Page 84 of Fragile Facade
Because I’ve decided I don’t want to live without him.
I think I can, but I don’t want to. He suits my needs, and my needs are most important.
Before Axel wakes him up for the next portion of testing, I press my lips to his forehead, giving him a small kiss. “Just in case,” I say to his unconscious mind.
* * *
I duckwhen a glass bottle flies by my head and smashes against the brick wall outside the asylum. I don’t even care that he almost took off my head. To see him so alive and pissed off… fuck yeah, he’s making my cock hard. I love him like this, pissed off and unremorseful about it.
“How fucking dare you!” he screams, stalking closer to me with menacing steps and a blue fire in his eyes that guarantees to burn. “It’s my fucking head! My brain!”
I snort at his delusions. What part of himself does he still think he owns? The prick is mine, and the sooner he comes to terms with that, the easier it will be. Though he’s never been one to take the easy path, and I do love a challenge, so he can resist it all he wants. He’ll know eventually, and when he figures it out, it’ll be a battle to go down in history.
The weather isn’t on my side tonight. It’s stormy and windy, adding strength to Soren’s anger and amplifying his power. I don’t care, though, because the calling card he left me caused me emotional discomfort all day, and I didn’t appreciate that.
Last night, he told me I scared him. This morning, on the back of the card, he told me he’s still scared.
Make me unafraid. Show me you’re still you.
I will gladly remind him who I am, and I’ll do it ruthlessly like I always do. I don’t give a single fuck that he’s pissed about the brain mapping, and I care even less that he’s butthurt over being knocked out and studied against his will. What I do care about is keeping him on the living side of his curse, and if he’s afraid, he’s the wrong kind of unstable. We can’t be having that.
Simply to entice another angry outburst out of him, I give him my charming smile, the one I use on everyone but him. His face goes red, and to be honest, I kind of like red on him now. When the pressure inside him gets to a boiling point, he whips another abandoned bottle at me, and I barely shift in time to avoid it. As it’s shattering, he kicks over more bottles on his way to me.
Come here, sweetheart!
I laugh aloud as his body slams into mine, wincing a second later when we make contact with the brick wall. My burned back screams, but not as loud as he does. Right in my damn face, loud and unhinged.
“You had no fucking right, Riot!”
Riot.Back to having his shields up then—or maybe he sees that I’m back to donning my masks. He slams me harder, hands coming up to wrap around my throat, but he doesn’t squeeze. He holds me right where he wants me, wedged between him and the asylum, stepping on broken bottles left by teens who snuck out here to get wasted. His eyes glare into mine, so much fury coming at me through his gaze, but there’s something else hiding behind it. Something unsure, like he wants to know what the scans showed but he can’t make himself ask.
“What makes you think I give a damn about rights?” I open my mouth to ease the tension on my teeth implants. He looks at my parted lips for a second, tempted by whatever he sees there. A memory? Blood? I don’t know. “I’ve never asked your permission for anything before, why should I start now?”
A bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, immediately followed by a crack of thunder. The storm is right on top of us, maybe fuelled by Soren’s mood. As he snarls at me, body coiled and holding me at his mercy, he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. The venom he wants to spew disintegrates on his tongue, and against his will, he asks, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why’d you do it?”
Because I want to know how to protect him from himself, but I don’t know how to say that without making it seem like I care about him more than he cares about me. Because I understand what Krypt felt when he found out about Remi’s mind, and those scars all over his body make a lot of sense now. Soren isn’t the type to cut or take a pill, but he’ll find his way to death eventually, and I’ve never felt so pathetic because I can’t predict how. I can’t protect him from what I don’t understand, so I’ll protect him from himself. I’ll manipulate him for my own benefit, and maybe someday, it’ll benefit him, too.
“The Sauder Curse isn’t such a curse, is it? Just a fucked-up signal in the brain.” I watch him listen, rapt attention warring with his desire to shut me up. Desire. Despair. Death. It’s such a circular pattern for him. “I wanted to know how fucked up you are, sweetheart.”
He snaps his teeth at me, and I see self-loathing etch into his features. “And?”
“What’s it matter? You don’t fear the curse anyway, right?”
“Riot.”
“Hmm?” I tilt my head in his grip.
“Killian,” he amends, the storm taking a recess as his anger pauses to let curiosity win out. “Tell me. I have a right to know since it’s my fucking brain.”
Sure he does, but I told him before that rights mean nothing to me. Breaking his hold on my throat, I spin us until his back hits the wall. Bracing him between my arms, I get right in his face.
“Want me to kill your cousin? End the curse with a murder and stop the suicide train?” I lean down, listening to him suck in a breath as I run my nose along the side of his neck. “We could do it together. If we murder a Sauder male, we’ll protect your brother, which protects my brother. It’s a win-win, and we’re selfish enough to do it.”
His hands grip my shoulders, fingers digging into my flesh to stop the shakes. “It won’t help if it’s all lies anyway.”
