Page 108 of Can You Take It?

I start rummaging through the drawers and my hand grazes the lighter. I pick it up, feeling the weight of it in my palm. Ifind a pack of candles shoved in the back of a drawer, dusty and unused. Fitting. I set it on the counter, staring at it for a moment.

I twist the lighter in my hand, my thumb pressing down on the switch. I bring it to the wick and watch the fire spread, licking the darkness away.

“It hurts, it burns—please stop!”

I set the candle down and reach for another one, lighting it with the same careful precision. The heat pricks at my fingers.

“I’ll be good, I promise! Just make it stop!”

My fingers tremble. I don’t flinch this time. I don’t feel anything…or at least I tell myself I don’t. Another candle finds its place on the windowsill, the flame casting thin shadows that cling to the walls like ghosts.

“See? This is what happens when you don’t listen. It’s your fault, you know. If you just kept quiet, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I wait, just a little longer, for one to finally slip free, to feel that faint release. But it doesn’t come. It never comes.

“Beg for it to stop. Say you’re sorry.”

I lean closer to the flame, the heat warming my face, almost inviting me to touch it, to see if it would still burn the same way it did back then. My fingers twitch, hovering just above the light, but I don’t move. I can’t. The pain is supposed to make it better, isn’t it? The suffering is supposed to cleanse me, make me stronger. But it never does. It just hurts.

“Can you take it?”

“No.”

“Good. Maybe now you’ll learn.”

Screw this. I’d rather throw myself in the shower, drown out the voices in my head with the sound of water hitting the tiles. At least in there, I can avoid the loneliness.

The water does fuck all to wash away the heavy weight on my shoulders. It’s like I’m trying to scrub away the memories, but they cling to me like a stubborn stain.

As I’m standing there, feeling the hot water soak into my skin, I sense something off. Like a sixth sense tingling at the back of my neck. It’s that feeling you get when you know shit’s about to hit the fan. I shake it off, blaming it on the paranoia that comes with Victor’s games.

But then I hear a crash, and my senses go on high alert.

I wrap the towel around me. The bathroom feels different now so I take a step out and scan the room. Nothing. I walk down the stairs, expecting to find an intruder or a robber, but the place is dead silent.

My gut tells me this is all kinds of wrong, and I’m not one to sit around like a sitting duck. So, I head to the kitchen and grab a knife. I hate that it’s almost become an instinct, but I’d rather be armed and ready. Who knows what the hell’s lurking around?

I sense someone behind me. My heart races, and I whirl around, ready to go all stabby on their ass. But before I can unleash my inner badass, the assailant catches my hand, and I stumble. Before I hit the ground, strong arms steady me.

I look up, half expecting some psycho, but it’s Richard. I’m torn between relief and the urge to punch him in the face.

He glances around, taking in the sight of my house. “You expecting company, or do you always keep a knife handy for decoration?”

I try to stammer something, but I can’t because my mind is busy doing somersaults between anger and relief, and I don’t trust myself to form a coherent sentence. He’s so close, and all I can think about is how badly I want him inside me. Again.

Richard takes the knife from my hand, and for a second, our fingers brush.

“Funny how you and your team had me in for breaking and entering when you’re doing the same thing,” I finally manage to say.

Richard smirks, placing the knife on the table. “I used a key.”

I scoff, crossing my arms. “A key you had no business keeping.”

He leans against the kitchen counter, the casual arrogance radiating off him. “Details, baby. Just checking in on you.”

“Checking in?” I repeat. “So, breaking into people’s homes is your way of showing concern now?”

He chuckles. “Learned from the best. You should feel honored.”

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