Page 41 of Vulnerate

He fucked me in broad daylight, left me there leaning against a wall exposed, and now he thinks he has any fucking right to question me on shit.

His calloused, inked fingers wrap around my neck and his sleeve rustles against something on his forearm. He walks us further inside and kicks the door closed. His brows come together, and he softens at the sight of my tears queueing up again.

“What happened, khudozhnik moya?”

I hate that name; I still don’t know what it means but it haunts me. It’s what he always calls me in my dreams. I relax, allowing myself the comfort and losing the battle with my emotions at the thought of a child’s pain.

“Carly was pregnant, and I can’t find anything about her kid, I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Any softness disappears instantly. It’s replaced with nothing but hellfire, the person in front of me isn’t someone I recognize. It’s not anger. Valentin is not just dark, there’s not a word to describe the threatening look in his eyes. Disgust contorts his features and venom flows from his voice box. “You’re a good fucking actress, you nearly had me fooled.”

My head is going to explode with all the new information and his misplaced hate. Wiping my face with my sleeves, my bottom lip wobbles as a sob chokes me. “What did I do to you?”

He’s being cruel and aiming to hurt me in the two instances he’s been in front of me. There’s nothing I could have done that would justify it, leaving isn’t a good enough excuse.

Squeezing my neck, he moves closer and presses his lips to my cheek. He doesn’t kiss me. He’s tasting my tears the fucking freak. The anger doesn’t leave, and he fogs everything even more with the cryptic bullshit.

“Your guilt doesn’t mean shit to me, not when I’ve been reading the proof for fucking years. You’re a lying, twisted bitch.”

My body sways as he pushes me back and drops his hold on my neck before turning to leave.Stopping him before he can reach the door, I grab his arm rushing out, “What proof do you have? I didn’t do shit to you.”

I should let him go but the girl who was in love with him and forgave everything he did without him acknowledging it is begging me not to. She’s the stupid one because that boy doesn’t exist anymore. The man he’s become doesn’t temper himself as he turns towards me, stepping forward until his shoes touch my toes. I look up, waiting for his bullshit to come out and straighten my spine. My bravery is rooted in childhood memories that are set aflame with each syllable as he snarls, “You said my son would be better off dead!”

His son?

Valentin doesn’t have a son.

Or any child?

Brutal satisfaction faces off against my confusion and Val pulls an old phone out of his pocket. I recognize it as Carly’s from years ago, the last time I saw her it was held at her ear as she threatened to call someone to kill our uncle. Tapping on the screen, he turns it to face me as he begins reading the messages that I never sent, and he takes a step closer with each one.

“I’ve been in their house, they’ll kill him.”

I take a step back, so he doesn’t step on me.

“You should just get rid of it.”

My temples are throbbing.

“It will only end up dead anyway.”

The pulsing moves behind my eyes.

“He’s nothing to me.”

Bile moves up my throat.

“It’s going to be rotten, like it’s father.”

Losing the battle with my stomach, I fold in half emptying the contents beside me. I wouldn’t speak about anyone like that, especially not my family or an innocent child. Footsteps move further away, and the faucet runs before they come back. My hair moved away from my face and a cold glass is pressed against my hand.

“Take small sips,” he says softly.

I hate him. But I accept it without looking at him as my hand trembles bringing it to my lips.

The messages were on Carly’s phone.

His son.

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