Pure Illusion (30 page)

You Promised

It’s
within the very early hours of the morning when I make it home. After a long
shower, I stare at the midnight-colored sky from the window of my very own
bedroom. It’s been so long since I pried open the lace lavender curtains and
peered out my window. The twinkling stars look especially luminous tonight.
Below the shining stars is a glistening stream that curves around my entire
house. I can hear the current gliding over the smooth stones. Beyond the
soothing sound of the water, the crickets chirp in a chorus of harmony.

The
atmosphere shifts, transforming into something palpable and ominous. A very
strong awareness creeps in and chills my skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
Someone is here, inside my room with me. I am not alone. I now acknowledge that
sitting in the dark without any kind of light is a very huge mistake, a fatal
flaw in my resolve to live. My breathing turns ragged as my heart rate
accelerates. The disorientating pounding in my head makes it impossible to
think. But there is a rational part of my brain that works.

The Window.

You
can escape out the window.

When
I launch forward and fumble with unlocking the latches, two heavy arms shoots
out of nowhere and pull me into a viselike grasp. A powerful hand clamps over
my mouth, muffling my scream, the other arm wraps around my waist and imprisons
my back to a hard chest wall of pure muscle.

Oh
God!

This
is finally it!

I’m
going to die!

Soft
but very firm lips press to the shell of my ear. “Hush, Isabel.” It’s Hunter.
Instantly I recognize his voice. He slowly releases me. Blinded by rage and
fury, I spin around and slap him as hard as I can before he can prepare himself
for my attack. The sickening sound echoes, and my hand stings…a lot. It’s like
his face is made from granite. I flex my wounded hand and gasp as I fully
acknowledge what I just did. My natural instincts are to flee from danger. I
attempt to run past him, but Hunter grips the wrist of the hand I struck him
with and cruelly jerks me forward. My body slams against his. The collision leaves
me stunned and breathless.

He
tightens his hold around my wrist as he speaks. “Don’t ever in your fucking
life hit me again. Do you understand me, Isabel?”

I
mention for him to free my wrist, but he only tightens his grip. I sag
helplessly against his body. “Let me go!”

“ANSWER
ME!” He puts more pressure on my wrist. It feels like it’s going to snap at any
second.

Tears
erupt down my face as I wince in pain. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. You
scared me.” It comes out lower than a whisper.

His
dark eyes roam over my face until he is satisfied with whatever emotion he
found. Hunter takes a deep inhale and drops his hand. He takes a few steps back
until the edge of my mattress brushes the back of his legs. He flops down on my
bed. Hunter brings his hands to his forehead and presses in. “I’m sorry. That’s
a trigger for me.”

I
rotate my sore wrist, circulating the blood flow there. There will most likely
be bruising too. “What’s a trigger?” My throat feels tight and so raw.

He
pats the space next to him. Wary, I sit, fidgeting with my hands in my lap.
“Being hit is a major trigger for me,” he explains.

“I’m
sorry.” I am giving him a genuine apology, but I’m still sort of pissed at him
for scaring the hell out of me.

He
scrutinizes my face and then looks guilty. Hunter picks up my aching wrist,
softly kissing the inside of it and my stinging palm. My heart almost stops.
“You didn’t know.”

I
touch the darkening print on his face. “I didn’t mean to hit you, Hunter.”

“I
know.”

“Did
Grace hit you, too?”

He
narrows his eyes before he replies, “Every fucking day.” He collapses on top of
my bed, staring at the ceiling. “Harshness and cruelty was all I ever knew from
Grace. She never once hugged me or Hero. Later, when Hero was born, I learned
that when I was a newborn, I couldn’t digest formula either. My own mother
wouldn’t let us suckle from her to stop our fucking hunger. My dad had to buy
someone else’s breast milk. That thought alone is so repulsive. At a very young
age I was beginning to understand that Grace had…
issues
with us. I don’t
think she wanted me and Hero to begin with, so I don’t think it was difficult
at all for her to destroy us. At least she was more lenient with Naya. Hero and
I received the worst of it.”

