Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Not going to happen.” He shuddered. “My mind is contaminated. I won’t go poking around looking for something that isn’t real. That can’t be real.”
“But it is real.” I rubbed at my goosebump-riddled arms. “Kas...what you did to me last night—”
“What I did?” He punched himself in the chest. “Oh, so now it’s not about what we did, but what I did?” He stalked toward me. “Go on then, don’t let me stop you. Tell me what other stories you have. Let’s see if you can convince me of something I know goddamn well isn’t true.” His anger was a shield, his pain hiding behind it. He looked as if he was one touch away from shattering—as if being told he’d had what he desperately wanted only to find out he’d let it slip through his fingers was too much to bear.
Everything hurt.
Everything.
“Cat got your tongue?” he snipped.
I arched my chin, wrapping myself up in protection. I’d given him every piece of me last night. I’d done it because I’d sensed he’d be unreachable if I didn’t. And by doing so, I no longer belonged to me.
I was his.
And to have him throw that back in my face?
I choked, rubbing at the throbbing agony in my chest.
“Well?” he barked.
What had he asked? Something about what he’d done? Would he fold to his knees in remorse if I told him he’d raped me? Would he snap out of this godawful amnesia if I told him that I’d hugged him, slept with him, and given him access to my deepest fears, even after he’d done something so cruel?
What if everything we’d shared, every connection we’d formed was gone for good?
Just like that.
God.
I hid my anguish with a curt and brittle voice. “I’m doing my best not to use the truth to hurt you.”
“What truth?” His eyes flashed with fear as well as fury.
“The truth that everything changed last night. All of it.”
“I don’t understand.” His eyes narrowed, unable to hide the thorny discomfort building in him. He gave the impression he was all brawn and brutality, but what would it be like to be told events happened, only to have no memory of them? To have holes in the very fabric of your mind—so many, many holes.
I wanted to scream at him. To lay out every second of yesterday—the good and the bad—and force him to accept reality. To accept...me. To accept us.
But if I did, that would be for my benefit, not his.
It wouldn’t ease his pain.
It wouldn’t help his concussion or his sickness.
If he truly didn’t remember, hearing the truth would be horribly unsettling.
Once again, he’d found a way to strip me of all my power, leaving me lost on what to do.
“Are you going to tell me, Gemma?” he snapped. “Can’t dangle something like that and not follow through. Spit it out.”
“The truth, Kas? You want me to give you the truth?”
“Of course the damn truth.”
His harshness wasn’t him. I’d seen behind it. I knew who he was now, deep inside.
I looked at the carpet where he’d taken me by force. Where I’d screamed at him. Hit him. Begged him. All while he’d rutted into me with deranged ferocity. I looked at the wall where I’d willingly straddled him, sank on him, and hugged him as he’d broken.
And I gave him the truth...sugar-coated just a little. “We slept together right there on the carpet.” I winced. “Actually, it wasn’t sleeping together at that point. You took me by force, but it wasn’t your fault. I think...” My eyes tracked to the strewn rabbit again.
Oh, God.
The meat.
That was his trigger.
“I made you dinner.” I stepped toward him, ready to fight his blankness with facts. “You caught a rabbit yesterday. You commanded I gut and cook it. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I hated every second of it, but I did it...because you were right. You’d fed me every day for a week and it was my turn to ensure you were adequately cared for. I think the smell of the cooked meat triggered a memory. You were dreaming of being burned. Of a man named Levin. Of being molested—”
“Enough.” He held up his hand. “I’ve heard enough.”
“No. You haven’t. You need to remember.”
Please, remember.
“I tried to wake you, but you pulled me down and took me on the carpet. I tried to stop you, but you were unreachable.” My voice cracked as tears threatened, reliving that overwhelming sense of helplessness. “But you woke eventually. You woke, and God, you were so full of regret.” I moved another step toward him. “You were...wild with it. You couldn’t forgive yourself, so...” I reached out and touched his unbroken arm. “I forgave you instead. I initiated sex between us, and we slept together, right there, against the wall.”
He ripped his arm away. “Stop.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if his headache crushed him. “I can’t—”