Hate Me Like You Do, page 14
I’m going to be sick.
Knox follows my step, edging closer, speaking softer. “That guy last year, the one everyone whispers about, it wasn’t a random kid.”
Knox Reyes is a murderer.
I blink the echoing voices away.
“It was someone causing problems for me and my new life. I have a golden life here as the son of the richest man. Things are expected of me. I have to protect a fucking name.”
This is the most he’s ever said at one time. And none of it makes sense.
I blink, watching his throat bob. Would this be the start of my golden life? What’s expected of me? What does Ronan Reyes want from me?
Restraining myself from the millions of things I want to say and ask, I drop my hands to my side.
Knox talks and I fiddle with my shirt. Anything to keep my fingers busy, to keep them from reaching out to him. To stop myself from pulling him closer and just dropping my exhaustion into his arms.
“Everything was fine. Until my twin brother turned eighteen. I told my dad Nic needed me. He needed my help. He needed money. A lot of fucking money. He was in trouble. But my father has a view on life. Trouble will always be there. And Nic, he was the kind of trouble we didn’t want to always be there.”
He holds my gaze, searching for something behind my eyes. I watch him just as closely. A sleek dangerous boy with so many emotions bottled up inside him.
“So you…killed him?” I barely hear the words come out of me. Am I even sure he heard me speak?
Everyone’s afraid of Knox. People always keep their distance. A result of that nasty rumor that went around school. A rumor. That’s what I truly thought it was. Just a fake facade he used to intimidate people as if being so ridiculously rich didn’t already do that on its own.
It’s not a rumor, not a lie, or mask that hides the true Knox. He truly is what they say he is.
His eyes are deep depths of lostness, his face angling away from my stare. His whole body leans away from the words that hang in the cool air between us.
Knox Reyes is suddenly not a dangerous boy at all. He’s a murderous man. He’s deadly.
And he’s trying to save me.
Twenty
Dee
My bag is full. Knox’s adoptive father being my actual birth father only makes me leaving a tad more confusing. Ultimately, I decide it’s still best for me to go. Knox was right all along; I don’t belong here with them.
I have skills that surpass living this spoiled cushy life. That’s the excuse I keep telling myself. I want to live this life. Maybe even with Landon, Reed, and Knox at my side.
It’s just not in the cards for us.
The entire walk home from the bus stop I talked myself in and out of leaving on repeat. Knox is a killer and also my adoptive brother. Which only slightly freaks me out. We aren’t blood, I tell myself as I relive the aching pleasure that still has some sort of pulsing echo between my legs. My mind is a dirty reel of that moment. Then the moment after where my life twisted into some messed up soap opera.
The textured strap of my duffle bag digs into my hand as I walk down the stairs into the kitchen. Knox’s back is to me as he stares out the window of the foyer. A scratching sound repeats over and over again as he picks at the edge of the chair.
It’s a telling habit I’ve found.
I’ve never seen him so nervous.
He does a double take when he hears me drop the bag at the bottom of the stairway. His gaze against my body warms my skin as he looks me over head to toe.
Do I expect him to kiss me goodbye? He wouldn’t do that. His face is as unreadable as ever.
“You’re still leaving?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m prepared to kill some long-lost family member that might pop into my life at some point.” I laugh at my failing attempt at humor.
God, who the hell brings murder up as a joke?
Knox raises an eyebrow his next word firm and certain. “Good.”
He stands and every slow step he takes drums through my heart. Until he’s right in front of me. Looking down on me like he’s memorizing the sadness I know is in my eyes.
A warm hand brushes over my hip, skims along the flesh of my stomach before he lifts his palm to my neck. The sweeping brush of his thumb against my windpipe sends tinging want all through me. He’s close. So close.
But he never leans in to make that space between our lips disappear.
It’s just one last tormenting moment.
It’s likely the best goodbye I’ll get out of him. I can’t bring myself to look for Landon or Reed or ask where they are. It hurts too much. And besides, what’s left to say?
My chin tips up and his gaze follows my defiant movement as I brush my lips lightly against his. It’s sparking want. Tainted desire. Perfect lust. I’ll kiss him the way I always wanted to.
One last time.
From the side door that leads in from the garage I hear someone speaking. Every sentence is an order, a stern crisp command with no question behind it. I want to ask the question that lingers on my tongue but the horror in Knox’s face stops me.
He pulls back from me so fast that a gush of cool air sweeps in where his body once touched mine.
A tall man in a perfectly tailored suit walks in, a cell phone glued to his ear. His eyes search the house, easily sliding over Knox until they find me. Then his gaze becomes so focused on me the intensity holds me still.
Knox takes a step closer to me, tension lining his body. He flinches slightly when his father hangs up the phone and barks his next order.
“Knox leave. Don’t come home tonight.”
Ronan Reyes. My father is everything I never thought he could be, just as intimidating as Knox said he was, and his features look monstrous under the shadows cast over his face.
I can see myself in him though.
Every feature I have that doesn’t match my mother is undoubtedly him.
Knox is frozen next to me, his muscles twitching with small spasms. What kind of man could instill this sort of alarming trepidation into a cold blooded killer?
