Page 46 of Addicted Lies

“Because I didn’t think you could handle it,” he confesses.

Ordinarily, I might be mad by the assumption, but I’m too exhausted to fight him. Also, he’s not entirely wrong. I might’ve been intimidated by his demand. I mean, hurting him isn’t exactly something I thought I’d be signing up for. But watching the way he gets off on it? The way the control switches between us fluidly in the bedroom? I like it. A lot.

“So why now?” I ask.

He shrugs as he caresses my collarbone with the backs of his fingers. The shirt I was wearing has long since been discarded, thrown to the floor among the mess of his own wet clothes. “Because you needed to see the real me. Well, part of it, at least. To be honest, I thought you might run the other way.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask, too afraid to reach for him because I feel like it might scare him away. Ford and I don’t usually do deep talks, but there are so many things about this man that remain a mystery, and I want to know. I want him to let me in, little by little.

He watches me for some time, the space between us seeming to grow wider and wider, and I think it’ll swallow me whole before he finally answers. “Because I’m not good for you, Billie. I thought you seeing this side of me might scare you, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I hoped that it would. I can’t offer you more than this- my body. This might be exciting for you, but I have no self-control when it comes to you, and I’m scared I’ll do something reckless one day because of it.”

I bring my hand up to cover his, and his nostrils flare, reacting to the tender touch. I often feel that Ford struggles when I bring any level of softness between us that might be considered normal for others, especially when we kiss.

My eyebrows furrow, and I stare at him, my gaze dipping to the words tattooed on his throat.Bad to the bone. I can’t help but wonder if it’s some kind of self-branding. Ford has always had a quiet confidence and self-assurance about him, but it’s moments like this that I see him waver as if he’s unsure how to act or what to say around me. Like I’m some little princess who has to be protected… from him.

“I feel the same, you know. I can’t keep my hands off you, either. Is that so bad?” I ask quietly. This is the first time he’s let me see the way his mind works.

“It’s different.”

“How?” I push, and his jaw tics like he doesn’t like being pressed. I’m certain he’ll get up and leave, but instead, he averts his gaze.

“Because I have issues with addiction,” he confesses.

My mouth opens and closes. Did I hear him right? “As in, you’re using drugs?”

“No.” He shakes his head and sits upright.

I follow suit, putting my hand on his leg to stop him from leaving. “Explain it to me.”

He looks away as if ashamed, and it’s the most vulnerable I’ve seen this powerful man. Sitting naked in front of me, tempted to tell me tidbits of the life he lives that I’ve never known.

“Not anymore,” he admits. “My biological mother was addicted to crack. She overdosed when we were twelve, so it was just me and Hawke. We stole, cheated, and lied in order to survive. And when we started filling out in size, we’d physically hurt people. We were no better than animals.” I try not to react as if any small movement might interfere with every shocking thing he’s telling me.

“I was fourteen when I became addicted, swapping out my reality for anything that could numb it. It was Anya and River who helped me get clean. But the impulses are still the same when I become fixated on something. I relapsed once. Now I use other methods to get the high I crave.”

With sudden clarity I understand why he doesn’t drink. Why he’s always on the phone. His need for sugar.

“How did you come to live with Anya and River?” I ask, bewildered, trying to process everything.

He smirks as he recalls the memory. “It was me who convinced Hawke to break into their home one night when we were fifteen. And my stupid miscalculation almost cost us our lives. But they saw something in us. Took us in, cared for us, and sharpened our fangs. I’ll forever be grateful to them, and to Eli, for letting us be who we are without judgment and for giving us a purpose.”

“You mean killing?” I clarify.

The energy around him shifts and crackles like wild fire, the man gone, nothing but a beast now. “Precisely.”

The hairs on my arms raise, and I swallow hard.

I’ve always known Ford isn’t a normal man. But where my brother and father try to hide their savage nature from me, Ford comes entirely unfiltered. And it is terrifying. This man is powerful, with the grace of a predator I’m not even sure he’s aware of.

“What does the tattoo on your throat mean?” I ask because I feel like there’s more to it.

He stares into my soul, and it makes me shift uncomfortably. As if realizing he’s doing it, he blinks a few times and shifts.

“It was the second time I relapsed. I was clean for a few months, then slipped into old patterns. I expected Anya and River to discard me, but they didn’t. My father found me high as fuck, pummeling my dealer’s ass. The guy had picked a fight with me, and I couldn’t stop. I don’t think he would’ve cared if I killed him that day, but he stopped me. It was after that he got me the tattoo gun, to help me focus on something else. The first tattoo I gave myself was this. As a reminder of my roots.”

I don’t like that tattoo and its purpose there. But I don’t voice that. I crawl over him and straddle his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as if rewarding him for opening up to me. But it’s also because I feel like I need to reassure him.

The fucker doesn’t even flinch. Like everything he just told me happened to someone else. I know men like him don’t feel too deeply or think too much about their emotions or traumas, but I think that’s precisely why it’s so sad. Because he’ll never truly understand that he deserves so much more. But I could never say that to him. I don’t speak a language he can relate to because fundamentally, I’m different. I only hover around the edges of his world. That’s never been more apparent than it is right now. I always thought Ford was a vault, but this runs far deeper then I realized.

---