I
carefully lie next to him, gazing at his hard jaw. My heart feels like it’s
about to split open from sadness.

Hunter
wraps an arm around my back, pressing me into his side and tucking my head
under his chin. I throw my leg over both of his, nuzzling closer. “I’m sorry,
Hunter. You didn’t deserve that. You and Hero and Naya didn’t deserve to be
beaten and battered.”

He
laughs a humorless laugh. “The beatings were tolerable. I wish it did stop at
the beatings.
But no.
Grace…Grace is more cunning than
that. She aims to kill.” His heart is beating so very fast and he takes rapid
shallow breaths.

My
fingers smooth back wet strands of hair from his soaked forehead. I push up a
little to stare into wide eyes that appear vacant. He gazes at the ceiling,
seeing nothing or maybe lost in his past. “Baby, what did she do?”

“She
keeps animal cages in a nearby barn behind the house. She’d drag us by our hair
and shove us in the crammed space. She’d lock the cages and leave us to suffer.
We’d all be hungry and scared. It was so dark, so, so, dark. I couldn’t see my
hand that was directly in front of my face. Naya and Hero would scream and cry
as loud as they could. There was nothing I could do to comfort them.

“We’d
be filthy with piss and vomit and shit, shaking and very hungry. No one ever
heard our screams. No one ever came to our rescue. Dad, he was always gone.
Had a habit of staying gone.
He was just a soulless shell of
a person. Mom would come back days later and hose us down.

“Only
after the grit was washed away were we allowed back in the house. The three of
us were very attentive to her sudden mood swings. We were walking on eggshells
every damn day. We didn’t know what would set her off, it seems like nothing
ever really does.

“But
something changed when I saw photos of you and your family sprawled across my
mom’s desk. You all looked happy. Everyone was smiling. And then, there you
were. Big smoky emerald green eyes that was too large for your delicate face,
with long and thick dark hair that cascades down your shoulders.

“Once
I saw your picture, something flickered to life inside of me. I knew I had to
protect you from her…protect you
all
from Grace. I
didn’t know what she was planning; I just knew I had to look out for you.

“The
first time we met I had been observing you for over a week. I didn’t mean to
get as close as I did, but I couldn’t resist you anymore. Like I said, I only
learned how to be harsh, so instead of a normal greeting, I pushed you off the
swing. You were crying and bleeding. I didn’t want your mom to come out because
I thought she’d tell my mom and back to the cage I’d go. I remember covering
your mouth and telling you not scream. I remember kissing your sores and then I
remember you touching my face and lips.” He closes his eyes briefly, unconsciously
seeks his cheekbones and mouth. “I’ve never been touched the way you touched
me, Isabel. I remember the feeling precisely from that point onward. It didn’t
matter if I was in the dark, soiled, cramped cage—your touch and love was with
me. And it was within the confines of your heart where I basked…where I yearned
to be forever.”

I’m
unable to stop the sobs from wrecking my body.

“Everything
got worse when Grace found out about our flourishing friendship. It was the
beginning of our freshmen year of high school. She told me I had to let you go,
or she’d hurt you just like she hurt me. I knew Grace was dangerous and I
didn’t know what she was capable of. I didn’t want to cause you more pain, so I
did as she asked. I knew I had to break you. I had to break you down so badly
that you wouldn’t dare to come back. Christ, you fought me on that. You
wouldn’t let me let you go. You made it so fucking hard. The desperation in
your eyes will forever haunt me. All I wanted was to be near you all the time.

“I
understood that I couldn’t anymore. I loved you so much that I stepped back and
released you. Doing so tore me up. The harshest beatings never felt that bad.
It felt like I was simply rotting away from the inside out. But there you were.
Freely laughing and dating my best friend, Falcon. God, I was furious. I wanted
to kill him and maybe you, too, just to stop my misery…just to get some relief.

