by Penelope Sky
I wanted her to know who I was first.
But now, the last thing I wanted to do was kill her.
I wanted to be in bed with her, in that small apartment with no food in the kitchen. Her bed was small and uncomfortable, and she kept the place a few degrees too warm for me. But I wasn’t there for the comfort. I was there for the woman.
Now I was confused about what I wanted.
About what this woman meant to me.
I couldn’t kill her, not just because she’d saved my life, but because I didn’t want to. I never wanted to hurt her. She asked me not to tie her up, and I actually listened to her. I got scared when I saw her walking down the sidewalk of a busy road, so I went to check on her and was grateful I had. I chased those assholes away.
All I wanted to do was protect her.
But how could I protect her and kill her family at the same time?
I had to choose.
Vanessa or my vendetta.
I couldn’t have both.
9
Vanessa
When Bones left without saying goodbye, it hurt.
He’d never done that before.
Most of the time, I couldn’t get rid of him. He made my sheets smell like him, left his coffee mug in the sink, and used my toothbrush like it was his. He invaded my space like a bad roommate and left his clothes on my bedroom floor. He made his mark everywhere, from my things to my actual skin.
But when he left, I felt empty.
I didn’t like it when he wasn’t there.
When I went to bed for the next two nights, I tried not to be scared of whatever lingered outside my apartment. But my longing got the best of me, and I peeked out the window in the hopes I would see his truck at the curb.
But it wasn’t.
I reminded myself that he wouldn’t leave me if he thought I was actually in danger.
He would always protect me.
But I still hated the fact that he was gone, hated sleeping in a million layers while the bed still remained cold. I missed his smell. I missed his powerful arms wrapped around me. I missed the sex before we went to sleep.
God, this was bad.
I’d left Milan to clear my head, and once I returned, I was all over him again. Now that he was gone, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. As if I was losing my mind until I could get my next fix, I was anxious and desperate.
I was so damn attached to him.
How could I be attached to a man who wanted to hurt my family?
I hated myself. I hated myself so much. I judged myself for getting into this situation. I judged myself for not letting him die like I should have. I judged myself for feeling so many emotions for this man.
What was wrong with me?
The painting pushed him away. He saw the emotion I infused into the paintbrush. He took it as a confession, that I was pinned under his thumb so well that he could do anything he wanted to me. I was attached to him, desperate for him. He kept me as a prisoner at the time, but that painting showed I never felt like a prisoner.
I wanted him so bad.
He didn’t know what to do with that information, so he left.
I couldn’t blame him.
I should I could leave too.
Maybe I would get lucky, and he would decide to break things off between us. Maybe he would find a different woman, and the pain of his betrayal would be enough to make me return to my family and tell them we needed to kill Bones.
But he promised he would never leave me, that he would always come back to me. I was consoled by those words when I wished I weren’t, but I hung on to that confession like a lifeline. It reassured me that we still belonged to one another, that we couldn’t live without each other.
A part of me wished he would break that promise.
A bigger part of me never wanted him to.
Three days came and went, and I didn’t hear from him. I spent my time working on my paintings and cleaning the apartment. The painting I made of him was hung on my bedroom wall, so I could see it at night when I went to sleep. It made me feel safe, even though Bones couldn’t jump out of the painting and protect me.
Sleeping without him got easier, but it was never the same as it was when I had him by my side. I missed the way his weight sank into the mattress and forced me to roll toward him. I missed the way he put his stuff on his nightstand, making himself at home. But I pushed through it, telling myself I was being pathetic for letting his absence bother me this much
I didn’t want to be that kind of woman.
I’d always been strong, with or without a man.
But when it came to this one man…everything was different.
He made me so damn weak.
It was almost nine in the evening when I got a text message from him. I’m coming inside in five minutes. He never warned me when he was coming over, but I knew this was because I was a little timid at night. Just the slightest sound kept me up for an extra hour because I couldn’t figure out what caused it.
I didn’t text back, and I stayed on the couch, knowing I would hear his footsteps before he reached the door. I turned off the TV and let the fire crackle in the fireplace. My eyes moved to the window, waiting for his shadow to appear.
A few minutes later, I saw his silhouette through the curtains and heard his heavy footsteps against the concrete. He approached the door, slipped a key into the lock, got it open, and then stepped inside.
He locked the door behind him, dressed in a gray hoodie with black jeans. His black ink peeked out from underneath his sleeves. He stopped in the living room and stared at me, his bright eyes full of intensity. He stared at me just the way he always did, like nothing had changed between us despite his absence.
After a few seconds of holding his gaze, I rose to my feet and walked toward him. I was in black leggings and a baggy long-sleeved t-shirt, ready to go to bed when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I didn’t have any makeup on, and the curls in my hair had fallen out since this morning.
He glanced at my lips but didn’t kiss me.
I didn’t touch him either, unsure what he was thinking or feeling.
