Page 115 of Pretend
I chuckle at her response. My girl likes rough pain, and well…so do I.
She shifts positions, placing her leg over mine. I welcome her as she reaches over me and rests her head on my scarred chest.
“Daegan. What happened to you?” Her fingers find the slashes on my face. She trails each one with her fingertips, gently, one by one. And this time, I don’t freeze from the unpredictable touch. I welcome it.
She’s the only one who’s touched them, and it will stay that way for the rest of my life.
She doesn’t have to specify her question. I know what she’s asking about. Usually, I hate talking. I haven’t bothered trying to get to know anyone for years, consumed by my job, but after stalking Alessia that first night, I knew I was the one in trouble. I became the prey, the one who would meet their demise if I didn’t make her mine.
I’m in love with her. I’m profoundly in love, to the point that all I want to do is make her happy, make her laugh, make her feel good, and fuck her into an oblivion she never wants to escape from for the rest of her life.
“My half-brother, Dario, and I were deployed together. We were so excited. This was before I got moved to SEAL team Executioners. After my father remarried, my stepmother had two sons. Graves and Dario. I was blessed to have always had a good relationship with them. We’ve done everything together. Middle school, high school, the football team, and even went to boot camp together. We were placed on different teams, but as luck would have it, we got to go on a deployment together, our missions colliding.”
She kisses my chest and holds me tighter.
“Long story short, he stepped on an IED, and while the blast severely injured him, taking his legs, it knocked me out. A few nights later, I woke up being tortured by The Surgeon.”
“We don’t have to get into this, Daegan. I’m sorry for asking. I shouldn’t have,”
“Shh, it’s okay.” I rub her back as I continue to lose myself in the worst days of my life. I stare at the fan, watching it. It’s off, but it still has that weird effect on me. I’ve never told anyone this story…but I’m telling her.
“He sliced my face open, stabbed me in places all over my body.” She looks at the scars on my stomach. “He purposely would torture me. Make sure I wouldn’t die from the wounds he inflicted on me. Hewantedme to know why they called him the surgeon. He wanted to get as much information out of me as he could. He wanted to break me, but he never did. He would do this for hours until he got his fill and went to bed. I sat there in my blood for hours, conjuring a plan. I spent the nights alone. And so I used that to my advantage toescape.”
“How did you escape?”
“I broke my own hand, crushing my bones just enough for me to slip out of the cuffs. There was a loud, chaotic thunderstorm that night, so when I broke a window, nature swallowed the sounds away, and I was able to find help after hiking a couple of miles naked.”
She tenses as the story goes on.
“Well, you’re here now,” she murmurs lightly, pressing her lips softly on my scarred eye. The gesture elicits that unfamiliar emotion I’ve never felt, and I welcome it.
“Alessia,”
“Hm?” She hums sleepily, trailing her fingers over my tattoos, blood rushing down, and I’m getting hard again when she massages my balls and dick.
She feels good. She makes me feel good.
“I’m a liar,”
She freezes, divulging my awkward confession.
“What do you mean?” She tilts her head upwards, and I brush the curls out of her perfect face. Alessia’s wide eyes glazed with perplexed wonder. Like I just told her, the sky is falling, or dogs have wings.
The temptation to touch her always overwhelms me, and I plant a kiss on her forehead. I would kiss her all day and night if I could.
A deep chuckle of laughter escapes me, and I might send her running for the hills after this. But I don’t care. If she does end up running away from me, I’ll always find her. I’ll drag her back to the pits of hell I endure every day.
She might end up hating me in the end, but I just need her to know. I need her to know, at this moment, what her existence has done to me.
“I promised I wouldn’t fall in love with you. But I’m a goddamn liar.” I continue to run my hands through her soft hair, and her brown eyes sparkle with an emotion I can’t decipher.
Is she happy? Upset? Shocked?
“It’s been 152 days since we met, and there hasn’t been one day that you haven’t lived in my head. 152 mornings and nights where my days began with haunting thoughts and ended with you in my dreams.” She stiffens, her eyes watering. But it doesn’t stop me from spilling out.
“I…Daegan,” she pauses and breaks her gaze away from me. My heart cracks as the tune in her eyes takes a turn. “We can’t…we promised we wouldn’t fall in love with each other.” She murmurs low into my chest.
“I know…”
