Hate Me Like You Do, page 10
Almost.
It’s hard not to drag my feet as I walk up to the grand brick house. I still haven’t gotten used to living in something that looks straight out of a movie about a rich man taking in someone poor.
Oh my god, I’m the hooker from Pretty Woman.
My mom watched that movie on repeat. Maybe she had a dream that one day she would be whisked up by a prince in a mansion with money falling out of his pockets. I mean, doesn’t every girl? Every girl except Delores. I think she could be happy with just a mud pie.
Entering the house, I walk by Knox, Landon, and Reed watching TV. My glare is a laser that burns into the back of their heads, if only it actually could hurt them. I intend to go straight to the kitchen with the hopes to ask Mr. Heethers if he could have the cook make me something, anything to eat. I’m starving.
I pretend not to notice that they all turn and watch me walk away. Maybe my laser stare really did do something.
I hope it hurt whatever it was.
“She looks like shit,” Landon mumbles.
“Good.” Knox turns back toward the television.
When I make it into the kitchen, a couple of staff members are already cleaning up what was likely the boys’ dinner. The two workers look up at me, but then turn immediately to leave when someone else enters.
Leaving me alone with the looming figure behind me.
Eleven
Dee
“I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry, Dee.” Landon’s eyes are so big I can see my reflection in his black frames as well as the inky depths of his gaze as he comes so close he almost reaches for my hand.
Somehow this sorry doesn’t make me feel better. It just feels like he is twisting the knife in my gut that he helped stab me with. Landon’s voice may be filled with some form of regret but people can fake an awful lot of things. Regret being one of them.
My mother apologized more often than she told me she loved me.
I’ve heard a thousand apologies when I all I really want is one real ‘I love you’. And I never realized that until right now.
I take a sharp inhale, making myself meet his gaze. Fury ignites inside me. An emotion that I managed to unlock while I froze my ass off wandering the locker room halls without clothes on. At this point, I’ll be happy if they catch me in the act of breaking into every one of those lockers on camera and send me away.
I pray they take me away from this living hell.
I’m done. I’m so done with everyone.
Including good guy, golden boy, Landon Scott.
“Fuck your sorry.” My voice trembles with so much rage my whole body shakes. “Sorry doesn’t do anything, Landon. Sorry is for bandaids and slips, not needles and counselors. I have to see a counselor who’s just waiting for me to pick up a habit and hit someone in a fucking Circle K parking lot just like my mother. Because of you. Because I wanted to kiss you and you wanted someone–anyone else.”
I push my finger into his chest. I don’t know who planted the needle. I don’t know who stole my clothes. Him or Knox or Reed, it doesn’t matter. They made my life what it is at this moment.
And I hate them for.
The only men I’ve ever cared about, made me hate them far faster than they ever made me fall in love with them.
And I think I was in love with them from the moment we met.
“Because you wanted to kiss me?” Landon’s brows bunch together, his voice unsure even as he says the words.
I shake my head at him my hands trembling at my sides. “You are ruining my life. Ruined my life.” I step closer, his body heat breeding into mine in a delicious way. “And you’re asking me about a fucking kiss.” With a tilt of my head, I let my breath fan against his parted lips. “I wanted to know what all those other girls felt like. I wanted something so innocent.” My fingers drag down his chest, his gaze dropping to my mouth. “I wanted the most minute amount of affection.”
I’ll shatter these boys like they’ve shattered my entire life. My senior year, my dreams of college, my aspiration of becoming something better than my mom. I hope they’re happy. They may have finally broke me, but they’re not prepared to handle the jagged pieces that are left.
Tenderly, I let my lips meet his. I let myself kiss him ever so slowly. I wanted this all along. He did too. It’s the sweetest kiss that’s never felt so vile.
Maybe that’s what hate does; it takes pure innocence and makes it dark and deadly.
Just like me.
Pulling myself away, he follows me, chasing after my lips. It’s the first time he’s really chased me.
He’s a little too late.
“I wanted something so sweet. And all it brought me was pain.” I let every ounce of bitterness fill my words. He isn’t worth another glance as I shove past him.
I finally got one terrible thing I always wanted. A real kiss.
Happy fucking birthday, Violet Demure.
Every single day I return to Mournmount Academy is a blur of knotting, twisting feelings. The emotions are eating away at me from the inside out. It’s making me stronger. Or at least, less worried about what others think or what they’ll do next.
Because, what’s the fucking point?
Today I’m not raising my hand to answer the teachers’ questions. I’m uncaring when someone points out that I didn’t wear knee high socks or hosiery under my navy pleated skirt. Instead of giving a response to them, or anyone I just tug the hoodie I stole from Knox’s locker closer to me and hide myself further under the hood.
I crumple my failed math test in my palm, heading for my locker. A hand grips my shoulder, spinning me and pinning me against the wall. My head hits the brick behind me with a soft thud, my hand instinctively coming up to rub at the small knot forming there.
“That’s mine,” Knox says pushing the hood away from my face.
“Was that necessary?”
Knox straightens his shoulders, dark eyes narrowing on me. The warm scent of his expensive cologne he wears fills my nose. The scent is so much more pleasant than he is.
