Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance

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Modern Fairy Tale: Twelve Books of Breathtaking Romance Page 178

by Kristen Proby


  “Why’d you have to do that?” I shake my head, wiping under my eyes. He adds, “I would have done it, but I thought you were smarter than that.”

  “I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say. “I need to get out of here,” I insist, and my words bleed with despair.

  “It’s better that you’re here,” he tells me. “You’re not safe at your father’s and I know Carter may not seem like the best person to you right now, but I know there’s a reason for all of this.”

  “My father.” The words tumble from my lips. I’m failing him.

  “You need to eat,” Daniel says, backing away from me and not acknowledging me. It’s the same thing Carter told me. I just need to eat. And obey.

  “You’re going to kill him,” I say and it’s a statement, not a question. I can’t even think about eating. The thought is repulsive.

  Daniel opens the fridge and ignores me, although he angles his body so he can see me in his periphery.

  He closes the door to the fridge with his elbow as he twists off the top to a beer and takes a quick swig, making the dampened shirt of blood glisten in the light and that bit of red on his throat stare back at me.

  I almost tell him I’m sorry, yet again. Even with knowing his plans for my father. It’s a sickening feeling to not know what’s right and wrong, but regardless, you have no choice.

  The bottle smacks down on the counter and he finally answers me. “It was going to happen whether or not we stepped in.”

  “What was?” I ask him in a hushed voice, cautiously, barely raising my eyes to meet his gaze. The only thing I keep thinking is that I need to be nice to him, so he doesn’t tell Carter.

  “War.”

  The one-word answer forces my gaze to the polished tile floor. It’s quiet while he drinks, and I clean up the mess of the cubed vegetables I won’t eat.

  “You won’t tell Carter?” I feel selfish for daring to bring it back up, but I need to know he won’t. If Carter were here for that… I can’t even begin to think of what he would do.

  “Look at me,” Daniel’s voice beckons and I do as he tells me. “I am not going to say a word to Carter. Not one word.” His voice is soothing, but I find it hard to be anything close to being okay.

  “Thank you,” I tell him and press my hand to my face to cool it down.

  He finishes the beer, all the while I stare at the spot on the floor until I turn instinctively at the sound of his name being called out by a feminine voice.

  “Shit,” he says under his breath. He’s quick to grab me by the arm. His grip is tight, demanding and catches me off guard with that fear returning and spiking through me.

  “Go to the den,” he demands beneath his hushed breath and attempts to push me out of the kitchen from the other threshold. My feet slip across the floor as he pushes me toward the den.

  “Daniel?” the voice calls out again, this time closer and he urges through clenched teeth, “Go.”

  My shoulders hunch forward and I feel like nothing. Like absolutely nothing. Worthless, pathetic and a weak thing to be pushed around at anyone’s whim.

  “Don’t do it again, Aria. You’re smarter than that,” he tells me before turning his back to me and walking briskly to the other side of the kitchen.

  His words numb me for a moment, even though my feet move of their own free will.

  I’m supposed to be smarter than that. Maybe I used to be, but a mix of desperation and the feeling of falling into a dark abyss is all I can see anymore… that mix is deadly to any semblance of intelligence that I have.

  My hands tremble and I struggle to breathe, but I try to remember Carter’s words from what seems like so long ago. I try to remember what he said that made me feel like I had hope. I try, and I fail.

  It doesn’t matter what they were. Everything is insignificant when there’s nothing you can do to change your fate.

  And now that I’ve been so fucking stupid, he’s going to put me back in the cell.

  I shouldn’t have done that. A heavy breath nearly suffocates me. I need to listen.

  With my eyes closed, I whisper, “Daniel won’t tell him.” But the words have little mercy on my pain, because I know I won’t be able to hide it from Carter. He sees me. He sees all of me. And he watches everything.

  “What the hell did you do?” A woman’s voice carries through the kitchen with shock and worry, startling me and cutting through my thoughts. As quietly as I can, I slink to the side of the doorway, so I can listen but won’t be seen.

