Page 26 of Chained

Fair? She's talking about fair? I feel it building, the hatred, the venom. I grip her wrist. "I fuck you, Melina, because you come into my room uninvited and you spread your fucking legs for me."

She doesn't respond for a minute, her face dropping at my words, but I don't stop.

"And if I don't fuck you, you'll tell your fucking cunt of a brother I'd upset you. And we both know how that ends, don't we?" I throw her hand off me, shoulder-barging past her as I walk into my room.

My control is slipping. Just like it always does in her presence. I try to hold it back, to swallow it until I choke, but I can't. Every part of me burns with a rage so deep, a hatred so fucking thick.

"You make my fucking skin crawl, Melina. Every fucking night you're here, you make me wish it was my last."

It's a half-lie. I hate her, every part of her, but somewhere deeper, I still crave her. I still need her to take away the nightmares. I need her to spread her fucking legs long enough for me to drive myself inside when it all gets too much. I'll never tell her that, though, she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't move, her face hurt and body still.

"Are you just going to fucking stand there? Leave, Melina, save yourself some fucking dignity and just go." I grab her silk nightdress from the ground and throw it at her feet. She clutches the sheet tighter, her eyes darkening with every word.

"You think you can sit and insult me, Jax, but we both know the truth. You can sit and hide behind your hatred for me, but we both know you love my visits. You love losing yourself with me, anything to stop the—" Her voice is small but strong, but I cut her off. I don't need a reminder.

"Get the fuck out of my room." I glare at her, but she doesn't move.

"Hit a nerve, have I, Jax?" She laughs, dropping the sheet on the floor as she slips into her black silk nightdress, her gaze returning to meet mine as an arrogant smile forms on her lips. "You know, without me here, you'd lie in this bed tonight," her fingers trail over the mattress, slow as her voice turns softer, but somehow more menacing, "sobbing in your sleep. Remembering every moment of when your mummy sold you." She laughs as she walks closer. I turn my head as she stands in front of me, her voice vicious and breath hot against my throat. "You know, everyone told me that you were scum, that you were filthy. I ignored them, of course, thinking they were wrong, that you were something. But in reality, you're nothing." She spits on the floor beside my feet before locking eyes with me once more. "You're not worth anything, Jax. Never have been, never will be."

I don't reply, I just hold my breath as she places her hand on my chest, gently tapping against me as she turns to leave, crossing the room to the door. She doesn't look back. I move over to the bed, my chest tight from her words. She wasn't wrong. I've always been nothing, and no matter how much I try to prove my worth, it won't change.

I slump down onto the bed. I should have forced her out, but I didn't. I never do. I let her take more and more from me every time she touches me, every time I give in and lose myself in her. Guilt gnaws at me, my stomach turning as I realise that in some ways, I'm worse than her. I don't get time to wallow in my guilt—the nightstand beside me buzzes, my phone lighting up in the darkness. I ignore it; whoever it is can wait.

But it doesn't stop.

I groan, pulling myself up to sit at the edge of the bed, grabbing the phone. I stare at the screen.

VINCENT

His name flashes bright in the dark room. I don't answer, not yet. I just let it ring. There's no way Melina found him in that short time, and even if she had, she wouldn't have told him—despite her threats, she knows that as soon as she spills the secret of her nighttime visits, they'll be over.

No. This call is about something else, or someone at least.

I swallow, the vibration jarring against my ears as the emptiness sinks in.

Someone is going to die tonight by my hand, and there's not a fucking thing I can do to stop it. A darker thought creeps its way through the cracks of my mind:

But would I want to?

A shudder runs through me, almost electric as my stomach starts to bubble, the same way it does at the start of every contract, reminding me that I'll always be the monster they crave and even worse.

I enjoy it.

The phone screen fades quickly, but lights up faster. His name again. There's no escaping it. I accept the call.

"Ace." His voice is as annoying as it always is. My jaw tightens, hand gripping the phone tighter.

"It's 2:00 a.m," I reply, tone cold, body exhausted. I just want to sleep, to close my eyes and wash away the day, but fuck, it's clear that's too much to ask for.

"I don't give a fuck what time it is—" he spits out. I roll my eyes at his tone. "I need you in the cells for a few hours."

"I'm not a babysitter. Find some other prick to do it, because I'm—" He cuts me off, and I have to bite my cheek. Fuck you, Vincent. Fuck everything.

"You're whatever the hell I want you to be. Now be a good boy, Ace, and go to the cells." His tone is lighter, and I can almost hear the smile on his lips.

I hang up without replying, my phone instantly leaving my hand as I hurl it against the wall. I sigh as it drops to the floor in pieces, shoving myself off the bed and moving out to the balcony. The air is cold against my skin, and I lean against the railing, thoughts circling back to that night four years ago.

I wish he'd killed me then, put me out of my fucking misery. I'd tried to escape, but I'd failed. I'd let my love for his sister cloud every judgment I'd ever had, and I paid the price. My eyes glance at my forearms, fingers tracing the deep veins as the flashes of him pumping poison into my blood come and go. I squeeze my eyes shut tightly.