“That’s mine,” he repeats a little more sternly.
“You weren’t using it.” I look away.
“Don’t steal from me, Violet. My father hates thieves and so do I.”
I always knew he was unkind, I just never realized he was so damn dramatic.
“If you say so, Mr. Reyes.” With an acidic, biting laugh, I start to pull the black hoodie over my head, fingers brushing over bare skin. His scarred hands stop me, roughly shoving the material back down my stomach.
The brush of his hand against my skin is like searing heat that tingles right through me.
“Are you not wearing a shirt under it?” he hisses, his warm knuckles still skimming my navel.
A few students stop to watch our exchange, but Knox gives them a menacing glare, and they continue on their way. No one else is brave enough to say anything to Knox Reyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mention that. I was too busy being beaten down for borrowing a fucking hoodie. Kylie had another accident this morning and threw her cappuccino at my chest. Hence the disgraceful thievery I committed. Feel free to hang me at the gallows whenever you’re ready.” I shove his lingering hands away but he’s fast to react.
Both of his large hands slam against the wall on either side of my head, my shoulder flinching hard from the violent sound of it. The fury that lights up his eyes has his jaw clenching tightly. His chest is rising and falling quickly, brushing mine with every inhale he takes.
I don’t want him to see it. That chill that leaves me trembling slightly underneath him. Fear from a childhood filled with too many of my mother’s crazy ex-boyfriends. Memories of men who got too close, too angry.
Show them fear and they capitalize on it.
It was so damn easy for me to fake it here among all these rich kids.
Because I’ve been faking my emotions my whole life.
Now is no different.
At this point I expect it. I expect Knox to only push me further when he smells how terrified I am shrunken beneath him.
Breathlessly, he stills. Something registering in his mind, something softening his features. Knox licks his lips then looks around slowly, his gaze shifting over the people watching our every move.
Welcome to my show, thank you for coming, so glad you could make it.
This is my life now, everyone just waits for something to watch.
He leans down toward me. I freeze not evening allowing myself to exhale the tension pressing within my chest.
“You don’t belong here.” He speaks in a quiet hush that’s laced with venom, a true snake about to strike. The long fingers of his right hand slide along my throat, over my racing pulse before skimming down my arm and lingering at my side as he trails his index finger up and then down the side of my bare thigh, hiking my navy skirt up a little higher and a little higher with every flick of his drifting hand. “You should leave. Today. Run away and don’t ever think of this place again, don’t you ever fucking come back.” His full lips brush so lightly against mine that I sigh even as he starts to speak again, “If you don’t go, you’ll end up dead, Vi. You know I don’t want to see you like that, Vi,” he whispers low and sweet as he kisses me slowly one more time with steady fear and irrational want stinging through my veins.
Before I can take another trembling breath, he’s gone.
And I’m left processing the sweetest kiss and the deadliest threat that somehow happened simultaneously.
Twelve
Landon
If I know anything, it’s that when Knox starts pacing he’s about to go on some sort of bender. The first time I saw him pacing was two years ago when he returned after meeting his twin brother for the first time. He wasn’t wounded, barely a scratch on him, but blood saturated his shirt and stained every tattoo he had on his hands.
There’s a reason people are afraid of Knox. Some concealed, grim hopelessness hides beneath a mask he usually wears. It rarely slips.
I hate to see it slip.
Just like it is right now.
What would he do this time? Break something? Break someone? Would it be Dee that ended up crumpling in his path?
It seems likely since I keep catching him walk up the stairs, hovering by the bedroom, then coming back down and circling the couch in the living room where I sit. When he strides back toward his path, I lift my leg to stop him before he continues on his route.
Knox looks straight ahead, jaw lined so hard he looks like he might rip right into me with just his teeth. “Move,” he growls out.
But I can’t take it.
I can’t.
“What’s the fucking point?” I nearly scream. “Destroy her fucking life, is that the goal? Because we’re almost there, asshole.”
Knox slaps my leg down with bruising force. Anger rallies inside of me as I stand abruptly. Our chests collide. Fuming aggression radiates around us as we glare at one another.
“Sit. Down.” A classic Knox stare. A level stare, a deadly stare.
“I’m not doing it anymore.” I’m mad but I keep my voice steady this time. I don’t want Dee’s attention. I don’t want her in Knox’s sight when he’s like this. Those bad things that go bump in the night, demons, and other frights people tell stories about, none of it compares to Knox. He is what people should be warned about.
“I thought you were my brother, Landon. We had a deal.”
I am his brother. In every way but blood.
But guilt is a hell of a feeling. It began to eat me away, especially after Dee kissed me in the kitchen. I didn’t feel guilty breaking our deal to drive Dee away though. Knox couldn’t use that feeling as leverage on me.
Not any more.
“I agreed to help teach her a lesson. To find a way to drive her away. She clearly isn’t going anywhere and I’m not about to ruin her future for some stupid reason you won’t even tell us.”
Knox laughs. His finger jams into my chest poking me harshly as he talks. “You’re not done. We’re not done until she’s out of this house.”
