Page 82 of Tell Me Why
Christian
Raising the paddle up,I bring it back down on Eve’s thighs, but Jackson’s hand intercepts, and he yanks the paddle out of my hand.
“What the fuck are you doing, Christian?” He tears his mask off and shoves my shoulder hard enough to push me back.
“What the fuck does it look like?” I growl. “The senior counsel gave their approval to have her initiated, so that’s what I’m doing.”
Normally, Eve wouldn’t even stand a chance at getting into our society. Her history with Shadow and Ash would be an immediatefuck no.But earlier today, I pitched Eve’s case to the senior counsel, and by some miracle, I managed to talk them into it…
“Yeah,ifshe agreed to it,” Jackson points out. “But an initiation can’t be done by force. You fucking know that.” He points to Eve on the ground. “Thisis sketchy as fuck.”
My heart thunders against my ribcage as I spin on Jackson, using both hands to shove him back. “Fuck you,” I thunder, each breath coming rapid and shallow. “We do sketchy shit every fucking day.”
“Not like this,” Jackson replies.
I swallow. “I need this. I need her…”…tied to me, in every way possible.
I thought I had this all figured out, but shit with Eve took a turn I wasn’t expecting, and now it’s all fucked up—my plan, my head, my black, twisted heart—it’s all completelyfucked.
Jackson stands in front of me, shoulders tense, anger dripping off him. “Listen, man, I get it. I really do.” He points down at Eve again. “But this isn’t the way.”
I shake my head slowly. Hegets it? Nah. He’s full of shit. He has no fucking clue how this feels—t be so consumed with someone that he can’t think, can’t fuckingbreathe. Every day, every fucking minute, I feel like I’m drowning unless she’s in my goddamn line of vision…
“I can’t risk her leaving…” I say, hyper aware that everyone is watching me behind their masks, probably with a mixture of fascination and horror.
Jackson relaxes and cuffs me on the shoulder, then turns and addresses the membership, officially kicking off the celebration. His voice blends into the sound of crashing waves behind us. I can’t even register his words. I’m in a daze, my attention focused on Eve, lying on the blanket, head turned to the side, eyes closed, dark hair spilling over her shoulder.
She was given the same sedative we use on initiates to calm them down. It has a short half-life, so it’ll wear off soon. Twenty minutes, maybe.
Crouching down beside her, I remove my mask and rake a hand down my face as the celebration kicks off. Ritual drums pound through hidden speakers that are tucked between the rocks, while ethereal female vocals float over the beach like ghosts, the bodies around us moving seductively to the haunting melody.
I have no idea how long I’m staring down at Eve, studying her face, watching her chest rise and fall. My fingertips twitch with the need to touch her.
It was always the plan for her to leave, to go back to her brother—from the moment she stepped into Rush House and offered herself to us, tome. My plan relied on it, in fact. And for a while, I convinced myself that I could do it, I could let her go at the end of all this.
But now,fuck, just the thought of letting her walk away feels like I’m drowning, my lungs screaming for the air I can’t seem to pull in. All my careful plans? My calculated plotting? They’ve been swept away by this insane need to keep her close. It’s not rational, I know that. But somehow Eve Savano has gotten tangled up in my fucking soul and letting her leave would be like cutting pieces out of my own damn body.
I need her to stay. There’s no other way. And all the shit with Shadow and Ash? I’ll figure it out.
A shadow falls over Eve’s sleeping form, blocking the firelight.
“Hey, Christian.” It’s Cash, his voice tight. Urgent. “We need to talk. Now.”
Without looking up at him, I shake my head, unable to tear my gaze away from her for even a second. Every cell in my body is tethered to this girl. “Later.”
“Dude, it’s urgent.” His tone drops. “It’s about your little issue.”
My jaw clenches so hard, pain radiates down my face, and my teeth creak under the force of it. “I said not now.”
Cash lingers, his shadow shifting. “This can’t wait?—”
“Fuck off, Cash,” I growl, finally twisting to look up at him. He must register something dangerous in my eyes, because he flinches. “Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow.”
He backs away with a curse, clearly pissed by my dismissal, but who gives a fuck? My focus returns to Eve, to each slow, steady breath. I reach out, my fingers hovering over her face, hesitating. One touch might trigger something I’m powerless to stop.
Fuck!
Rising from my crouch, I turn to watch the party. Not long ago, I looked forward to these kinds of events—booze and mayhem? Fuck, yeah. But now, watching people drink, laugh, fuck openly on the sand—it feels hallow, like I’m removed from it. Watching it all from a distance.
