Page 86 of Unorthodox
That’s not true. I think of Dante staring at the wall in the soundproof room. There was remorse written all over his face. “Why?” I demand Max. “Why would he have done that? It was a single moment of weakness and—”
His grip tightens as he jerks me closer. “I cannotafforda single moment of weakness, Addison. Not from him. Not from anyone. I don’ttolerateweakness.”
“Everyone is weak at some point in their lives, Max.” I grit my teeth, my wrists still circled by his hands, my body so close to his I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “You seem to havetoleratedit well enough with me.”
His brow furrows, but he doesn’t speak, as if waiting for me to continue.
“When I let you into my bed. When I called for you. After Ben. Thinking you were…” I swallow down the lump in my throat, but I don’t look away from him. “Thinking you would help me. And then you…youkilled him, and youtouchedme. And that entire week…I let you.And last night…” I can’t say it, the shame rendering me mute.
And he still says nothing. He doesn’t at all seem affected by me, by what happened between us. I’m not even sure if he’s breathing, the way he stands motionless, staring.
For a brief moment, like a tiny spark, his silence only fuels my anger. “It seems you do tolerate weakness. Just so long as it suits you.” Then the spark dies, and after I say the words, exhaustion washes over me. Exhaustion and shame, from the truth I spoke. From what I let him do, thinking he was the “good” guy. From all the ways I let my father’s guards manipulate me too. From the ways I tried to manipulate them, thinking I was a smart girl with a fucking plan. Like I could actually get out of the life I’d been born into. Like I could trick someone into loving me. Thinking of the way I let Danik leave me to go fucking surfing. I should have gone with him. I should have begged him to stay, to take me seriously.
But no one has ever listened to me, and I’ve never made them. I’ve never raised my voice loud enough to really be heard.
And the times with my father? In the end, I let him. Let him hurt me. Let him have me. Let him leave me when he was done.
I thought it would save me.
With Max, I thought the same.
It didn’t. Instead of being a strong, defiant prisoner, I simply became a weak, willing coward after the first time I ran.
Not anymore.
What’s the point, if the outcome will be the same? Whether I’m sold or sent back to my father, my life was never my own.
But I can make my voice heard. I can put up a fight. I can make myselfnotworth their fucking time.
“You’re not.”
Max’s words jar me back to the present. To the hot sun, the blue sky. The hell between us. The demons we each have, wrestling here with each other. With ourselves.
I shake my head, confused for a moment as I take in his stoic expression.
“Weak,” he says, his eyes searching mine. “You’re not weak.”
I almost laugh, but instead I say nothing.
“You’re young, and you’re reckless, and you’re scared. You’re caught up in a war that has nothing to do with you, and you’ve tried to get out.” His grip loosens around my wrists, but I don’t move. “You are…” He trails off, and I wait for the insult, holding my breath. But he just says, “You’re a lot like me, when I was your age. Except you’re...better.”
He lets go of my wrists, takes a step back. Running a hand along his jaw, he looks down. “I can’t leave you out here. I can’t let you go.” His eyes meet mine again as he drops his hand. “I know you don’t understand it. I know you’re confused. But there are things at play here that are way over my head too.”
“Why?” I ask him, taking my chance. “Why can’t you let me go? If I disappear, you get your money from my father, and—”
“Addison.”
I want to keep going. I want to try to reason my way out of this, but I know that if he’s made up his mind, talking in circles isn’t going to change it.
“I’m not letting you go.”
I want to stomp my foot. I want to rip out my hair. I want to scream. Instead, I just ask again, “Why?”
He glances up at the sky, and his eyes almost look white, the sun reflecting off of his irises. But when he meets my gaze again, I see the steel and blue, and I’m amazed at how beautiful such a horrible person can be. “I don’t want to. And I won’t, until I have to.” He steps toward me again, reaching for my wrist.
I let him take it.
“You’re mine now, Addison.” Some of the predatory gleam is back in his eyes, and I know he doesn’t mean those words in an endearing way. “Despite what you so willingly gave him,you’re fucking mine.”
