Page 50 of Unorthodox
She’s doing this all…wrong.
Is it fear? I think about her spitting on my shoe. Think about how good it felt to have her grovel at my feet.
But I meant what I told her. I don’treallywant to hurt her. I want her to make the most of her time here andlistento me.
As far as what she wants? I think she wants someone to want her. I can work with that. I can use her as a distraction from what’s coming. From knowing I’ll have to see the past eighteen years and what they’ve done to the only person aside from my mother that I ever loved.
Pushing that thought aside, like I have the past week and a half, I return my attention back to Addison.
Her green eyes are glued to mine, but she doesn’t move.
Her gaze is full of defiance, her pretty little mouth pressed together in a pout. But I gave her an out. Depending on where we are in this situation, I may or may not listen to her, but I still gave it to her.
And she hasn’t used it.
Maybe she’s scared of what I’d do if she didn’t let me do this. Maybe she doesn’t want to be drugged.
Maybe some part of her likesthis, and that’s what I want for her right now. I want her to wake up and hate herself in the morning because of all the ways she doesn’t hate what I’m about to do to her.
I know that feeling. The sooner she gets used to it, the better time she’ll have in this life.
Her golden tan is marred only by faint red marks on her face from Ben, and freckles from the sun splashed across her nose. Aside from the scars from her implants, and a few others along her body, her skin is perfect. Toned and smooth and supple.
She’s on the shorter side, and at just over six feet myself, sometimes she feels like a kid in my arms.
I suppose, in some ways, she is.
If only I knew a fucking thing about taking care of a kid.
“Addison.” When I say her name, she stands taller, flexing her bare toes against the wooden floor. “Sit in my lap.”
She keeps glaring at me, and I know she hates me. I know she hates being here. But she also thinks giving in to my demands is the lesser of two evils. It’s how I got her to let me into her bed at night. She might’ve been drugged, but she didn’t try to fight me.
And now that I’ve killed Ben, despite what I did to her in the soundproof room, she thinks I might be looking out for her.
It’s probably the same reason my mother stayed with my father for so long. My father was never a good man, never pretended to be. But compared to the men he worked with in Pretoria, sometimes he could look like a fucking saint.
Eventually, though, my mother learned. Learned and left him, taking me and Ollie with her.
But someone followed us on his orders. Put a bullet in her brain.
And someone took Ollie.
Even if I’d have wanted to do better after that, I don’t think I could have. When Ollie went missing, any shred of goodness I might have had was ripped away with him.
Just like Addison, I was born into this. Just like Addison, I’ve tried to make friends with my shadows.
Right now, she’s trying to fight it, but she’s looking for someone to guide her, even if it’s to the darkest pits of hell. Here, she’s lost. Looking to be found, and that’s what I’m for.
But I think she might need a little persuasion, because she hasn’t listened yet.
“Addison,” I warn her quietly, my eyes finding hers, “we don’t have to do this.” I smile as she trembles in front of me. “We could do something else to make you forget about the bad memories. Pain is a good distraction?”
I know that well. It’s how I was able to protect my brother, by offering up my own body as punishment, taking his instead. The pain made sure I never resented him. It hurt too much to give me room for anything else. The women I hurt at my father’s command? The pain blinded them, too, keeping them docile.Distracted.
I actually don’t want to hurt Addison right now. I want to help her. I know she wants that too, but she thinks giving in is a weakness.
“Be a good girl for me. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
