Page 35 of Deviant Illusions

My arm flies out and pain shoots through my fist as I connect with his jaw. Kane doesn’t hit me back. He throws me backwards as though I’m nothing to him. The bed catches me, and I bounce while he continues his assessment of me. Each pass of my body increases his disgust until he says, “I’m surprised you don’t havetracks considering how many fucking trains have been ran on you.”

“Fuck you.” I kick out, aiming for his dick, but he pushes my ankle to the side. Falling over me, he keeps a gap between our bodies, holding himself up with his forearms planted either side of my head. The rest of the world disappears, and I can’t stop the hurt bleeding into my voice as I beg, “I didn’t do anything.” His lips part and I continue speaking over him, “I didn’t. I’m not going to lie and say that I haven’t slept with anyone else. We both know that I did. But I never did anything with groups of people. I only ever wanted it to be you.”

He’s the person I wanted, the one I needed. He’s too fucking stupid to realize that I was stuck too. In his mind, going against Asher was easy for me even though he could never do it himself. He seems to forget I had three Asher’s with my parents’ involvement, and he only had one to battle.

He takes a deep breath and drops his head to the crook of my neck. Softly kissing my pulse point doesn’t ease him. It increases his anger, and he bites into my neck. “Always an actress.” His teeth embed into my skin and a twinge brings my shoulders up from the force.

I push against his shoulders and knock my chin into his temple. “Kane. Stop.”

He’s not hard or trying to fuck me. He’s trying to mark me to make me forget his accusations. Replace his words with pain that I’ll focus on when we can’t let this linger. I’m too fucking grown up to have some childish enmity that can be resolved with a simple conversation.

“Kane!” I punch into his ribs. “Stop and tell me. If I ever meant?—”

“No, you fucking stop.” He lifts up with his palm flat above my head and slams his other hand over my lips. “Don’t you fucking dare try to manipulate me. The person who cared aboutyou, the only one who was stupid enough to, doesn’t exist anymore. He’s in fucking limbo and it’s your fault.”

I shake my head as I gently place my hands on his chest. I can feel his erratic heartbeat. So can he. Yet he still refuses to listen to me.

“Do you know what being alone for ninety days at a time does to you?” he asks, his eyes widening like he’s afraid to blink. “How it fucks with your head, and you begin to see things? Or you find something living and that vermin becomes every-fucking-thing? Your friends, your family?” He pushes me further into the sheets and sweat beads at his hairline. “No, you don’t.”

His breathing escalates and a tremor quakes through his arm into my face as his voice lowers.

“Or when the doors finally open and light seeps through the crack. It burns and hurts to blink, this blinding light that signals pain, but you can’t look away. No. Because it’s your punishment, a punishment that isn’t fucking deserved and you take it. You take it and beg them?—”

His voice changes, like he’s someone else as he snarls, “Still begging. Pathetic Kane.”

He switches back to his normal, creepy voice. “You beg them to stop. They don’t. Then you beg them to talk to you. Just to stay a little longer so you’re not alone after they’re done.”

I slowly bring my hand to his face and cup his cheek. There’s a pause before my palm brushes his skin, but when it does, his eyes close, and he takes in a breath that rattles his lungs along with his arms. Whatever has happened has turned him into someone he’s not. Someone filled with hate and bitterness. I don’t have to be his martyr to help him. Maybe that boy I loved can come back. In some twisted, fucked up way, Kane being broken can make us both whole.

Without any pressure from me, he drops his head into the crook of my neck again. Only this time, he sinks into me,restricting my lungs with his body weight on my chest. I can’t move him because he hugs me. He wraps his arms around me and fucking hugs me like I’m keeping him here.

He flinches at my fingers lightly stroking across his shoulders. Tears burn the back of my eyes as he tightens his arms around me, muting his whimper into my neck.

“What happened to you?” I whisper, making sure my hands don’t touch him.

“Fuck you,” he spits, hugging me even tighter.

“Tell me, please…” I trail off and tilt my head to blow out a steadying breath. “Kane, please, I want to help you.”

His stubble scratches the side of my neck as he erratically shakes his head. “You can’t. No one can. Not now.”

“I can try.” Turning my head to face him, I watch the side of his jaw clench as he continues shaking his head. “This isn’t you, Kane. You’re someone who sees the best in people. You’re kind and good. So, if this is really my fault, let me try to help you.”

There’s no response other than his head shaking. I don’t think it’s an answer or refusal. It’s like he’s stuck in the movement and his shoulders shift uncomfortably.

“I loved how you always found the best in every situation,” I admit. “All those things that everyone else took for granted meant the world to you.”

“I hate everything about you,” he mumbles. “And I never fucking loved you.” He hugs me even tighter, his arms crossing under my shoulders and contorting my body as he spits out his hate. “No one could love someone as vindictive and fucking empty as you. The worst thing you ever did was come into my life. You should have stayed in the lake house with Asher, both of you burning together for eternity like you fucking deserved.”

I curl my hands into fists to stop the urge to touch him from taking over as I say over his bullshit, “You loved me.”

The iron bands of his arms leave as he abruptly stands. He looks down at me, swaying on his feet. It’s harder to breathe now that his weight isn’t blanketing me.

“And just like I am now,” he says, “that shit wasn’t real. No one will ever love you, Delilah. Not your parents, not your sisters, and not fucking me. I will only be free when you’re lowered into the ground. When there’s mud covering you and you’re rotting, then I’ll be able to live.”

He stumbles as he turns and leaves the room. The door slides open, followed by a quietbeep, but I don’t move. Whatever has happened to him isn’t my fucking fault, yet I can’t stop my emotions from drowning me, numbing me, and it’s like I’m back with my bastard parents.

They would do the same thing—blame me for shit and tell me how I ruined everything without ever telling me why. The few visits they made to the hospital were filled with accusations, and they would only smile when I was confused. The deeper my frustration at not knowing, the higher their smiles curved.

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