by Bea Paige
My teeth begin to chatter as I feel a layer of dampness settle over my skin the further I walk into the mist. Footsteps sound on the gravel behind me, then I hear nothing but the softness of my breaths as I try to regain control, knowing Anton won’t leave me be.
“You said you wouldn’t run,” Anton calls, his voice taking on a predatory rumble.
My demon snarls at the challenge, forcing my feet to stop moving, pulling me up sharp.
“I’m not running from you,” I retort, trying to control the shake in my voice.
“Who then?” he asks, his voice getting closer even though I can’t see him clearly yet.
I stand glued to the spot, twisting my head from side to side, feeling disoriented both by the thick mist and by what I’d seen in Amber’s gaze.
“Rose, tell me who!” Anton persists.
I turn my body towards the direction of his voice as a silhouette materialises. A first, I can’t see him clearly, just an outline of a man who’s more ghost than human. Then slowly, Anton appears before me, his hair and clothes covered in a fine layer of water droplets. I look up at him aware that we are very much alone. The mist surrounds us in an impenetrable blanket. Everything is quiet except for the loud drumming of my heart.
“Who?” he persists.
“Myself,” I whisper in return.
Anton stares at me for a long time. “No, you are nothing alike.”
His response makes me feel worse, because he’s right.
“That look in her eyes. It reminded me of the person I once was, the child who lost herself…” My voice trails off at the sudden surge of sadness, and I drop my head. Right now, my demon is nowhere to be found. Spooked by the memory of a girl who died a long, long time ago, she abandons me. The loss I feel is expansive and I stumble slightly. She isn’t gone for good, I know she’s still there deep within. But I need her now. I need her strength.
“What happened to you, Rose?” he asks, gently.
Grasping my arm, he steadies me. There’s so much kindness in his voice, I almost lean into him, but something stops me from doing so. Instead, I raise my gaze to meet his, and what I see has me stepping back. I’m looking into the eyes of a man who wants to absorb all my grief, my pain, my happiness, every last piece of me and it isn’t because he means to help me, but because he means to help himself.
“No!” I say sharply, shrugging him off.
“No?” he questions, unsure, uncertain of my constant changing reaction to him.
“Don’t do that, Anton.”
“Do what?” he retorts.
“Kill me with kindness. I won’t be another victim. I won’t let you take the scraps of me. I can only give you what I’m willing to share. Do you understand?”
“I want to comfort you…” he stumbles over the words, they are as alien in his mouth as they are for me to hear. Comfort isn’t something I’m used to, and neither is it something he can give without wanting far more in exchange. Amber is a proof of that.
“I see you, Anton. I know what you want from me, there’s no hiding it. You told me the ugly truth. I’ve seen it for myself written in the vacancy of Amber’s stare. She was a reminder of a girl I once knew, that’s it. I don’t need your kindness. I need the truth. Only that.”
“Then you have the truth. There’s nothing more for me to say. I’m a fucked-up freak. I will break you to get what I want. I don’t want to do it, but I will, Rose. Goddamn it, I will!” He grinds his teeth, the sound is loud, and grates against my willpower.
My nostrils flare as I drag in the damp air. Inside my demon finally comes to life at the threat he poses to my sanity. I feel her strength boost my own.
“I don’t doubt you’ll try.”
“You think I can’t? Won’t?”
“This isn’t a battle, Anton. I’m doing this because I want something too. You’re not the only person who’s fucked-up.”
“You want something from me?” he asks, swiping a hand over his face. “The freedom to dance? You have that already,” he questions, misunderstanding me once again.
“It’s beyond that now. No, I want something more.”
He needs to be taught that there is another way. Roman stole my innocence. Anton will not steal my soul, at least not what’s left of it. I’m going to bind him to me so tightly that if he tries then he’ll only ruin himself in the process. If I go down, then so will he.
“What then, Rose?”
“Your devotion.”
His mouth pops open, but I hold my hand up. “You will devote yourself to me, you will be everything I ask and in return I will be the same for you.”