Finally, his hand slid around my waist while his other palm cupped my cheek. His fingers gently pushed my hair back, and his callused thumb rubbed against my soft skin. His face moved closer to me, his eyes focusing on mine.
The second he touched me, I turned soft. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of his palm. I turned my cheek into it, loving the way his hand felt against my skin. I loved the way his fingertips gripped the back of my shirt as he held me. I closed my eyes and treasured all of it, missing this touch deeply.
He pressed his face to mine and kissed the corner of my mouth. His lips were soft and gentle, and when they took mine, they were full of possession and longing. He gently pulled my bottom lip into his mouth, released it, and then kissed me again. He gave me this tongue, but it was in an affectionate way instead of lustful. He kissed me harder then pulled away unexpectedly to place his mouth against my ear. “I missed you…”
“I missed you.” My hands slid up his chest and around his neck. “So damn much.”
His hand moved to the back of my head, and he cradled my face as he kissed me again, continuing to give me embraces that were soft but packed with passion. His fingertips gently dug into my hair before he moved his hand under the fall of my strands.
I got lost in him immediately, my fingers gliding through his hair. I felt complete the second he returned to me. His affection was exactly what I’d been craving since the moment he walked out the door.
Now that he was back, I felt whole again.
He ended the embrace again and stared at my face, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. His eyes shifted back and forth slightly as he looked at me. He did something he’d never done before and leaned in to kiss me on the forehead. He left his kiss there, soft and warm. The heat radiated all the way down my spine and to my ass because the touch was so powerful. A man had never kissed me that w
ay. He pulled his lips away and looked me in the eyes again. “I love you, Vanessa.”
I heard every word that came out of his mouth, but it took an entire span of ten seconds to understand those words were real. They were really spoken aloud, coming from his mouth and landing on my ears. After I confirmed it was real and not a lie from my imagination, I took a deep breath because my lungs ached for oxygen. “What…?”
His thumb continued to glide across my cheek. “You heard me.”
My eyes watered, the flood of tears beginning to emerge.
“I went Lake Garda and stood on the bank where you painted me. I stared at the trees, the water, the snow…and I knew.”
The tears piled up at the corners of my eyes until they spilled over and streaked down my cheeks.
His thumb caught one and wiped it away. “And I know you love me too.”
Shock, terror, and pain seared my entire body. I’d struggled with this relationship for the last three months because I hated my feelings for him, but this crossed a line. I didn’t even know how bad things had gotten between us. “I don’t love you…”
He cocked his head slightly, but his expression didn’t change.
I pulled away from his grasp, getting his hands off me. “This is over.” I didn’t want his hands on me ever again. I never wanted the touch of my enemy, of this man who brainwashed me into thinking this relationship was okay. I’d fallen so far, but I wasn’t going to fall anymore. This was a deal-breaker.
Because it was so fucked up.
I stepped farther away, putting more space in between us.
He dropped his hands, his blue eyes flashing with hostility.
“We’re done.” I wiped away the tear that streaked down my cheek. “Get out of my apartment.”
Bones didn’t move an inch. “Baby—”
“I mean it. I don’t want you anywhere near me. I don’t want you in my apartment ever again. I want you to just disappear. I would much rather fight you with my family then go down this road.”
“Vanessa, I would never hurt your family. I’m dropping my vendetta for good.”
It was something I’d never thought he would offer, and I couldn’t believe he’d actually put it on the table. But I knew it was too good to be true. “For now. Then when this goes south, you’ll change your—”
“No.” His eyes flashed in anger. “Regardless of what happens tonight, I won’t touch them. I know how much they mean to you, and I would never hurt someone you love…because I love you.”
More tears emerged, angry tears. “Stop saying that. You’re not the kind of man who loves anyone.”
“No. I’m not the kind of man who lies. I know how I feel about you, and I’m not going to lie about it. Just because I’ve never loved a woman before doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving you better than any man ever could.” His arms remained by his sides and he didn’t move closer to me, but I felt like his body still surrounded mine. He shot me a look of hostility mixed with disappointment. “I didn’t think we would end up here, and as annoyed as I am about it, I’m not going to pretend nothing happened. You think I want to be in love with my enemy’s daughter? You think I want to drop this vendetta? You fucked up everything, baby. But, you know? I’m okay with it. I’m okay with it because you’re the one woman I can’t stop thinking about. You’re the one woman I respect. You’re the one woman I want to protect. So be strong and just be real with me.”
“I am being real,” I said through my tears. “This is just lust, not love. This is just convenience. We’ve been using each other for months, and that’s all it’s ever been. That’s all it will ever be. I’m done.”
He took a deep breath, one full of frustration. His chest rose with the movement, his immense body looking bigger.
“I never should have shown you that painting…” It led to all of this. My mother came to the same conclusion when she saw it, and now Bones did the same. “You’re seeing something that’s not there. It’s just a painting. It’s just paint and canvas. You think you see the way I feel, but you don’t.”
