Page 47 of Tainted Serenity

No one could haveprepared me for how it finally feels to come home again after months of being homeless, alone, and isolated. The last time I had a home was thirteen years ago, before it was stripped from me like a peeler removing the skin from a potato. I once had a place I looked forward to going to when classes ended, but my mother stole that from me when she butchered my father for reasons I will never understand.

Now, as I stand in front of the darkened corridor and lean forward to get an overview of the people in front of me, that homesickness disappears.

I. Am. Home.

I want to scream those three words out for the world to hear. I want those words to tear through my throat in an agonizing manner, yet one that makes me feel ecstasy. Because if I screamed those words, he would turn around and see me standing here, and then I would finally,trulyfeel at home.

For some reason, I cannot make a sound, barely daring to breathe. I gulp down a searing inferno as I take in his muscular frame and the way his shoulders flex when he has that woman against the wall; anger radiating off of him. I open my mouth to call for him, but no words come out; instead, my heart pounds inside my chest as doubt takes over my mind, infecting it like a disease that spreads faster than it can be stopped. The doubt Arthur has planted in my mind during our months apart has turned the words now playing in my head into a black-and-white film with hazy borders.

What if Grey doesn’t want me anymore? Arthur has told me time and again that he doesn’t.

What if he has no desire to ever see me again?

All those chaotic thoughts run through my mind like a hectic waterfall with unrestrained downpours. There’s turbulence inside me.

I watch as his veiny hands find their way to her throat, squeezing it, but she doesn’t react at first. My heart sinks as hard as the Titanic did, recognizing the moment from when Grey choked me while pounding into me from behind. It was the most pleasure I had ever felt, and now those exact hands are placed around another woman’s throat. My fists clench until my nails press into my palms, creating crescents.

Then something unexpected happens, and I stare in horror as Grey squeezes her throat tighter before throwing her to the floor with quick movements, enough force to make her cry out.

My body is frozen in place, not able to do anything as I see him struggling to fight his inner demons while hovering over her. His eyes are filled with a burning inferno that threatens to explode.

“Fuck you!” She spits out, using her nails to carve into his legs, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “I didn’t do shit.”

“You did enough.”

And with that, I am falling once again, spiraling into the abyss that his voice leads me into. It’s husky and dark, with an undertone of hidden danger to it. Dizziness takes over and makes the corridor spin around me, yet all I can focus on is his voice and how it allures me, precisely like a siren waiting to capture its prey.

I am his prey, and he is my predator, as it always has been.

Tingles travel through my body, coursing through my veins and making heat gather in my core, which forces me to clench my thighs.

“You know the rules. Do not steal from him. Do not do anything that may result in punishment. You broke them.”

My back digs into the wall as I watch her stare up at Grey with defiance, still lying on the floor as his foot holds her in place by her stomach.

“You don’t have to be his puppet, you know.”

He bends down, his hand grabbing her throat before he smacks her head against the floor, fury evident in his sapphire eyes. She clenches her jaw, refusing to let out a cry.

“I know enough to know that he tried to kill your lovely girl. Too bad he fucking failed.”

A primal instinct claws at my psyche when I stare at the two of them, her cries finally falling on my ears and filling the heartless corridor.

Fear is an emotion that can make or break you—something that drives you to the point of craziness—and right now, it fuels my actions. When he pulls a glistening blade from the pocket of his suit that enchants his entire being and sits at all the right places, I am awakened from my trance. I watch the knife in his hands, his grip on it so tight that his knuckles turn a ghostly shade of white. Without a second of hesitation, I step away from my hiding spot behind the wall with a thundering heart that feels as if it will break out of my chest.

“Stop!” I shout, my voice booming through the walls.

I am not sure what I’m about to do, but I know I can’t let him kill her. At the same time, their heads turn to me, one more shocked than the other. Grey clutches the knife’s handle tighter as he takes me in, blinking rapidly as if he cannot understand what he’s seeing. I study his face, tracing it with my eyes and needing to see that he is remotely okay. The once flushed cheeks of his face have turned paler than snow, as if touched by fear.

I take another step closer, adrenaline tinged with excitement and apprehension washing over me.

“Don’t kill her,” I say, my voice loud yet quivering with untold emotions.

Grey stares at me with his lips parted, as if seeing something mythical; he cannot speak coherently. His eyes tell me stories of longing and desperation, yet a disbelief that refuses to let him see I am actually here.

With another careful step, I move forward as one would approach a dangerous animal, a precaution not to get attacked and torn to pieces. That is what Grey is, and what he has always been.

A predator.

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