Page 150 of Shadowface

“My mother helped him clean it up, and they both watched as that judge, Remington Vital, put Dani’s father away for that woman’s murder.”

I will never forgive myself for hurting Dani that way. If she knew this, she would end me. It would destroy her, or they would kill her.

Mikael merely says, “It’s what they do. They make things go away.” His fingers grip and dig into me. “He got sloppy sometimes; I’m actually surprised he never got caught.”

I shiver as a cool breeze hits us, and I realize I’m losing him again. I shift around to face him, pushing him down before he can stop me, and I straddle him, digging my knees into the icy ground.

His eyes. It’s always his eyes. They are cruel and sexy and so fucking dangerous. Poised and taut like a violin, tantalizing me to play with him.

I meet his stare. “Don’t do that, Mikael.”

His head shifts to the side as if my meager attempts at keeping him at bay are amusing. I know the person speaking to me the last few minutes was Lincoln, but now Mikael’s back—and Mikael, I can play with.

He blinks and feigns innocence. “Do what, Summer? I’m just being my dazzling self.”

I press myself on his growing erection. He watches me now psychotically. The sickness is gone now that I’ve admitted I’m not normal.

The guilt was eating away at me, not his mind control. He never had mind control over me; he just knew that my secrets were killing me.

“Don’t leave me. Stay with me. Please. Work through the anger. Don’t let that split take over you again. You are more than an emotion, so don’t let that emotion define you.”

His jaw tenses, but he arches his hips as I grind on top of him. I pull my leggings down and nudge his pants down to his thighs, pulling out his erection. I waste no time getting him inside me, rolling my body over his.

I stare down at him and just breathe.

For the first time in years, my chest isn’t constricted. My stomach doesn’t feel like it has fleas in it.

I ride him for a few minutes, and I know I have him. Now I just need to keep him from losing himself in his madness.

He grips my hips and flips me over, twisting his body over top of mine. His lip curls and his hand finds my breast, and I squeak when he presses something cold into my neck.

I wrap my legs around him and run my fingers through his dark hair. I go limp beneath him, arch my chest out, and twist my neck so he has easy access to it. “If you’re going to do it, do it already,” I taunt. “Fucking kill me.”

He grabs my hair and tilts my head back. His eyes are wild now. His violent explosion is over; he now has slow methodological movements as he seriously contemplates it. I don’t break eye contact. Not once.

“You love me more than you hate me. You won’t kill me.”

His eyes shift, go blank, and then shift again, reflecting the inner turmoil within him, rendering him silent. It’s as if both of them are absent, leaving behind an empty shell.

The moment swiftly dissipates, replaced by a surge of pure, steely rage. The only thing I can do is try to help him pull all the pieces of himself together and, hopefully, it puts the split at bay.

If I can’t pull Mikael out, I am going to die. I knew that was a risk coming here, and I’m willing to accept it.

“Do me a favor,” I say as the wind shifts and I can hear faint music from the warehouse.

“What’s that, baby?” he says, playing with a lock of my hair. I truly don’t know who’s behind those eyes.

“I want you to fuck me while you kill me so I can at least get off while you do it.” Everything after that is a blur. But one thing I’m certain of: he definitely feels something.

I arch my back and moan when he hits me hard right in my g-spot, then he pounds me again and again, grabbing my throat and squeezing.

My world goes hazy, and I realize ever so slowly that he is killing me. One twitch of his thumb and I’m gone. A deeper squeeze, and he will cut my throat open.

I get lost in it, in the pleasure of dying. The intoxication of love and death at once. It flows through me like a snake slithering through a garden, toward a piece of forbidden fruit. It tastes sour, then it turns sweet. It’s fire and ice, and calm peaceful waters.

He keeps squeezing and fucking until the moment where my stomach heats and my orgasm builds, and I finally find my true release.

It’s my true rebirth.