The man who made him.
His father, my father, speaks again, “I need to talk with your sister. Now. Get. Out.”
Your sister.
A pain sinks through my stomach.
He confirms he’s my father even without knowing I know. Does he even intend to tell me?
A small smile quirks at the edge of his lips. Not full enough to dimple his cheeks nor small enough to not be noticeable.
Ronan steps forward, clasping his son’s shoulders under his large palms. “We don’t need to pretend like you don’t know already, Knox. You think I don’t know you listen in on my conversations and spy on me with every opportunity you have?” His rumbling chuckle sounds genuine.
Knox shrugs his father’s hands off of him with pure tension lining his body, looking away, his face paling. But he doesn’t move.
“You like her, son?” That tiny smirk he had twists into a sneer. “You like her more than you liked Nic?”
His nasty words curl my lips and I realize very quickly why Knox wanted me to leave. And he was right. I should have left.
I tense as he speaks, nervous that my own movements will snare me in some sort of trap and this man will sweep me up and eat me alive after he cooks me over a small kindling fire. My ears catch the small noise as Knox grinds his teeth together.
“You like her more than you like yourself?” Ronan asks slowly, connivingly.
Knox’s beautiful eyes cut into a hateful glare as he meets his father’s waiting gaze.
Knox Reyes doesn’t like anyone that much. I’m not sure any part of him cares for me or even himself more than a small inkling. Still a small part of me wonders how true that statement is. My heart flutters stupidly at the thought. Then it sinks just as fast.
“You must, to be threatening me with that look on your fucking face right now.” Ronan raises his voice with a step closer until they are toe to toe. The hem of his suit jacket sweeps back revealing a sleek black gun.
Lawyers and guns. It’s alarming and unfitting.
The yelp that he startles out of me isn’t enough. The hand I reach out as if I can stop him it isn’t enough. Nothing I do is enough to stop him from rearing his arm back and bringing the gun down in one violent sweep that slams into the side of Knox’s head.
Knox’s body falls to the floor, a small line of blood dripping down his forehead from where the gun busted his skin open.
I want to scream but my pounding heart tells me there’s no time.
I’m next. I’m next. It’s a racing thought that pushes me into action.
My feet move quickly, fear motivating me to dart toward the door. It’s so close, mere feet away. An anxious scream rips from my throat as cold fingers wrap around my wrist. A sudden jerk and I stumble to meet the hard tile floor.
His eyes are so similar to mine and they shine down at me with a hint of something vile living inside him. With my free hand I claw at the fingers tightening on me.
“You know, Violet, this is not how I wanted our first meeting to go.” He forces the words out as he drags me forward.
A servant walks from the kitchen stopping abruptly as they take in the scene. Ronan holds up a hand and the servant looks away before walking to the foyer to continue casually dusting.
“Let me go. Please, just let me go.” I struggle to pull away, kicking my feet against the floor to slow every movement as much as possible. To delay the inevitable.
“It seems my son has put a certain sort of fear into you.” He pauses, continuing to ignore my attempts to untangle myself from his harsh hold. Lowering his face to my own, he hisses, “Reyes’ do not fear anything. You’ll learn that.”
I swallow, freezing under his disgraceful watch. Nails dig harshly into my skin, his hand feeling impossibly tight on my arm.
And then he starts to drag me across the slick tile floor.
He opens a door I’ve never went in to. It leads to the basement. The air cools as we descend into the dark stairway.
The shaking and screaming leaving my body only gets more wild, frantic, as if I’m falling down a deep dark hole and the only thing that could save me is to find something to hold on to. I lose sight of Knox’s limp body in the kitchen, his breathing barely visible, as my body painfully smacks and bounces off of stairs that lead down into the uncharted territory of the mansion.
At the bottom of the stairs, he opens the door to a room where darkness seems to eat away every bit of light that enters it. His fingers let go only when I’m falling into the blackness ahead of us. Throbbing pain slices into my temple as I hit the cold floor.
The door swiftly slams closed, the clanking of two locks clicking into place.
My eyes widen as my breaths shake out into the total empty darkness.
“No, don’t do this.” I pant.
“Don’t do this to me.” I gasp.
“You don’t understand!” I scream.
Small wood splinters dig underneath my nails as I claw at the door. I see nothing. I hear nothing. Cold air licks against my skin in this indistinguishable space.
The piece of me that wants for a father, that one smidge that dreamed of being loved by someone, anyone who wasn’t my mother sobs this one question now.
Begs it.
“Daddy?” My shaking voice is almost unrecognizable. The sound coming from someone who isn’t fully me.
“Violet, your mother hid you from me for too long. We have a lot of catching up to do. After you learn what it means to be a Reyes.” Ronan’s voice is a humming steady sound.
Then his footsteps fade away.
This time, the terror rises and falls like a giant wave of the ocean meant to seize me and drown me in its deadly hold. It grabs hold of me and drags me down, back to the old shower room of my youth. I have the dirty scent of unwashed hands and the sharp tang of urine caught in my nose. Hands grip at my arms. My teeth jaw together, my whole body shivering with fear.
