Page 90 of Thorns of Love
“I gave you a warning,” he grumbled, his voice low.
My eyes widened. “What warning? You left me in the dark, stumbling through some clues that made no fucking sense,” I accused.
“Memento Mori,” he uttered in Latin.
“Remember you must die,” I translated in English, my heart cracking all over again. This time not for him, but for me. For the betrayal. For our tragedy.
“It’s too late, Tatiana,” he repeated softly.
I shook my head. It couldn’t be too late. I had a future, my babies to think about. But I didn’t want to tell him about my pregnancy. I didn’t know if it’d set him off further or make him spare me.
“No, it’s never too late,” I rasped.
“My body is ruined, pipsqueak,” he murmured, giving me a glimpse of the old Adrian. He misunderstood my comment thinking I wanted another chance with him. I didn’t. But I didn’t correct him. He stood up and started to remove his clothes. His jacket slid off his broad shoulders.
I tensed. What was he doing? I wouldn’t sleep with him. The time for that has well passed.
He pulled his shirt over his head and my gasp filled the shitty cargo airplane. Adrian’s body was scarred. The skin on his back was all raw red sandpaper. It was the only way I could describe it. An ugly patch on his shoulder where the bullet must have pierced through him.
“Adrian,” I whimpered. My hands were still bound so I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t hug him nor comfort him although I was sure he needed it. “D-does it hurt?”
He slid his shirt back on. “No, I lost most of the feeling on my back. It was a blessing really.”
I gulped. What could I possibly say to make this better?
“Maybe we could take you to see a doctor,” I murmured. “Isabella knows some excellent ones. I’m sure she–”
“I’ve crossed the line,” he cut me off. “Your brothers are no longer part of my circle. They’ll kill me the moment they can. There’s no coming back. Not from this.”
“No, no,” I muttered, shaking my head. I didn’t care about his scars, his past. “We can fix it. Just talk to Illias.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Wrong way to appeal to him because his expression darkened and I could see him shut down his walls.
“Always so quick to forgive,” he grumbled, almost as if he hated that. He wanted me to hate him. It’d make it easier for him to follow through with his plan. Whatever it was. Although I had a good idea that it ended with me dead. “Do you know I fucked with you the whole time you stayed at the penthouse? Konstantin thinks he protected you, but I hacked into his surveillance, played audio to freak you out. I even bypassed his men. Illias is not as good as he thinks he is.”
I stilled, staring at him with wide eyes. Was that hate in his eyes?
“And then you rushed into Konstantin arms,” he added in a disgusted tone. “Like a moth to the flame. And now… now you’re one of them.”
One of them.
“Because I married him?” I questioned him. “Except, what did you expect me to do? You left me thinking you’re dead. You LEFT me! Illias is ten times the man you are.”
If he’d told me what he was up against, what happened to him, I would have helped him move past all of it. If he would have only let go and let me in. But he didn’t. The whole time, I was never part of him.
He held his rage and hate in, letting his hate fester until he put me in the same group as his enemies. The enemieshecreated.
“You chose this,” I screamed, fury getting the best of me. “You chose your hate over us. Over me.”
He sneered. “You never loved me. You thought I was someone else and chased an illusion.”
“Maybe,” I hissed. “But you didn’t even do that. You didn’t love me. You used me. Made me believe I was mad. Fucking crazy out of my mind. And why?” He remained still, his eyes cold and cruel. “Fucking answer me. Why?” I screeched, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp pain of it grounded me. I had to keep my head, get it all out of him. “Did you hate me so much you had to make me believe I was crazy? Moving things around. Playing those voices at night. Scaring me out of my mind.”
A shadow passed his eyes, but it disappeared in the next breath. Then his lips curved into a cruel smile. The one I had never seen on his face.
“I needed you out of there, but you kept lingering. I played sounds at night to scare you. To convince you to leave.”
My head shook, remembering those early months. The unbearable ache. Fear. Sadness. I questioned my sanity. And he was fucking with me. Literally, torturing me.
