Delusive (18 page)

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Authors: Courtney Lane

BOOK: Delusive
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With a grin, she sauntered out of the room, throwing me her “cat ate the canary” smile as she walked by.

Elias’s attention leisurely drifted to me and the choking grip he held on his tumbler drained the color from his hands. “Follow her out,” Elias told his companions with his cold eyes remaining on me.
 

It was apparent his cronies delayed for a moment too long for Elias’s liking. Straightening his spine, he bellowed, “NOW!”

Grumbling, they filed out of the game room.

“You evaded Jaco and didn’t return my calls or texts,” he said in a low and quiet voice, brimming with a tangible vexation. “For a while, I thought you were in a hospital somewhere—that is until one of my associates tracked you down.” He changed his expression and appeared a little less furious than before. “What’s going on with you, Hanley?”

“Nothing’s going on. I was just…out and about,” I said.
 

Taking his time, he slid off the stool and walked around the billiard table. “Is that
all
you have to say to me?” The glass he held hung tensely at his side as he plodded toward me. Stopping just a few feet from my position, he glowered at me. “Something very interesting happened today. A video was shared with nearly the entire town; it was a video of your work associate giving head to several men within a short period of time.” He briefly regarded me. “While the fact that she’s a whore, who has no qualms about whose cock she permits inside her mouth, isn’t news to me”—smiling inscrutably, he searched my eyes—“I can tell by the shocked look on your face that it is news to you.
 

“I warned you against hanging around her. You ignored my very strong advice and had lunch with her at Sed’s Diner. And, apparently, you decided I wasn’t worth your time today.” He clucked his tongue, shaking his head at me. “You have a lot of things to learn, Hanley. Too many things. I don’t know how much plainer I can be. Who I surround myself with is a reflection of the type of man I am. I do not need anyone thinking my girlfriend is a whore”—he paused at the word whore, baiting me with a sneer—“who has a very difficult time listening.”

“I had a bad day,” I snapped, putting my hands on my hips. “I didn’t come here so you could swing your dick and piss on me like I’m your fucking property.”

He quirked a brow as the corner of his mouth twitched into a frown. I could hear the cracking of the glass as the tumbler cracked and fractured in his hand. Red appeared from the sides of his palms as he continued to glare at me, unaffected by the self-inflicted wounds on his palms. Shards of the glass fell to the ground and were decorated with his blood. He stepped over it. The crunching and crackling sound underneath his shoes affected me, revealing the truth behind my strong front.
 

The tension in his face sharpened his features. “You’re beginning to behave like someone who serves no other purpose than to be fucked like the worthless bitch she is and discarded the next day.”

My hands balled into fist, and he noticed. It was clear he thought my anger was comical.
 

“Finally. There’s the real you. Do you want to hit me?” Stepping closer, his head turned to the right, giving me better access to his cheek. “Go ahead, Hanley. Hit me. Don’t be surprised if you wind up with a sore ass immediately after.”

“Fuck you,” I gritted out through my teeth.

His attention darted over my shoulder as though he were sizing up my future path. “Right now would be a good time for you to run.” His eyes narrowed, becoming mere slits as his lips firmed. “I’ll give you head start. Because if you let me catch you or stand here because you think you don’t have anything to fear, I’m going to show you the true meaning of discipline.” He stepped forward, pressing his body against me. “And when I’m done breaking you in, I’m going to fuck you, hard.” When I tried to recede, he grabbed my head, forcing me to stand still.

I had nothing to say, nor could I do what he asked and leave. His promise of danger pulled me in a way I wished I could ignore.

“You know what I’ve been thinking?” He pressed his palms against my cheeks and leaned forward until the heat of his breath skirted down my face. “With the way you’ve been sucking my cock like a two dollar hooker who’s done it far too many times in one night, I might finally slide my cock inside you and find that you’ve had way too many insignificant individuals fuck you before me. What a tragedy that would be.” He pressed in harder, ensuring my cheeks stung with pain. “I don't make repeat performances with women who I don’t enjoy fucking. It would likely add to the boredom I’m beginning to experience when it comes to dealing with you.”