“You want my love?” he laughs bitterly.
“No, not that! I never asked for that. Love doesn’t exist, not in my world, not for me. Not ever.”
“Then what? You want to fuck me, Rose, after everything I’ve said? Done?” His eyes alight with a burning desire. A sense of satisfaction rolls over me. The jealousy I felt seeing him with Amber dissipates somewhat.
“I want to be the person you consume in every way, sex is a part of that, but not all of it. I’m giving you permission, Anton.”
“Permission? To do what?”
“To take what I give freely. You don’t have to steal from me when I give it willingly.”
His eyebrows pull together in a frown, genuinely confused. It raises a choked laugh from me.
“What?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest defensively.
It makes me laugh harder. I’m almost hysterical with the rapid wave of emotions that crash against my resolve to remain strong. My demon paces restlessly and I laugh harder, letting out the pent up crazy emotions I feel, letting go of the girl I was and embracing the woman I am now. Anton was right, I’m strong enough and I will win this battle of wills or die trying.
“Rose, talk to me. Make me understand. I need to know what happened to you,” Anton insists.
He steps closer, reaching for me. He cups my jaw in the palm of his hand. His touch might be gentle, but I know it’s just a ruse, a lie he tells himself so he can survive in a world that constantly denies him happiness, peace. He is so full of bitterness I can almost taste it.
“Despite everything you’ve told me. Despite the woman inside who you’ve ruined, I’m going to help you, but there’s one more thing I must ask of you,” I say, not ready to reveal my story just yet.
“What’s that?”
“Promise me you’ll never lock me up.”
Anton draws in a sharp breath as though I’ve slapped him, but his lack of response is telling. There are lots of things I can take but being locked up isn’t one of them. He needs to understand where I draw the line. I pull myself up straight and look him in the eyes.
“If you ever attempt to lock me away like you did Amber, it won’t be Ivan you’ll need to fear, but me,” I say with steely resolve.
He nods once in understanding. “I give you my word.”
It’s a tenuous agreement, and I realise that I’m trusting a man who has as much power to destroy me as Roman once did. I’ve looked into the eyes of Anton’s victim not more than ten minutes ago and had seen a version of myself I’ve tried hard to forget. I won’t be that person again.
“What happened to you, Rose?” Anton asks once more. He steps forward, towering over me. I watch the gathering liquid on his forehead form a droplet of water. It rolls down his face, like a tear shed for me. Tears I’ve never been able to release.
“I loved a man when I was just a child. A man who, for a period of time, locked me away on the pretext that he loved me in return. He took everything of the girl I once was, just like you took from Amber.”
“Not everything,” Anton whispers, lifting his knuckles over my cheek. “You survived.”
“Did I?”
He stills, and I allow him this moment to let that fact seep in. I might be here now rather than in a care home like Amber, but that doesn’t mean I’m not broken by my experience as much as she is. It just means I
have found a way to live with it.
“Was he the man you killed?” Anton asks.
My mouth parts as his thumb finds my bottom lip and my chest tightens with anticipation, with the knowledge that I’m about to reveal a secret I’ve never revealed to anyone before.
I shake my head, dislodging his hand. “No, not him. Another man who owned me in a different way.”
“Then who?”
I’m about to respond when I catch movement in the mist behind Anton. A shape forms, moving closer to us both, a ghostly figure with fiery red hair.
My breath halts, my body stiffens.
Amber appears before me, a beautiful apparition. Her white nightie clinging to her body, her hair flaming about her head.
She’s so beautiful, so fucking lost. She isn’t real.
She’s the ghost of my past. She’s the woman that haunts Anton’s present. She is a portent of the future that both of us wish to deny.
My body stiffens as I try to understand what I’m seeing.
Anton glances over his shoulder following my gaze.
“What are you looking at?” he asks, turning back to face me.
“Just a ghost,” I whisper, my heart heavy.
