Page 56 of Pain and Possession

I'm so fucked. So goddamn fucked.

I stare up at him, his intense hazel eyes burning with raw vulnerability that sends psychotic butterflies fluttering about in my stomach. On top of that it only just occurred to me I'm late. Like late late and we have never… not once used protection. Rookie mistake Laney would say, rookie mistake indeed.

Oh my fucking God, I'm falling for him. I'm falling for him and I can't remember my last period.

I'm actually falling in love with Noè Arcuri. Everything about him, the dark ugly parts of his soul, his past, the unapologetic way he carries himself. He takes a deep breath slowly removing his fingers from me as he closes his eyes. I want to speak, I want to say something. To tell him… but I can't. We would never work, right? This could never work. I would only end up hurt, damaged by the world he lives in. The world he runs. The last twenty four hours are nothing if not proof of that.

You're already damaged. Why not be damaged with someone that gives you butterflies?

The realization of that hits me about ten times harder than Tom did, dead center in my chest and immediately those walls he chips away at with every touch spring back into place. "You don't get to make decisions like that for me Noè. After that first night, it stopped being mychoice.You've taken control of my entire fucking life." I don't know why I say that. Those aren't the right words but I'm a liar and coward. I'm scared. God, I'm scared of becoming the thing that took my parents. Of becoming everything I've spent my life hating.

A monster.

He's a monster, but he's also kind, caring and he loves his family. He was abused, like me, probably worse. He wants his mom to love him. This is the point of no return, when monsters start looking like people. Like people you could love. I'm one shove away from the fucking edge and I want nothing more than to make the leap… why can't I?

"If I let you choose, you wouldn't have chosen me." He leans back such finality in his voice. Like he knows I could never want someone like him. Like he's started to believe me every time I've told him that.

But I'm a liar. You said it yourself.

I sit up my back and core aching as I reach down grabbing my underwear and pants. As I get dressed Noè runs a hand through his messy hair, he must be exhausted. God we both are, these past few weeks have been… intense.

Yet I've been… okay with them, I think. Which is a problem in and of itself.

He doesn't speak again as he leaves his office. I stand there staring at the discarded contents of his desk that litter the floor as the shower turns on in his bedroom. Emotions and feelings flooding me like a tidal wave forcing my legs to move me deeper out to sea. Closer to dangerous, uncharted territory. I hear the shower door slide closed as I peel off my socks and shoes. My fingers fumbling with the button on my pants as I strip them back off. Each layer feels like a storm slowly dismantling a well-built house, walls I erected around myself before I was old enough to realize what they were, why they were there. A second face, a mask I wore my entire life falls to the ground shattering among my discarded clothes.

I pause as I glimpse myself in the dark framed floor-length mirror in the bedroom. I turn slightly, pulling my long dark hair out of the way as I stare at the trail of blood he painted down my spine. Its dried wine-red color stands out against my pale skin. I follow the outline of my curves, the imperfect shape of my stomach. The light stretch marks that line the curve of my ass, the way my breasts don't sit high on my chest. For the first time, I don't hear a nasty taunting voice in my head. I don'tfeellike an ugly girl. I feel like the type of woman a man likeNoè Arcuri could love.

The type of woman I could love.

I don't bother wiping away the tears that stream down my cheeks, my heart fluttering in my chest as I turn my attention back tohim.I walk into the bathroom; the outline of his body shows through the embossed shower door. The lean athletic cut of his muscles. He leans forward bracing himself on the shower wall, letting the water fall over his face as though he's trying to drown his thoughts. He looks unrealistically beautiful like this, but I hate that I can't see his scars. The old wounds with their old stories that built a man like Noè. He looks up but doesn't turn to me as I slide open the shower door, the steam feels good on my skin as I slip inside. Reminding myself that I'm safe here with him as my heart drums in my chest. He straightens slightly his hands fisting, making the cuts on his knuckles open up again. I wrap my arms around him from behind, resting my face on his back. The water running down it pools past my face as he moves us further into the stream, making sure I'm warm. Even after I've hurt him. Even now he's making sure I'm warm.

