Page 66 of Haunted

I can hear the anger in his voice, and I’m grateful when Aria doesn’t pick up on it.

I wipe my eyes as I lead her back to her bedroom. When she crawls into bed, I make a split-second decision and slide in beside her. I’m not using Aria as my shield because I know Theo won’t come in here. I just need a few moments to hide before I go out to the couch in the living room. There’s no way I’m getting in that bed with him again.

“Is this okay?” I ask Aria.

When she snuggles against me, I know it is. “Uh-huh,” she mumbles sleepily, already drifting back to sleep.

I wrap my arm around her and pull her small body closer tomine. Kissing the top of her head, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I lie there and think about what I should do, knowing deep inside there’s no way I can stay here, but also knowing my options are very limited.

I only mean to stay a few minutes, just enough to calm my nerves, but it’s not long before sleep claims me.

WHEN I WALK IN THE door from standing with Aria at her bus stop, something I’ve been doing since my first week living here, I spot Theo standing from the couch. His eyes carry remorse and shame. But I’m past caring about his guilt. He’s a grown man and knew what he was doing last night was wrong.

I avoid his eyes and walk to the kitchen. My hands shake as I fill a mug with the coffee Theo must have made while I was gone. Fear slides down my spine when I feel him enter the room. He scares me and being alone with him makes it worse.

Feeling his heat at my back, I stiffen and step away from him.

“I’m sorry, Jules,” he says softly.

I ignore him and scoop some sugar in my coffee, then creamer, before stirring the contents. Hearing his sigh, I turn around to face him. I lean back against the counter, cross my arms, and rest my mug on top of my arm, letting the heat warm my chilled hand.

He’s standing a few feet from me. Sensing my mood, he keeps the distance between us. I notice his hands are balled into fists at his sides and the tightening of his jaw.

“I don’t know what came over me last night. When you started moaning in your sleep, I thought you wanted me to touch you.” He keeps his voice low. “I never meant to hurt you, Jules. I neverwantedto hurt you.”

Guilt tries to claw its way inside me, because Iwasmoaning in my sleep, so to him, Iwasenjoying it. But the moment I said no, he should have stopped. It doesn’t matter if my body responded to hiswhileI was sleeping. The point is, I didn’t enjoy it when I woke up, and he continued anyway.

I wasn’t even thinking about him in my dream, and that thought brings on another round of guilt, even if I had no control over it.

“I told you to stop,” I remind him shakily.

“I know.” His head drops, and I watch as he takes deep breaths before lifting his head again. “I should have stopped when I realized you weren’t into it. My only excuse is I was overwhelmed with needing you.”

“That’s no excuse, Theo.”

“I know, damn it!” he yells, roughly running his fingers through his hair. I flinch at his outburst and press back further against the counter. “But I just… couldn’t. I wanted you so fucking badly.”

We stare at each other, his eyes flashing numerous emotions so fast I don’t have time to identify each one before they settle on irritation.

“I said I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay.” I nod and blank my expression, hoping it’ll appease him. A minute later, he gives me a nod back.

When he walks toward me, I can’t help but shrink into myself. He doesn’t stop until he’s toe to toe with me, his chest meeting my arms. He looks into my eyes, searching them.

“I promise I’ll do better, Jules. I swear that won’t ever happen again. I can wait until you’re ready.”

I’ll never be ready for him to touch me, not after he’s tried forcing himself on me twice, but I don’t tell him that. Instead, I nod again.

He leans down, and when his lips press against mine, I gripmy mug tighter. I don’t respond to the kiss, but I don’t push him away either. It worries me to think what he’ll do if I do push him away.

“I’ll see you this evening,” he murmurs against my lips. “I’m not working late today.”

I almost laugh, because he hasn’t worked late any of the days he’s claimed he has. I wonder if he really thinks I’m naïve enough to believe him.

He pulls back, turns on his heel, and walks out of the kitchen. When I hear the front door close behind him, I release the breath I’ve been holding on a painful whoosh.

I PRESS THE PHONE to my ear and wait for it to ring. My eyes close and my chin drops to my chest when it rings six times before going to voicemail. Their hatred for me is apparently still there, and I don’t know why I even try anymore.

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