Page 52 of August and the Night

She seems to consider my suggestion, tapping her chin as if in deep thought. "Well, I suppose a bit of sun wouldn't hurt. But you know I'll probably end up looking like a lobster."

I couldn't help but chuckle again, my heart swelling with affection for her. "That's the charm of your pale skin," I say softly, my gaze locked on hers with genuine admiration. "It reminds me of freshly fallen snow. I love it, it suits you."

A blush tinges her cheeks, but her eyes hold a warmth that melted my heart. "You always know how to make me feel special," she replies, her voice affectionate.

Leaning in, I press a tender kiss to her forehead. "Because you are special," I whisper, my lips lingering against her skin. "Every moment with you is a treasure.” I tell her softly.

Since I am really fond of teasing her, I start tickling her, causing laughter to erupt from her. She tries to fight back, but her petite frame is no match for mine. After about five minutes, tears of laughter stream down her face, and I decide to stop. As I let her compose herself, she quickly puts me on my back and straddles me. I gaze up at her with pride, enjoying the little burst of strength she showed me.

"Who's in control now?" she asks playfully while tickling me, and I raise an eyebrow before flipping us over, pinning her arms above her head.

She looks at me with eyes full of desire, her chest heaving.

I put more weight on her, and our tension becomes unbearable. I lean down, and we kiss passionately, our tongues meet in a heated battle. I break the kiss and start kissing her neck, eliciting a small moan from her.

Suddenly, she utters three words that freeze everything in me. "I love you," she moans, and my heart instantly turns to ice.

I right myself up, no longer on top of her, and feel as though my heart has stopped beating.

She sits up, her face a mix of confusion and hurt, as if I'm in the process of shattering her world.

However, in this moment, the guilt of loving her pulls me into a suffocating place. A place where I can't feel, move, or breathe. I feel paralyzed, as though I've lost control. I'd do anything to stop feeling like this, to escape from emotions I haven't experienced since the death of my parents, even if it means hurting her.

"I can never love a monster like you, Layla," I say, watching her face crumble before me.

Her eyes instantly well up with tears, and I feel numb. All I care about is escaping this situation that's consuming me alive, and now the only way that seems possible is to hurt her to the point of leaving me.

I've already gathered enough information from her to get my revenge. It's time for her to leave, no matter how much it hurts me. I don't listen to my heart that feels like it’s being stabbed repeatedly from the look on her face as I continue, "Do you really think anyone will ever love you if they find out the truth of where you come from?"

Her eyes search my face for the meaning of my words, looking as confused as she does hurt. "You're truly going to act like you don't know what I'm talking about?" I ask, feigning humor.

She stands up with shaking legs, grabbing her clothes and dressing herself hastily.

"I'm not going to stay for another minute and listen to your bullshit, August," she says firmly, despite the tears streaming down her face.

"You don't want to know what makes you a monster. What makes your entire family monsters?" I tell her, laughing bitterly. She ignores me and starts getting her purse ready to leave.

"Your family killed my father," I say with rage, and I hear her gasp, followed by her purse dropping to the ground, its contents spilling all over. She turns to look into my eyes, her own flooded with tears, shaking her head as if refusing to believe what I said.

"Lily's mother was under the influence of drugs and alcohol when she crashed into my father's car—drugs she had access to through the business your father and uncle ran. Well, your uncle was more focused on the drugs, while your father was involved in a pedophile ring. A lucrative family business, don't you think?" I laugh bitterly,

and her legs seem incapable of holding her anymore as she sits on the ground, starting to hyperventilate.

"Oh no, little dove, it doesn't end there. Your father then proceeded to get her off without a jail sentence, not even with a slap on the wrist. You're the Lexingtons, aren't you?" I tell her, and at this point, she seems to be dissociating from reality. She puts the contents of her purse back in and stands up on shaky legs, stumbling twice before finally finding balance. I clench and unclench my fists to stop myself from going over and helping her up.

She turns and starts walking out of the bedroom, but I refuse to let her leave without telling her the entire truth. "And Lily, sweet thing, isn't she? Your father certainly thinks so," I speak, my voice grating with rage.

She freezes and turns around to face me, her head tilted in confusion and fear. "Lily is innocent; she has nothing to do with the monstrosities of my family," she says with conviction, but I can't help but laugh, knowing how wrong she is.

"Lily is what we call a seductress, my dear; your father uses her to seal deals with different business partners—a gift, you could say. He certainly enjoys her himself," I tell her, watching as her face loses all its color at once. "She and your father were planning to sell your virginity off soon," I deliver the killer blow.

She puts a hand against the wall and leans on it for support as her eyes seem to glaze over while processing everything. "My father and Lily sleep together? She knows all about the illegal rings and helps secure deals? She planned to sell me?" she fires off questions, and I nod to confirm each revelation.

She puts her hands on her knees and starts hyperventilating, and a scream tears through her before sobs echo through the room, as if among all the revelations, this was the worst.

"You may seem innocent now, little dove, but you have their blood in you, and that isn't comforting," I tell her, despite knowing that my little dove is incapable of hurting a fly.

But I cannot be with her; she must hate me.

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