Page 50 of I Know Your Secret
“Get down!” I command, my voice a low rumble.
He whines before leaping off the end of the bed.
I turn my attention back to Greer, who’s seething behind my hand. “I took you because I couldn’t stand not to. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, but it doesn’t fucking matter. You’re mine. I don’t care if I have to stay on the run. I don’t care what I have to do. You. Are. Mine.”
Taking my hand off her mouth, her bottom lip drags at the removal, and I watch it longingly, wishing she were more like the docile, perfect sleep-version of her that has me so fucking obsessed.
It’s unhealthy.
“This is my life now?” she asks, as if seeking permission to lean into this new world.
“This is your life.”
Instead of breaking into tears, her hand slides up my chest, tracing my collarbone.
I try not to react, but my breathing hitches, giving me away.
“Time for bed.”
“I lied earlier,” she whispers, and I wonder if the dark room makes her feel comfortable enough to share.
“About?”
“My anger, some of it was about last night. Well… a lot of it was.”
“I know.”
“But not for reasons you’re thinking.”
That gives me pause.
I remain silent, hoping she’ll fill me in.
“Before you were in my life, before you started stalking me, I wouldn’t let myself be happy because I thought I didn’t deserve it. I went through the motions of school, work, and life for Allison, so that your death wasn’t in vain. I told myself I was living in your honor, what a crock of shit, right? Anyhow, after you started watching and taunting me, I’d go on the dates Allison set up that I couldn’t get out of, but I’d never let them become more because of you. I didn’t want you escalating. Last night was the first time I shoved all the bullshit aside and did what I wanted, and then you…”
“You lied to me. I told you that you wouldn’t like how I punished.”
“I get that part; I guess I just wanted you to understand where I was coming from.”
I try to ignore how her admission has made me feel, like I’m growing connected to her on a level I don’t know if I want to be.
Sure, I wanted to have her to myself to fuck and use whenever I felt like it, but anything more is just… out of my wheelhouse.
I’m not a regular guy; we’ll never be a normal couple.
I can’t deny that knowing she felt like it was the first time she was getting to do what she wanted makes me feel guilty.
Ineverfeel guilty.
“I don’t care where you’re coming from.” Lying back takes so much more strength than all the months I held back from fucking her while she slept under the haze of drugs.
“So, you don’t care that I lied again?”
“No.”
Is she baiting me?
A long silence stretches, making me wonder if she’s finally fallen asleep.