  I didn’t know another girl was here. But the way she’s talking to Daniel make it obvious that she’s with him. Not a prisoner of him. Jealousy and fear mix inside of me and I don’t know why I’m so scared of being seen by her. Maybe the trickle of shame as I grip the doorway is indication enough.

  “I was drinking and cutting up shit and I thought it would be cool to toss the knife.” I hear Daniel give an excuse that’s not at all believable. But the girl believes him.

  “You could have killed yourself,” she reprimands him, although her voice carries a tinge of disbelief. Guilt seeps into my blood. And a part of me knows it’s ridiculous to feel sorry for trying to save myself. But so is all of this.

  Daniel chuckles. “Of all the ways to die, I don’t think it’s going to be this, Addison.” I can hear him take a drink before telling her, “I got you a beer.” I almost walk away, but Addison’s next words keep me planted where I am.

  “We need to talk.” The severity of her tone is sharp.

  “Not right now.” Daniel talks to her differently than the way he talks to me. Differently than the way Carter talks to me. There’s an edge of comfort in his voice and I don’t expect it.

  “It’s always not right now,” she responds. “Something’s going on.” Her tone softens, pleading with him. “Why can’t I leave?” she asks him with desperation clinging to every word.

  “It’s just better to be safe,” he replies so lowly I hardly hear him. The thrumming of curiosity flows through me. She can’t leave either?

  A moment passes and another, I can’t see what’s going on and I inch forward, hoping to get a peek before the conversation continues. Hoping to see this woman.

  “You don’t need to know,” Daniel says firmly and with that I creep around the corner to see Daniel leaning against the stove. I see him and a beautiful girl around my age shaking her head so hard that her dark wavy hair falls around her shoulders. She covers her face as she gasps, “You keep lying to me.” Pain is etched into her ragged voice.

  Daniel makes a weak attempt to wrap his arms around her before she pushes him away, his ass hitting the stove and she leaves the kitchen, heading back the way she came. Small sounds of her crying linger behind her. Daniel opens a large drawer that blends into the cabinet and he drops the empty beer bottle and cap into the trash, with a wretched pain in his expression that tears at my own heart.

  As he turns to leave, I creep further back into the kitchen, but he hears me and peeks over his shoulder.

  Not hiding his pain and then leaving me to mine.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Carter

  I checked the bedroom first. The depraved side of me hoped she would be waiting for me, already warming my bed.

  But it was empty.

  The den was next, after assuming I’d see her drawing on the floor of the hearth like she enjoys doing.

  But the fire wasn’t burning, and the room was silent.

  Then the kitchen. The empty fucking kitchen. My teeth grit as I pull up the security monitor and cycle through the cameras.

  My pulse races and I can hardly see straight as the monitor flickers from one to the next, each proving to be useless in showing me where my Aria is.

  I told her to wait for me in the kitchen, den, or bedroom. Those were the only rooms she was permitted to be in, yet my obedient Aria isn’t in a single one of them.

  My heart pounds and my temperature rises.

  She didn’t get away.

&nb
sp; I only left for three hours. Just enough time to drive to the club for the meet and then back. Daniel was watching her. I have to remind myself that she’s still here somewhere as the cameras loop back around to the beginning.

  “Fuck!” My anger gets the best of me, but as I spit out the word and feel the tension in my shoulders and chest rise, I both see and hear her at the same time.

  The wine cellar in the corner of the kitchen passed in a blur on the screen the first time, but there she is, in the corner, cross-legged with a bottle in her lap. And the sweet sound of her humming travels through the kitchen.

  I walk quietly to the cracked door, only a sliver of light shining into the kitchen.

  Listening to the cadence of her soft voice, her humming rises and a word slips out, but I don’t recognize the song. The melody is somber, somewhat melancholy.

  I inch closer, careful to be quiet and slip the door open as a bottle clinks against the tile floor, notably empty judging from the hollow sound.

