Page 16 of King: Darker Than Romance

“Of course, you fucking don’t. That would be—”

Whatever else I was about to say died in my throat when she stood from the tub. Every part of her decadent body was covered in bruises and old scars that hadn’t been there four years earlier.

An uncomfortable amount of weight fell, then settled in my chest, making my heart beat funny. Anger boiled in my blood. It was obvious her husband beat her brutally and often. I could not believe Ruth had made it sound as if Eden were asking for it or that her husband and her arguments amounted to a slap here or push there. I could make out knuckle prints in her caramel skin. What she had been going through hit me right in the core.

She raised her arms and posed, meeting my eyes head-on.

“Does it look like I want to go back to my husband?” Her words were meant to antagonize me.

“What-what did he do to you?” My throat clogged with emotion and hatred. I would kill that motherfucker.

She laughed and said, “No more than you did.”

My heart sped up. the accusation incensed me. To have her compare me to him. I wasn’t a saint, by no means, but I hadn’t physically abused her.

“I never beat you, Eden.”

She sighed then lazily stretched towards heaven before stepping out of the tub and walking my way with a tired expression on her face. She stopped at my side and looked up at me.

“No. You never beat me. You did everything else. You wrecked me, exactly how you said you would,” she said. Then she walked past me and out of the bathroom, leaving me behind with my thoughts.

Eden: Wild Times

Present

“I wrecked you. Really, Eden?”

It took him only thirty minutes to follow me from the bathroom. I thought I at least had a few hours. I just knew he would go brood in a corner somewhere and leave me the fuck alone after I told him my truth. But it seemed he was determined to drive me crazy. First, he wouldn’t let me take a bath in fucking peace. Now he wouldn’t let me sleep.

“So, it was all me. You did nothing?”

Here we go with this perpetual victim bullshit.

“What did I do to wreck you, Eden? Tell me. Give me an example, one where we weren’t mutually to blame?”

He suddenly wanted to talk. “Fine.”

I sat up in my bed and made sure I kept the sheet wrapped around me since I was nude underneath the covers. I turned in the direction of his voice. He was sitting in the soft armchair next to the window with his head down, looking lost.

“There really are too many to count.” He frowned and the part of me that always wanted to please King reared her ugly fucking head. “But we had good times.” I volunteered, because he really looked like he needed me to. But when I tried to think of any of the good between us that didn’t included fucking, it was hard.

“Those five days we spent locked away in your hotel. You remember those?” I asked

That was the first time we’d actually talked and had fun together without sneaking around. But even then, the beginning and end of those five days had been disastrous.

Eden: Those Five Days.

Past

“It’s final, Eden.” I glared down at Momma with my fists curled at my side. My whole body shook. I wanted to punch something. No, I wanted to punch her. I hated her. She was so fucking infuriating.

I left her sitting on the couch. I slammed into the kitchen. I went straight to the island, picked up the biggest knife from the butcher block. For a minute I just stared at it, thinking about going back into the living room to slit her fucking throat. She was determined to ruin my life, wouldn’t taking hers be fair? But as quick as the thought came it left. I dropped the knife. I ran my hand down my face and took a deep breath to calm myself.

“This can’t be my life.” I groaned while blinking away tears.

Out of my peripheral, I glimpsed someone. Startled, a sharp gasp forced its way from my throat. Turning, I found King staring at me intently. I hadn’t seen him in a week. Not since he’d forced me to go to the movies with him, claiming he wanted to have an actual date. Which ended up being code for us fucking in the theatre.

He was sitting, leaned back into one of the kitchen chairs, watching me. He was wearing an expensive charcoal grey suit and his glasses were back. He looked like a shady businessman. I wondered why he was dressed up. I wanted to ask him where he had been. I had been wondering about that a lot lately. Where did he go when he left for days and weeks at a time?

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