Page 21 of Twisted Hearts

12Megan

Maybe I shouldn’t have gottenmyself off in the window like that because I couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron. Shit, my crazy ass even wished it were him watching me. Instead, it was likely creepy old Mr. Hancock.

His old butt probably got off on watching me. I may have even given his ass a heart attack.

Since he was so damned nosey, he damn sure saw a hell of a lot of me and was likely on peeping-Tom overload after my scene.

A cool shower after my display and writing until my fingers started to ache hadn’t done any good to help me sleep. I couldn’t find peace. My nerves were on edge, and an anxious, paranoid feeling had been riding me all day. I couldn’t stop peeking out of my damn windows.

I was glad I’d made plans to move because every time I started to feel like this, something crazy happened. After peeing and washing my hands, I sat on the edge of my bed. Thoughts of Aaron plagued me. His face flashed across my mind and caused my nipples to tighten and my pussy to throb with a level of expectancy that wouldn’t be satisfied. Goose bumps rose on various parts of my body at times when it felt like the phantom touch of his hands had stroked me.

The man had a fucking hold on me that I couldn’t shake. When I was with him, he had me open for him so badly that I was ready to do all types of sinful sexual acts.

My gaze traveled through the dark and found my laptop, but I decided I didn’t want to start writing because I wouldn’t stop until daybreak.

Instead, I strolled through my dark bedroom and headed for the kitchen. I didn’t bother turning any lights on because I knew the place like the back of my hand. Most nights, just sitting in my bed or in the living room and staring out at the moonlit view was enough to calm me whenever my body begged for Aaron. Maybe a nice chunk of cheesecake would settle me down and give me that empty-calorie, false happiness vibe.

I gripped the refrigerator door with one hand and grabbed the slice of cheesecake that I hadn’t finished with yesterday’s surf-and-turf dinner I’d prepared.

As I pushed the door to the refrigerator closed, the container in my hand dropped to the floor, and I jumped about as high as a cat on a hot tin roof. My heart thundered in my chest as my eyes adjusted to the dark figure standing only feet away from me.

When my mind processed who was standing in my kitchen, my body seized. I would have likely pissed all over myself if I hadn’t just used the bathroom. I stood there frozen, a million questions running through my brain.

Afraid didn’t describe my state at this moment. Panicked and terrified weren’t strong enough words either. The crazy shit I’d pulled with the August Knights Motorcycle Club had doubled back to bite my ass off. I was so sure that I’d covered my tracks well, but I’d apparently not covered them well enough.

I’d only been able to pull the stunt off with the MC because I’d finally accepted that I was more twisted than I’d originally led myself to believe. It was like I needed the fear. I needed it like normal people wanted excitement in their lives. However, the level of excitement I craved crossed the line and swerved over into the crazy zone.

I realized that I truly hadn’t experienced true fear of anyone in the MC until I’d glanced into Aaron’s eyes for the first time. There was a depth to his darkness that had rung alarm bells within me, letting me know that no matter how crazy I thought my ass was, his ass was crazier. No matter what I’d seen, he’d seen worse. No matter what I’d done, he’d done worse. I’d seen Aaron kill. I’d seen that dead look he got in his eyes that told me he didn’t feel anything when he took someone’s life.

Since he was here in my kitchen, it meant he’d figured out what I’d done to him and his MC.

“Are you here to kill me?” The question fell from my lips in my normal, easy tone, which was the exact opposite of how I truly felt. My damn insides were threatening to shake out onto my kitchen floor. The cool ceramic tile under my bare feet was the only thing that kept me grounded. My fear was so strong, my body wobbled, trying to keep it contained.

Aaron answered my question by lifting his gun and pointing it at my head. Without shoes, I was eye-level to the top of his chest, so his outstretched arm had the gun leveled with my head. The silence between us, and the barrel of that gun pointed between my eyes made the air in the room freeze. My erratic, adventurous, and often dangerous tendencies had finally caught up with me.

For a while, I thought I was suicidal, but I’d held a gun to my head before, and I’d had a razor at my wrist, but I could never follow through. I enjoyed living enough that it confirmed that being suicidal wasn’t one of my problems.

I’d talked to a couple of therapists who’d pretty much told me in medical terms that I was a few steps from being insane. They hadn’t outright said the word insane. Instead, they used proper medical terms that made the word insane not sound so bad. Like psychotic break, mild psychosis, or disambiguation of the mind.

Maybe I was a functionally insane freak, but if I was insane, what did that make Aaron? Fuck! What did it make me for having feelings for him?

My shaky legs barely held me up as I faced him. My eyes never wavered from the steady hold he had on the raised gun. The darkness kept me from seeing the full view of him, but his presence ignited the dark space of my kitchen with sparks of pure terror.

I was sure that Aaron held some type of feelings for me when I’d lived in his home for those two weeks. He’d given me the best sex of my life, and we could never seem to get enough of each other. He’d told me I’d given him the same in return. Maybe that was the reason he hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. The idea that he might harbor feelings for me urged me to move stupidly closer to him. I inched close enough that I had to tilt my head to avoid stepping into the gun he hadn’t lowered yet. He’d shaved his beard off, and even in the dimness, I’d be damned if he didn’t look more tempting than he had before.

When he lowered the weapon, his movement sent a few splashes of light over his face. He stood, fuming with his eyes dead locked on mine. The veins in his neck and forehead bulged, and his jaw was clenched so tight the bone was threatening to break through the skin.

I could literally feel the anger rolling off his body. His breathing kicked up a notch, but he didn’t say one word, nor did he back away as I inched closer to him and placed my hand against his swelling chest right over his heart.

My gaze never wavered, and although it was dark, I glanced right into the depth of Aaron’s icy stare. His face remained pinched with a fury that I could not only sense, but feel, bounding off his body in angry waves.

“After you kill me, then what are you going to do? Will you pour acid on me and throw me into a deep dark hole?”

My question made a touch of his tension ease. His tense shoulders dropped a hair. Other than raising and dropping the gun, it was the first real reaction he’d shown me. His face remained contorted with so much anger, I hardly recognized him.

He shoved me. No warning, only the strong force of his hand pressed against my chest. The action caused me to stumble back a few paces as I fought to maintain my balance. The quickness of his action stunned me, and I stood glaring at him for a moment.

The clink of his gun sounded when he reached back and sat it on the counter behind him. Then, like before, he delivered another hard shove that sent me back and into the wall hard enough for the quick breath I’d sucked in to shoot out of my mouth.

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