  Aria’s dark locks fall back away from her face and chest as she lays her head back against the wall, her nose pointed toward the ceiling as she hums a little louder.

  It’s addictive, listening to those sweet sounds. Her voice has always captivated me and I suppose it always will. What saves you from the darkness is something extraordinary.

  “This isn’t the kitchen,” I say and break up her melody. The green and amber colors swirl into a deadly concoction of fear in her gaze as she takes in my words. I watch her throat as she swallows; I can practically hear her tense breathing as she seats herself in a kneeling position to tell me, “I didn’t know.”

  She still doesn’t look at me when she speaks. Sometimes in the evenings, she’ll peek at me. But she doesn’t like to look me in the eye.

  Her cotton blouse is loose and baggy, offering me a glance down her shirt, although her hair lays in the way as it hangs in front of her. Even still, I catch a glimpse of her breasts and the pale pink of her nipples. My dick hardens, and I stifle a groan.

  “I thought this was a part of the kitchen,” she says and I hear the drunkenness on her words. Her thick lashes flutter as I stay standing in the doorway to the wine cellar, silently.

  I wait for her to peek up at me, and when she does I hold her captive with my stare. It’s never made sense to me before why the expression of ‘doe eyes’ exists. But right here, right now, I understand. It’s a glance you can’t break. One that pauses time and holds you still. That’s what she does to me in this moment with that gorgeous gaze.

  “I swear I didn’t realize,” she breathes the words and licks her wine-stained lips.

  “From one cell to another,” I tell her and my little songbird bites down on her bottom lip to stifle a smile. “You find that funny?” I ask her as my own lips threaten to tip up.

  “I would prefer this one,” she tells me as a flirtatious blush creeps into her cheeks. “If you saw fit to put me in a cell again, the wine cellar would be a bit more my style.”

  A genuine grin pulls at my lips and I find myself walking toward her and crouching in front of her small, delicate frame. Although she seems sweet, engaging even, the nervousness is still present.

  I almost ask her what’s gotten her into such a pleasant mood, but the empty bottle of wine to her side and the mostly empty glass sitting next to it answer my question. Her pupils are dark and large, but the beauty and desire behind them are enticing.

  “You’ve enjoyed yourself while I’ve been gone?” I ask her while cupping her cheek, but instead of leaning into me, she pulls away and moves to sit on her ass. She pulls her legs to her chest.

  She shakes her head once, and the happiness leaves instantly, chilling the room and my blood.

  “I have something I should tell you,” she speaks to her knees with her head buried in them, “but Daniel said he wouldn’t.” Some of her words are slurred. And even with the cuteness of her tipsy demeanor, knowing Daniel was housing a secret with her steals any sense of humor from me. “But I should.”

  “Yes,” I tell her as I sit on the floor in front of her, “you should.” A vise grips my heart as I creep closer to her. Secrets can’t be tolerated. Secrets destroy all they touch. And Daniel would keep a secret from me?

  She scratches behind her ear and glances at the door before looking back at me. Her lips part, but then she simply licks them, still trying to find her words. I can hear the steady beat of her heart in rhythm with mine.

  “Tell me, songbird. It will be much worse for you if you don’t.” A crease of sadness mars her forehead and her eyes darken with worry, but the threat was needed. And with it comes her confession.

  “I cut him,” she says quickly and then clears her throat. “Daniel. I held up the knife and threatened him to let me go but I didn’t mean to cut him, I swear.”

  “You want to leave me?” I ask contemptuously. The anger has come so easily tonight, my emotions getting the best of me. And it’s because of her. It’s all because of Aria.

  “No, I just,” she swallows thickly and pushes the hair from her face. “I don’t know why, but when you left me… it’s different when you aren’t with me.” She struggles with her words and I wait a moment in silence for her to go on.

  “I was angry. I wanted to leave to tell my father.” She doesn’t see how my body tenses and rage creeps into my expression at her confession. She will never leave me. Never. And her father can burn in hell for all I care.

  Gritting my teeth, I let her continue.