I’m not that little girl any more. I’m not that little girl any more. I’m not that little girl any more.
I scream out those constant fears that live inside me. I scream and pound against the door but no one ever comes.
Short clipped breaths hit my lungs. Anxiety claws at my chest. Tears rush down my face,
In the end, the darkness wins.
He wins.
Part Two
Love Me Like You Can’t
Twenty-One
Dee
I think I’m dead.
That’s the only explanation I can find for the numbness that’s settled in where total fear usually lurks inside my chest. The feeling snuck in on me. Unpacked its suitcases and made itself at home without me even realizing it.
It’s a strange thing. To actually feel… nothing. I’d say it's a relief but that would require more than this measly kernel of paralyzing apathy.
They say our body takes over sometimes during times of excruciating pain. There are times we black out in an attempt to protect ourselves from agony.
Maybe that’s what’s happened to me.
Or maybe I’m dead. Stuck in some sort of purgatory. A ghost meant to walk this plane for the rest of time. At least if I’m a ghost, I can watch Reed have sex without pretending to be sleeping or totally uninterested. See? Bright side.
Kind of.
Not really.
Except in reality I’m alive. I’m awake too. My chest is rising and falling in slow even breaths, my eyes blinking into the never ending darkness. My heartbeat a steady, relentless rhythm. But I’m so shut off from my surroundings, I can’t even speak. I can’t feel.
I only exist.
A sliver of light splits the tenebrous room, the shining fluorescent glow hurts my eyes but I’m not worried about it. I’m not even bothering to squint against the pain. It could be a house fire and I’d let it consume me in this moment. For a quick second, I wish it was a fire to end it all.
“Good morning, Pretty Girl,” the man hums, dropping down to crouch just in front of me, a shadowed outline against the light. His expensive cologne suffocates my lungs and I don’t flinch back when his steady palm pushes back the tangle of hair from my face. His hands are rough like Knox’s but not hidden beneath endless tattoos. “You’re better now. It only took three days but I knew you had it in you. This is strength. This is what strength feels like, Pretty Girl.”
The emptiness inside me dares to disagree but I don’t say a word. Weakness is all that consumes me. Weakness is all I can give. I look straight ahead into the darkness I’ve hated so much for so long.
And for the last three days, it’s all I’ve seen. It’s wrapped around me and devoured me in its bitter cold until it stole away my tears, uncontrollable shivers, and gasping breaths.
Eventually my body just… stopped.
My thoughts circle back to everything that brought me here: Mom, the drug addict locked away in prison, my new home in this house with the darkest basement I’ve ever fucking seen, and a dad who also happens to be a monster, and the boys.
My boys. No, not mine. Those boys. Those cruel, cruel boys who tried to ruin me. Knox, Landon, and Reed. They tried to ruin me to save me. Still, look where that got me. The thoughts are confusing. I blink, trying to push it all away.
In the past three days, I never did black out. Unconsciousness never did come to rescue me. And neither did Knox. Or Reed. Or Landon. No one and nothing came to save my sorry ass.
This room is just a room. Empty with only one door to exit. One very, very locked door. Sturdy too. My bruised shoulder is proof of that.
They left me with no food, no bathroom. A foul smell clings to me from that neglectful abuse.
I thought they left me to die. Eventually, I laid down ready to accept that fate. I was sure that Knox was dead after the blow to his head. That had to be the only reason why he let his dad keep me down in this torment.
But he’s here now. I can sense him with every shift of his shoes against the cold concrete beneath my cheek. Does he feel remorse? Does he feel anything?
I don’t move an inch as the man continues to stroke my tangled blonde hair back from my face.
“Are you ready to talk to me about your mother?”
My mother. Of course, this is her fault.
I should have known.
“After another postponed trial date, I drove into the city this morning to visit her. Again.” His calm voice jars across that single word and it seems to take him a moment to recover, his fingers never stopping as he pets my hair in long strokes of his hand. “She won't see me though. Can you believe that? Can you believe that, son?”
The men's dress shoes squeak slightly against the floor as he twists back. The breath in my lungs halts and I think for a single second Knox might speak for the first time since everything happened. Will he agree? Will he argue? Will he apologize?
But silence only carries on. His body is a silhouette in the fluorescent glow that pours in behind him, his every feature a heinous shadow.
“She refuses to see me. After everything I’ve done for her. Not much of a kind welcome from a fucking woman who claimed to love me once.”
My stomach becomes an uneasy tornado of apprehension as his conversation becomes colder and colder with every word he says.
“This morning, you’re going to come out of your room here and get yourself all cleaned up. I have a few maids waiting in your room to help fetch you anything you need.” He twirls another strand of hair between his fingertips. “You know, Knox told me you hated the dark but I never thought it’d have this kind of behavior change in you. Good call, son.”
My teeth grind together as the first real emotion in days twists through me.
Hate. Festering, hideous hate.
I fucking hate Knox Reyes.
“Me and you are going to take a drive into the city. I thought you’d want to see your mom. I want to see your mom. And before we leave Puduka Penitentiary, she’s going to promise me something. Something very important.”