“Everything
about what I said to you was a fucking illusion. Everything from the luxury
house and cars, to the polished Knights’ family portrait was an illusion. My
mom introduced me to Sally. Sally is just a younger version of my mother. She
fucking gutted me in all the right places.

“If
Sally didn’t go a day without seeing me, she’d get severely hysterical. She’d
slam herself into brick walls; she’d deliberately break her own fucking bones.
I was so scared at times. I’d take her to the hospital. People thought what
they thought, but I never laid a hand on her. Sally was my own personal hell.
When she proposed to me and promised to quit banging herself up, I had no
choice.

“On
the outside we may appeared happy but we were anything but. It was all an
illusion. When Tyler died, I fucking snapped. Everything came crashing down.
Grace’s threats carried no weight anymore. As far as I was concerned, she
already harmed you. I wasn’t afraid of her anymore.” He pauses, his voice
dropping a notch. “I decided to stop fighting the urge and came to see you, but
when I got to your house, you were in the tub and barely breathing. I had to
take you with me…but I had a major problem: I couldn’t stop breaking you down.
How was I supposed to fix something I couldn’t stop breaking?

“When
Falcon stepped in, I gave you up again. And, again, you fought me; you wouldn’t
let me let you go. So I gave in, but when Sally came, everything came rushing
back. A small part of me feared that she would go loony and tell Grace. No. I
knew she was going to tell Grace. Then there you were, fighting again, mouthing
off to my psycho ex. I didn’t want her to hurt you, or even think about hurting
you. So I did the only thing I know how to do: break you. Resilient you are.
You were getting stronger. You didn’t break…you’ll never break that way again.”

He
wipes at the wetness leaking down my cheeks. “Stop crying, baby.”

I
don’t know what to say or do, but a wise Hunter Knight once told me to hold on
when everything else fails. I hold Hunter as tight and as close as I possibly
can, pressing desperate kisses on his face and neck and across the T-shirt of
his chest.

He
rolls me on my back, making a deep gravelly noise in the back of his throat. My
fingers curl in his silky hair, urging his mouth to mine. Hunter’s hands trail
up my thighs, dragging up the hem of my blue nightie. Urgent fingers tug at the
waistband of my panties. But I have to warn him about something.

“I’m
on my period. It’ll be over by tomorrow.”

He
gazes into my eyes, his expression a brutal mask of lust. “You’re mine. I’ll
take you anyway I can get you.” Without another word my underwear is hastily
yanked down my legs. He quickly removes the tampon, discarding it in a small
black trash bin beside my bed. With a soft pop of the button of his jeans and
zipper, he thrusts his impossibly hot erection inside of me in one fluid
movement.

Our
breaths hitches, then he shifts on his back, taking me with him.
“You on top this time.”

I
understand that this is a gift and that Hunter is letting me take control…but I’m
so absurdly full and stretched to my limit that I find any kind of movement to
be nearly impossible. My long hair is like a dark veil that conceals our faces
as I incline and brace my shaky hands on his solid chest for support.

He
grunts, sharply trusting his hips upward. “Baby, I need you to move. Fucking
ride me.”

That
simple motion causes my entire body to tremble on the verge of a blazing molten
orgasm. Breathless and sweating, I collapse on top of him. “I can’t,” I whine.
“You’re just too big. I either have to pee or come.”
I never felt so full.

He
gives me a winded laugh and then grips the cheeks of my ass, effortlessly
bouncing me up and down his incredibly hard length. Every muscle in my fiber
quivers and I climax, moaning and whimpering incoherent things.

Hunter
flips me on my back, aggressively fucking me through my orgasm. I wrap my shaky
legs around his waist, crossing my legs at the ankles. Reaching up, I touch his
dazzling face, caressing his full lips and tracing his eyebrows. I press tender
kisses there too. I lap up the sheen of sweat in the hollow of his neck, biting
down on the erratic pulse there.