  “He came to talk to me, and I had a knife. I was drunk and it was stupid. Or maybe just tipsy? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just a mess and I don’t know what’s right or what I should do and I…” She trails off, her breathing and words chaotic at best.

  Has Daniel really gone so soft that he would let her threaten him? The sense of disappointment in both of them is mixed, but so much stronger with Aria. She wanted to leave. I have to resist every urge to throw her back into the cell and keep her there where she doesn’t have an ounce of escape.

  It’s only the genuine sadness in her eyes that dulls the anger and brings out the curiosity I felt when I first watched her from the monitors.

  It takes a moment of heavy breathing and silence between us for me to realize that it’s my fault. She wasn’t ready to be left in someone else’s hands. I should have known better. But things will change quickly. I nod at the thought, although my gaze stays on Aria. Soon.

  “He let you cut him with a knife?” I ask her, wondering how reckless Daniel must’ve been.

  It’s because she doesn’t fear him. Fear changes everything.

  “Only a little,” she answers in a meek voice while lifting those gorgeous eyes up to mine and I find it humorous. With a gentle smile tracing my lips, I clarify, “You cut him… but only a little?”

  She dares to let the peek of a smile show, but it’s quickly gone. “I feel awful for doing it.”

  “You would have killed my brother?” I ask absently, making a mental note to watch the tapes of her while I was gone.

  “No, but I know you’d kill mine.” Her words are a well of sadness, but also of acceptance.

  “You have no brother,” I tell her as if her statement is irrelevant, but she’s right. There are no limits to what I’ve done and what I’m about to do. There is mercy for her, but not for anyone else.

  “You really tried to leave me?” A spike punctures through my chest as I voice it out loud. Earlier, I was more concerned that she shared a secret with Daniel. But the fact remains that she tried to run away. That she wanted to leave me and was willing to kill to do it.

  “It was an awful attempt,” she tells me as if it makes it better. And a part of me softens at her response. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about it all. I think I’m going crazy,” her words come out breathily as she drops her head back to lean against the wall. “You’ve made me crazy, Carter. All I am is sorry. It’s all I know how to be anymore.”

  With my hand cupping her
jaw, I wait for her to look at me with glassy eyes on the verge of tears. “No, my songbird. All you are… is mine.”

  “Yes,” she says simply. The acknowledgement giving me a headier rush than I’ve ever felt.

  My head nods on its own. “I didn’t think you’d dare to be so bold while I was gone.”

  “I’m sorry.” Fear traces her whisper.

  “I didn’t want to punish you tonight of all nights,” I tell her, letting my fingers run along the necklace she wears, “I had different plans in mind.” My dick is already hard as I consider what to do with her. “But you tried to leave me and there’s no greater sin than that.”

  “Please,” she whimpers as I shush her. “I don’t want to go back.” She doesn’t cower from my touch; she welcomes it as I rest a hand on her bare shoulder, my fingers skimming under the fabric of her shirt. Her mesmerizing hazel eyes stare into mine and beg me for mercy.

  “Didn’t I tell you your next offense would lead to the cell?” I remind her with a question and her face crumples. She inches toward me, both of her hands on my thighs as she begs me, “Please.” Her fingers slip across the expensive fabric of my pants as she crawls between my legs, begging me for forgiveness. How I’ve dreamed of her like this. Just like this.

  “What would you do to stay with me?” I ask her, wanting to give her the mercy she begs for. I’ve never felt it so strongly before.

  Her chest rises and falls heavily. “Anything,” she answers me quickly with desperation.

  “Not to stay out of the cell, but to stay in my bed. There is a difference, Aria.”

  Her expression falls and she struggles to voice what she’s thinking. Dread seeps into my gut as she fails to answer me, but with that soft voice of hers, it leaves me at once.

  Her fingers lace through the necklace as she says, “It’s only when you’re gone that I remember.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Her voice wavers as she tries to explain. “I don’t want you to leave me. It’s harder for me when you do.”

 

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