Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Whatever,” he mutters, frowning at me, and stalks off into the night.
I watch him go then turn back to the house. “Did you hear that?” I call out. “Time’s up, Arsen. We need to talk.”
A board creaks nearby. I wait, but there’s nothing.
Later, after I’ve gone to bed, I feel someone breathing. “Come find me tomorrow,” he whispers and presses his lips to my neck.
I sit up straight, heart racing. Sweat beads my skin.
“Arsen? Is that you?”
But the room’s empty.
Just another ghost.
I crawl through the passageways. Spiderwebs stick to my hair. I sneeze twice when dust gets up my nose. I’ve gotten better about avoiding all the old nails.
Earlier, I heard some of the guards talking. They’re big, tough guys, and both seemed freaked out. “Weird fucking noises,” one said to the other. “Like the goddamn walls are full of people or some shit.”
“Bro, I heard it too. Like someone’s crawling around in there.”
“Spooky as hell. I knew this place was haunted. Always felt fucking wrong.”
I smile to myself as I slip my way into the forbidden wing. If only those guards knew how right they were.
This house is full of bodies.
It doesn’t take long. I find him sitting alone in a small room at the back side of the house. The window overlooks the garden. Moonlight streams in through the open blinds.
He’s sitting on a narrow twin bed. The covers are light blue with little puffy clouds. It looks like it was a little boy’s room a long time ago, but now it’s mostly empty. Whatever was left of his childhood was cleared out years back.
“I know I’m fucking up,” he says quietly as I slip out of the closet. “I’ve done a lot of that lately.”
“It’s okay, Arsen.”
He smiles but doesn’t look at me. “All this time, I kept telling myself a story about who I am. Do you want to hear it?”
“I know who you are already.” I go to him and sit down on the bed. I put a hand on his knee and he looks at me. His eyes are red and haunted.
“I told myself that I was special, that I was the son of the patron, and pain would only make me stronger. I told myself that I had to hurt if I was going to learn how to lead men. I told myself that my father knew what was best. All those years, I hated him, but I also looked up to him. Because he was my father. He raised me, and I wanted to live up to his expectations. Until one day, I understood that it wasn’t really possible, and I killed him. Can you imagine the guilt? It ate at me like stomach acid spilling into my veins. And now I find out that I didn’t actually kill my dad. Just the man that raised and abused me.”
“He was your father,” I say and lean against his side.
Arsen wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me tight. “The Sarkissian name’s been everything to me. The Brotherhood is my entire world. When Sona told me that I’m actually half Russian and I’ve never been who I thought I was, it felt like my head was splitting in half.”
“But you are who you’ve always been. This doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re wrong. It changes everything.” He brushes my hair from my face and kisses me gently. “I don’t have to be something I’m not.”
His words are all jumbled in my head. I lean closer, heart racing, and I kiss him again. He pulls me into his lap and I straddle his hips. I grind into him as his hands explore my body.
“I needed this,” I whisper as his mouth buries mine with a deep and vicious kiss. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too. But I was never far.”
“I know. You fucking creep.”
He laughs lightly and pulls my hair. I gasp as he bites my lower lip. “You’re so fucking mouthy,” he says, a growl low in the back of his throat. “I missed silencing you.”
He slams his tongue in my mouth. I whimper into that kiss and push myself tighter. All my sadness, all my fear and my worry from the last few days, I throw it at him. I launch myself into him like a vicious little snake, writhing against his hard body.
He undresses me. His hands palm my breasts and he sucks my nipples. I desperately strip off my jeans and he turns me, throws me onto the bed, and rips my knees apart.
His mouth devours my pussy. “I thought about doing this every fucking night,” he says, tonguing me up and down. His fingers slide inside and bury me. “I watched you sleep and wanted to wake you up with my lips sucking your fucking clit. I wanted to hear you moan and whisper my name. It’s been killing me.”