“I don’t need to be a professional to know what I saw. Anyone would draw the same conclusion—and you know it.”
I looked away, thinking of the words my mother said. “I don’t love you…”
“Say it as many times as you want. Doesn’t change anything.”
I lifted my gaze again. “You told me I had my rights. And I’m telling you I want you to leave and never come back. I’m telling you this is never going to happen. I’m telling you I want nothing to do with you.” I threw my hands down, disgusted with myself for letting this continue for so long. Three months of my life came and went—and I spent all of that with this man.
Bones didn’t move toward the door. “Cut the bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit.”
“The second I walked through that door, you were all over me.”
“Because I want to fuck you, not because I love you.” I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling my life spin out of control. “If you won’t hurt my family and I’m not a prisoner, then I want nothing to do with you. I want you to walk out and never come back. I won’t change my mind.”
He still didn’t move. He hadn’t blinked once throughout the entire conversation. He kept his anger restrained while I had my breakdown. With a clenched jaw and flared nostrils, he looked like he wanted to strangle me. “If you really want me to leave you alone, you’re going to have to give me a real reason. Because I know you love me. I’m watching tears streak down your cheeks, and I still see it. So don’t waste your time thinking you’re fooling me. Maybe you’re fooling yourself, but I know you’re smarter than that.”
I wiped my tears away with my fingertips and sniffed. “There’s no future for us. Even if I loved you, and I’m not saying I do, it would never work. Your father killed my aunt…he raped my mother…and you kept me as a prisoner for the last three months—”
“You weren’t a prisoner, and you know it.”
“Whatever,” I said. “It’s not a fairy tale.”
“A woman like you doesn’t need a fairy tale. You said your family wants you to marry a powerful man.” He raised up both of his arms, showing the definition of his arms. “Well, I’m the most powerful. I’m bulletproof. And I’m rich. I’d take care of you better than your own father did.”
“No…” More tears burned in my eyes. “I will never love a man who’s hurt my family so much…”
“I never did anything, Vanessa. Don’t hold me accountable for my father’s actions.”
“You wanted to kill my entire family, so I have to. What if this hadn’t happened? You could be butchering my family right this very moment.”
“But it didn’t happen,” he said quietly. “At this very moment, I’m telling you I love you. That’s what’s real. I said I wouldn’t hurt your family. I’ve sacrificed my blood lust—for you. That says a lot more than my genealogy.”
“My father is the most stubborn man on this planet…sometimes my mom is worse. They’ll never accept us. They’ll never accept you.”
“I don’t give a damn if they do. We’re in this relationship together—not with your family.”
“My family is the most important thing in the world to me… I would never be with someone they hated.”
“Then don’t tell them about me. Problem solved.”
“You’d rather be a secret?”
“It’s not like I want to spend any time with your family anyway. I said I wouldn’t kill them, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stop hating them.”
“How can you say that and still want to be with me?”
“I already said this,” he snapped. “I’m with you—not them.”
“My family dates who I date…and I’m not going to lie to them. I’m not going to have a secret life they don’t know about. They’re resourceful and smart. They’ll figure it out eventually. And that’s the last thing I want…for them to know I’m in love with the son of the man who hurt
my family.”
His eyes narrowed on my face, reacting to my choice of words.
Shit.
He didn’t grin like an arrogant asshole. He was too angry for that right now. “Even if we didn’t have a long-term future together, we could still be together now. We could still enjoy each other—honestly.”
That was not an improvement. I couldn’t get more attached to him than I already was. “No.”
“Why?”
“I can’t let this get any worse. I’ll never marry you, so I’m setting myself up for agonizing pain. I’m just going to hurt my family. I can’t stand my father’s disappointment, and if he knew about this…he would never look at me the same.”
“You’re a grown-ass woman, Vanessa. Be with the man you want to be with. You don’t need your father’s blessing.”
“Yes, I do,” I said firmly. “I need it more than anything else in this world. My parents mean everything to me. I know you don’t get that because—”
“I don’t have parents?” His nostrils flared again. “Because my father was killed by your parents? Because my mother turned into a prostitute to take care of me? Because her throat was slit, and she was left in a dumpster? Yeah, I didn’t have the perfect fucking childhood you had, and honestly, I hate you for it. You had everything that should have been mine. I hate you, and I hate your family too. But I can look past that since whatever the fuck we have is so damn good. Tell me it’s not good. Tell me it’s not the best high you’ve ever had.”
I couldn’t. It would be the most obvious lie I’ve ever told.
“I don’t care about my parents or your parents right now. This is just between the two of us.”
“But you don’t get it…this can’t go anywhere. I don’t want to get involved if we have no future. I want to get married and have my own family, and for that to happen, I need to pick someone my family can be close with. He doesn’t have to be perfect. He just can’t be you…”
He clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together. “If I can drop the vendetta when it’s been my life goal, then your father should be able to drop his prejudice—”