Page 17 of She will Always be Mine

The second Riaan pulls away, I feel the loss like losing a limb. It’s far more painful with an emptiness settling in my core.

The distance he puts between us feels like thousands of miles and countless oceans apart, when in reality, only a few feet separate us, but it doesn’t feel that way.

The pleading look he gave before his walls came up will forever be stuck in my head. He was giving me a lifeline, one last chance for us to become one again, but I couldn’t take it.

I did the right thing, I tell myself.

Despite the fact that it’s making it so much harder to breathe, to not run into his arms again, I grab the countertop behind me with my hands so I don’t fall down under the crushing weight of his cold stare.

All softness and protectiveness is gone from his eyes, as if I imagined it. Though only madness remains in those dark pupils, fear is the last thing running in my veins. At this point, I’m just depressingly numb. Crushed.

Until he proves me wrong.

“If I were capable of anything besides loving you, Nyra,” he confesses, “hating you would be so easy.” Ifheartbreakhad a sound, this would be it. “I’d be lying if I said the line isn’t blurring.”

I believe him right down to my soul and even if I wanted to ask for his forgiveness, it’s too late. So, I stay quiet and look anywhere but at him because there’s nothing I could say that will get rid of the ache and dilemma he’s feeling.

My silence must have given him the answer he needs because without another word, he briskly walks out of the bathroom.

I twist around to stare at my reflection in the mirror, looking awful and beaten down. Crying has made my eyes puffy again while traces of mascara run down my cheeks. My fingers touch the marks that my mother’s harsh slap left and shame burns me all over again.

I wish Riaan didn’t have to see it because his reaction left me terrified to my very marrow. I had never seen him pulsing with anger that made every muscle in his body tensed and aggressive. His gaze was murderous. There’s no other way to describe it.

I was scared he was going to run after my mom, and I believed him when he said the only thing stopping him was the fact that she was my mother and I loved her. I always knew he had this possessiveness and intensity below his rough and charismatic exterior, but actually hurting someone—my own mother—it was quite frightening to think about and further solidified the fact that he was dangerous. Riaan is so fucking scary that it was almost unbelievable.

Did he keep it caged or was I too blind? Worse, did I bring it out of him?

He doesn’t realize he proved that I made the right decision. The longer he stays in the dark, the better it is for us. He’s already suspicious of me, which he made very clear with his actions so far.

It’s not enough, though, because he’s like a hound and will never stop hunting until he catches my lies. I don’t even want to imagine the maelstrom he’ll bring if he knew that someone was blackmailing me. Nothing will stop him from spilling blood.

It will be the death of me.

Of us.

Our life will never be the same.

So, how do I stop him from coming after me? I thought breaking up with him would work, but it only managed to do the exact opposite.

My defenses are no match for his tenacity. Bloodthirsty.

My only hope remaining is that with time while we stay apart, he’ll forget and lose interest. That’s unlikely, I know! But what other choice do I have? All I know is that now more than anything, he can never find out the truth.

Splashing my face with water one last time, I step out of the bathroom and stop short when I find Riaan standing with his back to me near the window, looking out.

I assumed he would be long gone by now but I’m surprised he’s still here.

My gaze—always hungry for him—takes in his strong, veiny forearms while he has his hands pocketed. His dark gray shirt stretches over his back muscles that used to bear my scratch marks from when he pounded into me ruthlessly, making me cry out from the pleasurable pain.

He’s undeniably power personified.

I would have begged him to fuck me one last time if I wasn’t so certain that he’ll yank the secrets out of me.

When he’s inside me and I’m surrounded by him, I have no control over my senses, least of all my thoughts.

He turns me into nothing but a needy little girl, who is only desperate for his cock, the pain he delivers, and the pleasure he draws out of my body.

He must sense my heavy stare on him because he turns and faces me while I wait for him to speak. I don’t know what is left for us to say.

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