interest in Alex’s little fingers so she doesn’t have to look me in the eye.

“He is nice. He’s also hot. And I can practically hear your ovaries crying out when you watch him with Lexi.”

She peeks over at him with a shy smile, and he winks at her. “We have very different lives.”

“You get to choose whatever life you want now. Just be sure you can live with the decision you make.” I give her a hug, missing our nights, whispering in our shared room, rocking babies and dreaming big dreams. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

Just turn around and go to bed. Don’t look for him.

But my heart won’t listen to my head. I meet his eyes and I’m right back in that cemetery. He’s curled over me, driving into me, tormenting me, and even in our rush, exploring my body, taking the time to learn how to pleasure me. The picture is distinct, like I can reach out and touch his face again and trace over the stubble on his chin.

The sound of my voice as I asked him who he belongs to is so alive and powerful in my mind. And all I can hear is his answer playing again and again and again.

You.

One word, his complete surrender, brought me the closest I’ve come to caving. But it was more than the word. It was the agony on his face, as if he feared me slipping away… for good this time.

The same expression on his face right now, right before I turn and walk away.

I force my feet to move until I’m in my room, the door quietly clicking behind me. Slumping against the cool wood, I listen for the faint sounds of them in the living room, but only silence greets me.

I drag off my heels and vow to never wear heels quite that high again. Not with more car chases in my future. Sinking my feet into the plush carpet, I push away from the door, my eyes landing on the Sharpie still lying where Konstantin left it.

He was stealth, I’ll give him that.

Blinking down at the marker, I bite my lip. How did he know it was in there? Why was it in there? Along with other personal items that you’d see in someone’s room, not their guest room.

The pieces start to come together.

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