Page 112 of Hard Knot

Knew that I wished to be found by her.

Claimed by her…

Yet, the truth hurts when you’re woven in contracts so thick and sealed with blood that there’s no way out. You have to succumb to reality, and reap the rewards…or in my case, the ultimate consequences of childish agreements in hopes of power and freedom.

Every moment of silence, every cold dismissal, has been a desperate attempt to maintain control and encourage the continued path I’m destined to walk upon.

Alone…

But how the Universe enjoys tempting me.

The thought of sharing her — with Morrison, Carter, Felix…or anyone else for that matter — makes something dark and possessive rear up inside me, threatening to shatter what little restraint I have left.

The shameful thing is, I have no right to get access to her. I’ve done nothing to prove how important she could be to me if I didn’t have so many odds against me.

She doesn’t understand.

Wouldn’t understand.

No one would get it…

I can’t trust anyone with the depths of my secret.

The hardship of the burden I’ve carried on my shoulders since my Father threw our Empire under the bus for slick pussy and fake multi-million dollar contracts.

A soft moan filters through the door, the sound at first igniting waves of jealousy. I clench my fist, only for my ears to pick up Morrison's low murmur of concern.

It’s the tone that makes me realize he’s worried and not kissing her in some way, but it still doesn’t stop me from wanting to get out of here.

What am I even doing here? I’m being fucking stupid.

My fingers curl into fists at my sides as I push off the wall, forcing myself to walk away before I do something unforgivable.

Like break down the door.

Like claim what was never meant to be mine.

Like admit that maybe, I've been lying to myself all along.

All of this is foolish because nothing can be altered. There’s no peace for the wicked, even if we’re thrown into the wild to defend ourselves with no weaponry.

Some things are better left in darkness, and my Father’s sins are exactly that.

They’re my cross to bear, and by the time everyone realizes the threads of uncertainty and madness, it’ll be far too late.

My actions would have spoken louder than any whispers I could dare let slip through the cracks, and once anyone pieces it together, I’ll be long gone.

At least, they would be alive, breathing, and no longer a target of blackmail and further scrutiny. I’d go to the grave alone, and that would be the best outcome after years of threats and nightmares of losing someone I loved all over again.

Besides, I've always been more comfortable in the shadows anyway.

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue as I prepare to stride away from this place and leave Abercrombie in the arms of the man who will devote his soul to see her succeed in life.

Someone else gets to be her savior.

While I remain the villain in this story.

Just as it should be.

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