Page 49 of Relapse
She clamped her legs shut and shook her head. “Nothing.”
Why wasn’t I surprised?
That was clearly a lie.
There were a few things I could do in this situation. Like prying the truth out of her by forcing her legs open and seeing for myself why she was bleeding. But that would be too easy. Besides, I was much more interested in the hand she’d tucked behind her back.
“Whatcha got there, Freckles?”
Her face screwed up in a scowl. “Nothing.”
Fuck me if that snarky little bite in her tone wasn’t one of the hottest things I’d ever heard. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t in the mood to play games.
Intent on finding out for myself what she was hiding, I lunged forward and reached out. That’s when her hand swung through the air, smacking me across the face. I’d never come full stop so fast in my life.
Did she just fucking slap me?
Did I like it?
I cocked a brow down at the surprise glimmering in her eyes. Yeah, I think I did. Little Harper Callaghan had some fight in her after all. A slow smirk spread across my face. This was going to be fun.
“Um… I-I….” she held her palms. “I didn’t mean…”
“Oh, you didn’t mean it.” I cocked a brow down at her. “Was someone else controlling your arm, because I’m pretty sure you just fucking hit me.”
Harper jarred back against the toilet and quickly muttered, “I’m sorry,” as I stepped into the stall.
“You say that a lot.” I flattened my palms on the wall behind her and leaned in to growl, “What are you sorry for this time, Freckles?”
The second she ducked to hide behind her hair, I reached out and snatched her arm. She tried to fight back.Triedbeing the operative word. I tore her hand out from her behind her back with minimal effort.
A nail file dropped from her grip and clacked down on the floor. If Harper thought I was mad before, she was wrong. The tiny specks of red dotting the edge of the metal file rekindled any of that fire I managed to tamp down.
“Did you fucking cut yourself?”
I could see the guilt in her eyes before she shook her head. “No.”
Okay, now I was pissed.
“I’m getting real sick of your lies, Freckles.”
“I’m not… I mean…” Her gaze fell down to the evidence laying on the ground. “I’ve never done it before.”
Harper had some tells. A little twitch in her nose, a slight curl of the lips, and fluttering lashes were a few. For the most part she was a pretty good actress, but there was one thing she never could fake. Honesty. And the look on her face was too earnest for me not to believe her.
“You think that makes it any better?” I knew something about self-harm and the dark path of relief it pulled people down. If she wanted pain, I’d give her pain.
“Mason –”
My fingers speared in her hair, cutting her off before she could plead her case. I didn’t give a shit about what she had to say, or why she did what she did. The end of my rope had officially been reached. It was time Harper Callaghan learned what would happen if she continued to spew bullshit my way.
Without a second thought I dragged her out of the stall and across the tiled floor. She fought to get away, flailing her legs while she clawed at my arm and begged me to let her go. But she wasn’t doing herself any favors.
The only thing she was doing was turning me on. Every time her nails bit into my flesh my dick got harder. I actually had to pause and re-adjust before I slammed her face down on the counter.
“You want pain, Freckles? Fine.” My hand landed firmly on her ass. “That one’s for scratching me.”
She took it pretty good, just pressed her face into the counter and whimpered. So I smacked her again.