“Considering you’ve had your fingers inside me,” I spat at him, “your insult means less than shit to me. Also considering you’ve been calling and texting me like a madman, I’m pretty sure you think I’m very entertaining. As for what I did when I was with Skylar, I went to a diner with her, because she was having a rough time. I didn’t want to be with you today, because you drain the life out of me. I wanted the day to be about me. End of story. I don’t believe the reason you’re so adamant about me not hanging around her. Did you fuck her? Or…are you worried that I want to fuck her?”

Sucking in a deep breath, he made one large step forward, wedging me between him and the supporting wall of the entryway. The expression on his face became disconcerting. I fought hard to continue to conceal the fact he scared me, but it was a battle I had officially lost.
 

He dropped his hands from me and touched his forehead to mine. Expelling a long and noisy exhale, he glared at me. “You should run,” he warned, his voice husky and dark. “Because if you continue to speak to me as if I don’t deserve your utmost respect, I’m going to make good on all of my threats to you and…that isn’t all. I’ll start taking away the things I own. The car I gave you? Gone. Seeing as though you were never given the real title, just a dummy one my brother made up for you, think very carefully about what you’re going to do next.”

I blinked at him, my mouth falling open in awe.

“That’s right, Hanley,” he said, curling his lips cruelly. “You paid nine-hundred. Well, guess who paid the remainder? And let’s not forget who also paid for the repairs the car needed because you wanted to linger in a sketchy neighborhood.”

“You are a fucking asshole of epic proportions, Elias,” I stated brusquely, my voice shaky.

He ensured I couldn’t breathe with the way his chest mashed against my body and pinned me against the wall. My hands flew up to push him away. He grabbed my wrists, pulling them down to my sides. The burning grip on my wrists made me wince. As I looked down, I saw the blood he spread on my skin—his blood.
 

“I’ve been wondering about the kind of game you’re playing with me. I mildly liked the one you were playing before, but I don’t care for this one. It’s sloppy, immature, and beneath me.” Nearing the side of my face, he made me jump with the way his lips touched the outer rim of my ear. “But if it’s a game you want, then I came to fucking play.” He released me and took a step backward.

I looked from the purple marks on my skin—due to his harsh grip—to the splattering of his blood he left there.
 

My eyes darted from his bloody hands to his face. “You’re fucking crazy,” I mumbled, shaking my head in astonishment. Taking the car key from my key ring, I threw it at his chest. It hit the ground with a hard thud. We glared at each other in silence. Both of us too stubborn to diffuse the situation.

Deciding against ignoring my pride again, I knew there was only one thing left to do… I walked away.

TWELVE

THE SOUND OF MY sneakers hitting the gravel echoed ominously on the quiet road. I had no idea where I wound up. I only knew I was a few blocks from Elias’s home. I roughly used the edge of my T-shirt to remove Elias’s blood from my cheek.

A car passed, nearly hitting me, and soaked me with water when the tire hit a mud puddle.
 

I stumbled down off the road, remaining in front of the tree line. Standing underneath a tree, I rested my forehead against the bark. Glancing down at my mud-stained and drenched T-shirt, I rolled my eyes.
 

The pitting ache in my stomach wouldn’t diminish no matter how many times I rubbed at it. It wasn’t something I could touch or something I could cure. Elias did this to me, and only he could make it go away.
 

The rhythmic sound of wipers and the low hum of a car closing in on my location made me still. When the slam of the car door resounded close by, I turned around.
 

Elias stood just ten feet in front of me, his face wrought with regret and anguish.
 

I wanted to scream at him, but seeing him standing there full of melancholy, with his T-shirt and jeans soaked to his skin, I felt the painful ache in my abdomen just a little more than I had before.
 

