Page 101 of The Cruelest Chaos
He goes to the bathroom, washes his hands, and when he comes back out, the door stays open at his back, letting light spool into the room. He’s changed into shorts.
I want to be unaffected. I want to tell him I’m going to sleep. I want to kill him. I want to carve those hickeys off of his neck.
I do none of those things. I lock eyes with him instead and watch with bated breath while he comes to sit on the bed beside me.
He reaches out to smooth the hair from my face and I jerk my head from his touch. A laugh comes from his mouth, carefree and breezy, like I’m an amusing child. He still touches my face, even as I refuse to look at him. Refuse to make it easy for him.
His fingers trail down my jaw, over my neck.
“Jealous, baby?”
Jealous?I want to kill him. I say nothing.
“I’m going to let you out of these cuffs, Ella,” he whispers, his fingers on my neck. Despite myself, my body reacts, my nipples hardening, pressing against my sweatshirt. “But you have to promise me you won’t run.”
Won’t run?Of course I won’t run.I’m going to kill you.
But I still say nothing.
He jerks my chin in his hand, forcing me to face him. “I think we’ve went over this, Ella. When I ask you a question,” he leans down close, his mouth over mine, and I want to puke. “You fucking answer me.”
I stare up into his blue eyes, his brows furrowed. I want to spit in his face.
Seconds tick by. His fingers dig further into my chin.
And then I nod. “I won’t run,” I say through gritted teeth.
He smiles. “That’s better.” He lets go of my face, reaches around for the key in his back pocket. He undoes one cuff, then the other, leaving them attached to the bed, but freeing my hands.
Blood rushes down my arms, which are tingling, and I slowly rotate them down by my sides, the ache in my shoulders making me grimace.
He pockets the key and sits back, his feet on the floor, hips twisted toward me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I ignore him, shaking out my hands.
Gently, he reaches for my wrist with both hands, stretching his body out long on the mattress. He runs his thumb over the bones.
I almost groan at how good it feels, but when I close my eyes, I see it all over again. Hear him burying into her.Daddy.
My eyes burn with unshed tears. My throat feels tight, and I can barely look at him.
“I can’t believe you,” I whisper quietly. “I can’t fucking believe you.”
His massage on my wrist stops, and he lets me go. When I open my eyes, he pushes away from me, sitting up on the bed. He runs a hand through his hair, groaning.
“You...” I can’t finish my sentence. I don’t even know what I was thinking of saying.
“I, what?” he taunts me.
Anger evaporates my tears. “I fucking hate you.”
His jaw clenches. But then he smirks at me. “Good. Now you know exactly how I felt watching you let that fucking kid put his hands all over you.”
In this moment, Idofucking hate him.
And when I get feeling in my arms again, I move.