Chapter Fourteen
Anton
Rose is quiet on the journey back to Browlace. She stares out of the window deep in thought, not answering me when I ask question after question.
Her silence speaks volumes.
It fucking frustrates me more than I’d care to let on.
I need to know what happened to her. I need to look into the darkest parts of her soul and consume them. Somehow, that has become a need in me that won’t be quietened.
A fucking obsession, another one to add to my growling list. She’s cast a spell over us all. Her power is beguiling, intoxicating.
Today, she promised to help me in more ways than one. I feel the beginning of the withdrawals from the heroin I took in the early hours this morning. The tell-tale sweats, the deep ache in my muscles and bones. It’s beginning. Pretty soon I’m going to feel like shit, worse than shit.
And yet, she wants me despite the track marks on my arms and between my toes, despite everything I’ve shown her, everything I’ve said. She’s looked into the eyes of the woman I destroyed and saw a glimpse of her past, it scared her and yet she remains. Her strength is more of an aphrodisiac than even I thought possible. I’ve been hard for her ever since she revealed a glimpse into the darkness of her past. She loved a man. She killed a man. I want to know why, I want to know it all.
I want to own every piece of her heartache. I want to draw out all the colour that makes her unique. I want to claim her body as my own.
“Rose, will you answer me?”
She turns slowly to face me, her eyes wide. Her lips part, and I have the sudden urge to lean over and devour them with my own. I understand Ivan’s need for her. I get Erik’s attraction because I feel it too. Fuck do I feel it.
It was never this way with Amber. I fucked her out of frustration, despair, anger. Even now I can’t even understand how I was physically capable of doing it. I will never forgive myself for what I did to her. But regret is useless. I can’t change what I did.
Amber thought she knew who I was, and it ruined her when she realised I couldn’t be the man she wanted. Rose sees the real me and remains even when she understands the danger I present.
“Rose?” I prompt.
“No, not today,” she responds, before turning her attention back to the mist that has enveloped the whole county in its white embrace. It takes another thirty minutes before we turn into the private road leading up to Browlace Manor. The whole time Rose has remained withdrawn inside herself. My questions remain unanswered, but my need to know every inch of her, both physically and emotionally, has grown like a deep ache in my chest.
She asked for my devotion, and I already know I’ll give it. But there will be a price, there always is, and one of us is going to have to pay.
Maybe this time, even both of us.
“What will you tell Ivan?” I ask as the car finally pulls in front of the manor.
She turns to me, her fierce gaze cutting deep.
“The truth, only that.”
“He won’t let me hurt you,” I say before I can stop myself. She wanted the truth, I guess now she has it.
“Do you want to hurt me?” she asks, her face impassive.
“No, but I will.”
“I won’t let that happen, Anton.”
“He’ll want to protect you from me,” I respond, gritting my teeth. “He won’t risk it. I know Ivan. I know how his mind works.”
Patrick parks the car, turns off the engine and gets out, leaving us alone for a few precious moments. As soon as Ivan realises that we’re back he’ll be wanting Rose and I shall have to wait for my time alone with her, that’s if she can convince him to leave for Moscow. I’m not so certain her powers of persuasion are that effective, not when it comes to me, not when Ivan knows what I’m capable off too.
Rose grabs the handle opening the door. “Yes, he might, but I need to show Ivan I don’t need his protection.”
“That isn’t true. You’ve seen what I’m capable of,” I say to her retreating back as she moves to exit the car.
She turns to face me. “I told you I’m not easily breakable, Anton.”
“Everyone has a limit.” You’ve already told me yours, but I don’t say that out loud. I tuck that important piece of information away. I made a promise that I hope to God I’ll never have reason to break.
Rose hesitates, one foot already placed on the driveway. She pulls her leg back inside the car and slides across the seat pressing herself against me.
“Don’t forget I’m capable of darkness too, Anton. After all, isn’t that why we are so drawn to one another? You have something I want, and I have something you need.” She leans in close, her pretty mouth parting on a breath.