Keeping me in his gaze, he strode toward me in short slow steps. His bandaged hand reached up to cup my face gently.
 

It was clear to me and even more evident in his eyes—we were both fighting against what had become stifling between us. Neither of us knew what to do with it, and neither of us were okay with the lack of control we had over it.
 

“You’re a pompous asshole,” I stated sharply.

“So you continuously tell me in very colorful ways.” Taking my hand from my side, he placed the car key on my palm and closed my hand.
 

“I don’t want it.” I withdrew my hand from his hold, taking several steps backward until my spine met the trunk of the tree. “It’s not mine. I don’t take handouts.”

“It was always yours.” Sauntering forward, he reached up to grab the trunk and trapped me against his body. “I want you to have it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Why?” His question was posed with such innocence, I believed he really didn’t understand.

“Because it comes with things I don’t want.”

“Why don’t you want it any longer?” His voice changed. Unlike the Elias I usually faced, the one before me came across as fragile and vulnerable.

I shook my head, my eyes darting to the ground. “The way you spoke to me—
speak
to me sometimes… The man you become at times scares the hell out of me.”

“That particular scene with the stripper won’t happen again,” he assured me with sharp, pointed conviction. “She was a…friend of Jaco’s that I usually don’t allow to hang around the house. You won’t see me with her again. That’s a promise.”

It was more than just the stripper, but the worrisome part was he stated it with the finality of someone who believed it was the only thing he’d done wrong. “You’re so careful with your words. I don’t know if I believe you won’t do anything to hurt me again. Because…you’re completely fucked up. You can’t help yourself.”

His blazing stare searched my eyes in silence for many moments. Allowing me breathing room, he ran his hands up and through his hair messing it up in a perfect way. “I don’t know where this will lead, and it irritates me.” Sighing, his voice turned softer and gentler. “I want you to be with me. I’ve been very forgiving about the promises you broke to me and the disrespect. Patience flows both ways.”

“The blame game? Really?”

“If you can’t tell”—he pointed between him and me—“this is different for me. I’ve never really had anyone in my life like you. I don’t really have anyone else at all. The people I surround myself with aren’t real. The relationships I had were never real.”

Feeling wretched, I hovered my hand over my aching heart. Having not the faintest clue of how he could evoke unfamiliar feelings inside of me with his eyes, his expression, and the tonality of his voice. He sounded broken. I remembered that sound. I was drawn to it, because it exemplified what I felt inside. “You still have your family.”

“The word family is a misnomer to me.” He dropped his eyes to the ground. “That house was theirs. They abandoned me the moment I turned thirteen. But, really, I’m referring to their physical presence. If I think about what a parent should and shouldn’t be, I don’t think I ever knew. My uncle Silvio and his wife, Benedita, were the ones who took care of me when I was too young to take care of myself. But she nor he could stay for long. They weren’t citizens and…” He took an elongated breath, visibly collecting himself from plummeting off the edge and showing me the exact depth of his pain. He didn’t need to reveal it all, I could catch glimpses of a very dark and deep void.

“Even though my parents left when I was a teenager, they abandoned me mentally from the moment I was born. At this point in my life, I’m lucky if I see them more than a few times a year. With anyone else it would make sense, but we live in the same state. If they bother, it’s usually due to an error made on my part.”

“I’m sorry, Elias. I really am. In a perfect world, everyone would get good parents, but it never works out that way. I know that pretty well.” Fiddling with my hands, I kept my eyes focused down on my rain soaked shirt. “I can’t help but feel like this is your way of placing the blame. We’re adults now. We can’t—”

“But we do, don’t we?” he questioned. “I didn’t tell you that because I needed your pity. It’s not about them. You’re right, I’m at an age where I can’t place the fault with them.” He shrugged it off like it didn’t mean anything, and despite the way he almost fooled me into thinking so, there was a small sliver of truth in his eyes. “I just want to explain why I am the way I am with you.”

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