"Noè… I've always been a toy. A plaything people would push around. They could pick me up to play with me when it suited them, then forget about me when it didn't. It didn't matter if they played nice or if the games were… cruel. I was temporary, a new puppy they got excited about for a while, but I never lasted. And neither did they." My voice breaks, words I've never spoken out loud spilling from me like vomit as he tenses, his breathing becoming ragged as the muscles and veins in his arms strain against his tanned skin. I'm half tempted to leave it there, to stop this before it goes too far. Before I say things that will have real-world consequences. Consequences that are out of my control.

"IfI was yours, it could only ever be as your equal. I won't be a toy for you.I will never be a toy again."

He turns to me, pure torment and… love so much love in his eyes, "You were never a toy to me Olive. It was never my intention to make you feel like less than you are, and for that I'm sorry. I want to make you feel like everything because you are everything. From that first moment I saw you walk into the bar; you were my everything."

I nod, trying to find words that don't come. I don't think I have the right ones. Not yet but I will and when I find them Noè I swear I will tell them to you. His lips find mine as he presses me into the shower wall. Noè kisses me as if he's been starved for my touch, as if he could swallow me whole making me a permanent part of him. I want him to consume me.

And he does.

I pull back, giving him a small smile as I run my hands through his wet hair. The water dripping onto his face, as he stares back at me. Letting me trail them down his neck to his chest, over the old scars and the fresh cuts. The slash he made at the club, the older nearly healed cut that I made on his skin. He's mottled, damaged and fucking beautiful.

"Wash me?" I ask quietly, suddenly feeling shy. His light smile disappears, his hazel eyes growing serious as if he's all too aware of the gravity of my request. He picks up a bottle of soap, his soap even though one marketed towards women remains unopened just beside it. I clench my fists so tightly my knuckles go white as he gently washes over my arms, wearing down the fear and insecurity I've held since I first felt Brandon's hands on me. He starts to hum softly, the gravelly notes in his voice turned slick like velvet as it rushes over my frayed nerves. I close my eyes leaning my head against his chest as he takes his time. When he nears my lower back, I can't stop the flinch. It happened years ago but my body remembers the feel the hot water on my skin, and the bile in my stomach.

It remembers the pain.

He pauses, taking the soft melody with him, "You don't have to tell me now but Olive…" I look up at him, meeting his eyes as he stops washing me taking my palms and pressing them to his chest. "I give you my word, I will lay his corpse at your feet." I take a shaky breath, the corners of my mouth threatening to pull up at the idea of it. Revenge. I lean back in hiding my shameful, twisted smile against his chest.

How could you be smiling at time like this?

Chapter thirteen

Remnants

Ilookupfromthe book clutched tightly in my hands, my half-eaten plate of dinner sat beside me on the floor of his office where I've been lurking for the past few hours as he worked. Unable to keep from taking glances at him, when he adjusts the dark-rimmed glasses on his nose or the confidence in which he speaks to his men. Even the way he let his grandmother scold him for being so absent lately. The very man that shot another in the head right beside me, beat another without a second thought and drown one to make a point letting a small old lady berate him in front of a group of men is actually pretty funny once you get through the depravity of it all. Which was unsettlingly easy for me once I tried. Or maybe I had never been holding on to that part of him to begin with just using it as an excuse. I jump slightly as a rapid knock comes from the door followed by it swinging open. Hock damn near trips over me, making me squeak as he rushes in, "Oh shit, hey Olive. Why are you on the floor?"

Noè casts him a disapproving look before laying down the papers in his hands, "Yes?" Hock goes to speak but pauses glancing back down at me. I try to ignore the irritation that sparks, knowing it's unfounded as I close my book getting to my feet.

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