Page 55 of Vengeful Rotten Casualties

“Yes.” I lean forward and kiss her brow. She twitches again. I move down to her eyelid and kiss it as well. Then the other.

“No.” Her voice is ragged. Torn. Hollow.

“Yes,” I repeat the word as I kiss her nose and then hover over her lips, waiting. They part.

I know she can feel the heat of my mouth. Sense how close I am. She leans forward. I back away, smiling. She can’t manipulate me that easily. Not now. Her lashes slowly lift. Brown eyes are some of the most common in the world, but there’s nothing common or conventional about Micki’s eyes. They’re filled with every variable of the shade—from golden brown to a brown so dark it’s almost black. They’re beautiful. These very eyes will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

“It hurts when someone uses something that you want against you,” I whisper against her, right on the cusp of her lips touching mine. “You wanted ownership, just not his. Not theirs.” I slip my hands back into her hair once more. She tips her head back. Staring up at me, unspeaking. “You want mine. You want me to possess you.” She doesn’t agree, but she also doesn’t deny it.

“You want ownership, Micki?” I prompt her. “I can give you that. I can give you everything you want, everything you need. But there are conditions to my help. Conditions to this relationship—and before you even try to deny it, that’s exactly what we’re in. You and I, we’re not one of those couples who dance around each other. I don’t give a fuck what other people our age do. We’re not keeping our options open. We’re not seeing where shit goes. We’re in it and we always have been. I’m staking my claim, Micki, and you can stake yours.”

She parts her lips and swallows back a breath. I pause, waiting for her. “I didn’t want to do it,” she admits. “It was just the easiest way to get him into place.”

I nod. “I know.” I don’t fucking like it. I’ll never fucking accept it. But I do realize why she did it. “But never again.” Her breath stops and she swallows, her eyes darting all over my face. “Do you understand?” I ask, tightening my grip in her hair, pulling at the roots of the strands there. Her lips part and she arches up onto her toes. “Never again will you put yourself in that position. Tell me you understand.” I press myself into her, letting her feel me—how fucking hard I am. Solid. I’m her fucking rock. Forever. “Say it.”

She nods jerkily. “I-I do.”

That’s all it takes. Two simple words. Her admittance. This assurance. I dive down and drive my tongue between her lips. I kiss her like I’ve wanted to all fucking night. Seeing her in the stands—even knowing what she was really doing there—made me wonder what it would be like had we both been normal kids. Normal college students. Calling her my girlfriend feels far too simplistic for what she is.

My obsession.

My soul.

My whole fucking being needs her to exist.

Micki moans into my kiss, opening her mouth further as I devour her. When I finally pull back, her whole body leans forward, as if she can’t be without me.

“I’m going to erase every fucking reminder of that bastard from your flesh,” I warn her.

Her eyes open again and she pants, staring at me with wide eyes. I release her and take a step back. “You’re going to tell me everything he ever did to you. Down to the last detail.” Her face pales and when she starts to shake her head, I reach out and pinch her chin between my thumb and forefinger, stopping her. “Yes,” I say. “Everything. I don’t want you to hide a damn thing from me. Not anymore. Consider it another consequence.”

“Luc … it’s not … pretty. It’s humiliating.”

“Itwashumiliating,” I agree. “But it won’t be anymore because from now on, you’re not going to remember anything he ever did to you. All you’ll remember is me. What I do. Andrew Bennington is gone and I’m so fucking proud of you for that, but we’re not going to leave his mark on you. Not even in your mind.”

“I don’t know if Icanforget.” No doubt she’s probably tried, but that was when she was alone. When she didn’t have me.

“Do you trust me?” I ask.

She frowns. “What?”

“It’s a simple question, Micki. Do you trust me?”

The seconds it takes for her to answer are some of the longest of my life, but finally, she graces me with the most important words I’ve ever heard in my life, and whether she realizes it or not, they’ve sealed the deal for me. There’s no going back now.

“I do.” She nods. “I trust you, Luc.”

23

MICKI

It’s an illusion,Micki. That’s all he offers. Illusions and pleasant memories.

The words are vicious reminders. Ugly little bites into my mind. Doubts telling me that I need to remember why I came back. I’ve lost the narrative. Slipped back into an old pattern because Luc is more than just a man; he’s the only man I’ve ever truly wanted. The one I sold my soul for. I let myself forget the power he wields over me and tonight he realized that I’m not the old Micki he once knew so well. I’m not as easily manipulated. Not as easily controlled. I’m wild, feral, and sick of bowing down to each and every man who comes along and demands my subservience.

It’s hard, though, not to want to give in to him. Because he’s right. Andrew Bennington did detestable things to me—not because the actions of fucking me, beating me, and choking me were detestable, but becausehewas the one doing it and not someone I chose. It was never my choice.

The need to run is a powerful instinct inside of me. Welling up from somewhere deep down and driving my thoughts.Run away. Flee. Fight. Don’t let him inside. All he’ll do is hurt you like they all have. Like they always have.

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