With one quick move I grab the hand pushing against me, bending his finger back. I don’t care if I break it. My head snaps to the side though as Knox’s fist meets my cheek.
I stumble back with pain searing through me.
“You’re done when I say,” he repeats again.
Everything I see becomes red. I don’t hear anything but ringing and it’s like I have blinders on that only focus me on Knox and resentment that builds in me now. A roar rips out of my throat and I dive at him.
My shoulder connects with his waist, the air hissing out of him as we barrel toward the coffee table. We become a blur of limbs taking jabs at each other. Glass shatters across the old wooden floor boards before we collapse onto the table, the wood groaning then splintering beneath us.
Knox doesn’t seem to register pain. Nothing stops him as he flings me away from him, my body wanting to crumple inward from the impact of the wall. I see the beast that lurks behind his deadly eyes as he turns me, straddles me, and lets his fists rain down on my face.
My glasses shatter. With each blink, the red I see dims. It becomes flashes of black as my body threatens to betray me and send me unconscious just to ease the cracking pain. I feel nothing and everything all at once. Every cell is aware of the agony that is likely to leave permanent marks but none of it registers.
But then it all stops.
“Knox! Stop!” a voice growls out.
When my lashes peel open, Reed has Knox by the collar, shaking him gently. Knox’s wild gaze is still on me, his body a tight chord ready to snap. Reed pushes him away from me, standing between us.
“Go for a walk. Get yourself together.”
Knox’s lip curls but he walks away in striding, pounding steps. I loose a breath, letting myself sag against the ground finally. Reed kicks away the leg of the broken table and sits next to me on the ground.
“What were you thinking?”
My attention snags on the shattered pieces of glass and I don’t bother to look up at him. I don’t want to see the disappointment in his face.
“I’m done,” I say numbly.
Reed shakes his head. His foot gently kicks my arm. “Get up and clean the blood off your face. Knox is likely to smell it and drain the rest of it from you.”
Getting up is when my body starts to feel the pain. My head throbs and my knuckles ache. It feels like bruises are already forming along the side of my ribs, and my lips are clearly swollen with heat and a slicing, stinging feeling.
Simply breathing has me coughing, and coughing only makes it so much fucking worse.
Fuck.
Reed kindly ignores my total patheticness and starts picking up the mess. Groaning, I make my way upstairs to the bathroom.
Under the fluorescent lights I see my reflection and it’s sad. Knox kicked my ass. But did he hear me?
I swear if he hurts her, more than–more than I already have–
With that thought, I growl, slamming my fists against the sink. The decorations lining the counter shudder.
A soft knock rasps against the door.
“Busy,” is all I can manage to yell.
“I need to pee before you spend the rest of the evening jacking off in the shower,” Dee says. She isn’t quiet but she isn’t demanding either.
Fuck that was one time. One time.
What is she going to say when she sees me like this? Will she feel what I’ve felt everytime I see her distressed from this constant torment she is going through?
The door drags open slowly. I resist the urge to hide my face to keep her from seeing the mess that I’m in. The mess I helped to create.
Without my glasses, her pretty features are a blur until she comes a bit closer.
“Move it or lose it, I’m five seconds from peeing on my…” Her words dissolve as she looks up at me. Then she smirks.
Cruelly.
She doesn’t look sad, no trace of empathy whatsoever. It would be a stretch to suggest that she even cares. But a smirk was not what I was expecting.
I’m in a state of bewilderment. Her reaction stuns me and I hover in the small doorway expecting more. More of what? Honestly, I’m still expecting some form of compassion.
Dee takes half a step forward. The very tip of her finger draws easy lines along my stinging wounds. She doesn’t shy away from the bit of dried blood nor does she apologize when I wince away from her as she hits the tenderest of spots.
I’m doing this for you. I want to scream the words out. I took this beating for her.
But it’s still my fault. I’m not an idiot to not see that.
“How does it feel to be reminded of your weakness?” she says, her smile growing eerily.
My body moves without command. I push her delicate hand away from my face, stepping forward one step then another as she retreats until her back hits the opposite wall in the dark hallway. I’m easily half a foot taller than her, likely more, so my frame looms over her.
Green, wild eyes stare back at me unafraid. She’s gotten tough. Everything around me becomes something distant now that I focus on her. There’s no pain, no guilt, no regret. The only thing we hear is the constant and unsteady rhythm of our breathing.
My palms grip her hips pinning her in place. I’m only aware that she notices the touch because she glances down. She lets me hold her, linger in her presence. Gently, she places her head against my shoulder finally leaning into me too.
The way her shoulders sag into me, I know she’s carrying more than she lets on.
Her chin tips up and the softest kiss presses to my lower lip. I flinch as pain shoots through me at the feel of her affection. She kisses the wound again and energy soars through my chest so hard that I don’t feel the pain this time as she slides her tongue across my lips and kisses me so deep that I thrust against the heat at the center of her thin night shorts.
DO NOT FUCK VIOLET DEMURE.
The rule flashes through my mind but when her small hand pushes between us, rubbing fully over my jeans and across the hardness of my cock, the rules and promises I once made Knox Reyes no longer exist.
