Page 133 of The Dark Side

Jolie tentatively reached for his hand. She didn't want to touch him, but she couldn't let him remain in case Helina returned. She pulled Adrik through the door and locked it behind him. "What happened?"

No response. Jolie leaned down to get his eyes, but Adrik avoided her. At least she knew there was something inside him left.

Words she never thought she'd say came out of her mouth. "Who's dead, Adrik?"

Was it his father? Why did she hope it was?

"Zinof," he whispered.

Her brows knitted. "I thought you couldn't kill him."

The silence sunk into her. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. What had he done? This was irrefutable evidence that he was a murderer. A wave of nausea went through her, and she just stood there for a moment. Jolie wanted to leave, return to her parents’ house, sink into her mother's warmth, and live in mediocrity. She wasn't meant for this type of lifestyle. Everyone knew it, and they all warned her.

But there was something else there that she acknowledged.

Despite being covered in blood, it hadn't changed the way she felt about him. Jolie had, at some point, come to terms with what he did for a living. And she decided what he did wasn't who he was.

I'm choosing him,Jolie realized.

Jolie ran to the bathroom and twisted the knob for the shower. She took out towels and put one out on the floor. Then she went back to him. Jolie wanted nothing more than to care for him, to ease his pain. "You need to wash off; you'll feel better."

Adrik didn't move. He couldn't force any action as he stared at the floor. His arms were heavy, and he could still feel the clench of his fingers around the leather of his belt.

Jolie touched his wrist and pulled, guiding him into the bathroom. She observed the emptiness in his face and the lack of emotion, as if he couldn't allow himself to feel. She took hold of his shirt and lifted it above his head. His eyes came to hers at that moment. She smiled as she saw the light ignite in his eyes. "You're okay," she assured.

Under Adrik's scrutiny, Jolie removed his shoes and helped him with his pants. She squirmed and sneered at every piece covered in blood, tossing it on a towel. What had he done to make it splash on him? The question seeped into her consciousness, but she forced it away. It wasn't that she was ignoring his actions. Instead, she found herself excusing them. Like he had reasons to do what he did.

Jolie opened the shower door and directed him inside. But he wouldn't let go of her hand.

If she turned him away, Adrik would know that they were finished. He'd accept it, and though it would kill him, he'd take whatever pity was forcing her to help him.

But if she stepped into the shower with him, the small flame of hope burning inside him would become an inferno. His desire for her would devour him, and he wouldn't hold himself back.

They stood in silence as the water poured over his chest. Adrik made his position clear. He wanted her here, but he wouldn't force her to stay.

Jolie lifted her shirt over her head, and Adrik released the stress on his shoulders.

Her breasts were free, her nipples hard and perfect. Adrik didn't care how embarrassed she got under his gaze. He traveled along her tight stomach as she pushed down her pajamas and panties. She kept a hand over her privates, trying to twist out of his stare. He held out his hand and pulled her in, flushed against him.

The water rained over both of them. It was a light pink as the blood washed away. He leaned in to kiss her, but Jolie pulled back. Adrik flicked his gaze over her face, trying to figure out why until she grabbed the body wash and held it up. He didn't reach for it. He wanted her care. He needed it, so he surrendered to her ministrations, hoping she could fix what had come undone inside him.

Jolie poured the soap over him and ran her hands along every limp, scrubbing the stains away. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, enjoying her touch and compassion. Being vulnerable had become an impossibility over the years. He never trusted anyone. Not because he was afraid to but because none of them had proven faithful. Everyone he’d ever known had an agenda. They talked to him for their own gain. They spoke to him for status, money, and opportunities to improve their lives.

With Jolie, the good in her shined like the sun. He trusted himself with her. She wouldn't betray him or hurt him. She would never cheat on him or lie to him. There was nothing for her to gain. She was not selfish or self-centered.

The urge to ask her to marry him clogged the back of his throat. He knew how ridiculous it sounded to want to marry a woman he just met. And if he believed she'd say yes, he might have asked. But Jolie was more logical than he was. She'd say no only because it was expected of her.

As he watched the water drip off her lips, Adrik couldn't hold himself back any further. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, capturing them like a bucking dragonfly. She surrendered, falling into him with her hands buried in his hair. He parted from her to kiss her jaw and neck, lowering still till he took a nipple into his mouth. She moaned, holding his head to her.

Adrik turned her to the wall, pressing her against it. All the hours he spent thinking about this moment, and it was here. He was eager to devour her but knew she wasn't ready. He needed to go slow.

Adrik took her hands in one of his, pinning them above her head as she wiggled beneath his lips. His tongue flicked her nipple till she was whimpering. His other hand drifted down her side, past her hip, and landed in the center of her pelvis. She had shaved, leaving a smooth vagina for his fingers. He slid them along her lips, touching her clit, and she bucked against him, gasping, her legs widening on their own.

"Adrik," Jolie whimpered.

Adrik slipped his middle finger inside her, curling it, and she broke from his lips to moan. He clenched his teeth to keep his own moans at bay. She was tight, warm, and wet around his finger. He could only imagine what it would feel like around his cock. He watched her, her mouth open, her eyes clenched shut. Every bit of her screaming while she remained quiet, stifling moans he fiercely wanted to hear. His finger slid in and out, slowly, torturously. Adrik slipped another finger in, biting her shoulder as he did so. He was losing control, his dick pulsing against her hip.

Adrik pulled his fingers away, watching the disappointment when she opened her eyes. He let her hands go and stepped back into the water spray, running his hands through his hair, removing all the soap and any lingering droplets of blood. The aftermath of Zinof was fading, but Katia's words still clung to him like a poison in his veins. He couldn't wash it away. It wasn't betrayal, because he never trusted her since she cheated on him, but it was disappointment. How would he create a good life for Helina with a mother who tried to kill her? It would be better if it was something Helina never learned.

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