“I’m dangerous.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispers against my lips, brushing hers gently across my own.
That gentle touch sets a tinderbox alight in my chest and without thinking about what the fuck I’m doing, I unclip my seatbelt and pull her into my arms, crushing my lips against hers. Rose yields to me, her body melding against my own as she kisses me back ferociously. Then just as suddenly as I reached for her, she pushes me away. Her breaths come short and sharp as her gaze strips me bare.
“White,” she says.
“What? You want me to wait?” I respond. My fucking hands are shaking with need, my cock is thick and painful in my trousers and she wants me to wait? Even with the bitch of a withdrawal coming thick and fast my dick is still rock hard.
“No. White. You see in shades of black, grey and white, yes?”
“Yes, that’s right… but I don’t understand.”
“You will. Give me one night with Ivan. Tomorrow morning come to his room. Bring a fresh canvas, your easel and a pencil. No paint. Do you understand?”
I nod my head even though I have absolutely no clue what she’s up to.
“Hold on, okay,” she retorts, then slides out of the car and strides up the front steps and straight into Ivan’s arms.
I’m not sure how long he’s been standing there watching us, but the look he gives me is one I recognise. There’s absolutely no way he’ll leave Rose alone with me. He turns his back to me, wrapping an arm protectively around Rose’s shoulder then they disappear inside leaving me alone and uncertain in the car.
The next morning, I head up to Ivan’s bedroom with an easel and canvas, a pencil tucked behind my ear. I physically have to force myself up the flight of stairs. My body aches, goosebumps cover every inch of my skin and I feel restless, sick. I’ve barely slept and when I did it was filled with nightmares of dark shadows and glimpses of grey wisps of smoke. If I had any heroin to hand, I would have taken it. Instead, I had to make do with some weed and whisky to soften the blow.
I’m fully awa
re that I’m undergoing a state of withdrawal. I’ve been here before, but for some reason my symptoms seem less intense this time. Normally by now I’d be curled up in my room begging for more heroin, but somehow, I find the strength to go on without it, at least for now. Who knows how I’ll feel after this morning, given I’m about to walk into the unknown that is Ivan’s territory. I don’t make a habit of going into his private rooms, and he rarely goes into mine. Well, unless I’m fucked up on drugs like I was yesterday morning, that is. I lean the easel against the wall and rap on the door.
“Come in,” Ivan says, his voice dark, brooding.
He sounds pissed off, he has every reason to be.
Grabbing the easel, and clutching the canvas under my other arm, I enter the room trying hard to hide the edginess I feel. Ivan is sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless and wearing just a pair of loose slacks. He captures my gaze, anger blazing in his eyes but there is also a begrudging respect. He didn’t think I’d tell her, let alone agree to take Rose to Amber. Perhaps he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks.
“Set up by the window, the light is better there,” he orders.
“Where’s Rose?” I ask, trying hard to ignore the fact my fucking hands are shaking alongside the rest of my body.
“She’ll be here.”
Ivan points to the table in the corner of the room where a covered plate of food sits alongside a tall glass of water with a slice of lemon. My stomach growls, and I realise that I haven’t eaten for twenty-four hours, let alone had a drink.
“Eat, drink. Fucking get a hold of yourself, okay?”
I nod tightly, feeling my cheeks heat with shame. I already feel like shit, but I won’t let him know that. “How did you know?”
Ivan’s hands grip the bed sheets, his dark gaze sweeping over me. “I saw the needle marks on your arms. Rose told me about the ones between your toes. We got you through it the last time and you’re back on that shit? You’re a fucking idiot!” he shouts, standing abruptly.
“That wasn’t what I meant,” I respond.
“This is my fucking house, Anton. You think I don’t know what goes on inside it? One of the staff told me about Amber, about how you kept her locked away whilst I was out of the country. If you hadn’t let her go, I would have set her free myself. By the time I returned home Amber was already gone and you had bribed everyone to keep your fucking secret.”