“So Mitch and I are, what? Bait? Chum in the water to attract the sharks?”
“Something like that.”
What Landon didn’t understand was that he wasn’t on the boat. He was in the water with them. And Mitch wasn’t a feeder fish. He was the shark. Or he might be soon.
“That’s…” She blew out a breath. “Very unhealthy. Honestly, you need to reevaluate that plan. Because hanging around with us could very possibly get you hurt. Or worse. And I don’t mean by The Clinic.”
“We all die someday.”
“True, but you’re putting yourself in a position that could turn ‘someday’ into today.”
“Which is exactly why every time I raise my glass, I wish for one more. Another day, another chance to get what I want. Isn’t that what life is all about?”
“I have no clue what life is all about.” Nor could she make anyone do something they didn’t want to do. Just trying to change his or Mitch’s mind wasn’t enough. Each of them had their own road. So she needed to pick up the whole frigging street and change its direction, so they would never encounter the dangers of the one they’d chosen. But to do that, she needed information about how far they’d already traveled.
“Tell me how often Mitch is changing.”
“A lot.”
“Damn it, Landon! Just tell me. What are you afraid of? I’m in a frigging cage, for god’s sake.”
He shrugged.
“Are you worried it’s going to hurt my feelings? Again, the cage.” She threw her hands up and spun in a circle. “Locking me up hurts my feelings, so that’s already done. Are you worried he doesn’t want me to know? Well, screw him. He’s the reason I’m here. He’s the reason I’m in this cage and he’s downstairs with his feet up.”
“It’s a lot,” he mumbled. “I don’t count.”
“Make a guess then. Three times? Five times? What?”
“Almost every night and sometimes during the day.”
That stopped her. “He turns every night?” She stared at him, the words barely leaking out of her mouth, a big breath of oh-shit rushing in.
“Almost every night.”
This is bad. Beyond bad. This was disaster.
“I need to talk to him, Landon. Now.”
“He’s not ready.” Even as he spoke, he looked like he hated saying it.
“I don’t really care if he’s ready or not. We have a time-sensitive issue here that won’t get better by ignoring it.”
Landon fidgeted, but didn’t leave. “I told him I believe you. But he wasn’t having it. When you wake up tomorrow, he’ll have to accept it, and he’ll be okay with you not being in the cage. But right now, I think it’s probably the safest place you can be. It’s just a little longer.”
“I don’t care about the cage. That’s not the problem. He is.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need you to give him a message.” She tried to keep her voice business-like, despite the fact that she’d been incredibly wrong before. Being put in a cage didn’t even compare to knowing that Mitch couldn’t bring himself to be in the same room as her. But feelings could wait, his life couldn’t.
“They’ll give him the serum.”
“Wha—”
She held up his hand to stop whatever was about to come out of his mouth, because nothing was as important as what she needed to say. “He will die without it, Landon. Hyde will take over, and Mitch won’t be able to come back. Ever. Do you understand? Ever. You tell him that he can be as mad at me as he wants, but that won’t change a thing. Especially after he’s gone.”
§ § §
As soon as he left the room, Eden’s mind raced with what-ifs and what-the-hells. Even inside this cage, she finally felt free—free of self-doubt, of fearing who she was, of constantly trying to be someone she wasn’t. Because she had a focus outside of herself. She knew what she wanted now. What she’d always wanted. But Mitch…
She’d hoped that his faster recovery from injury was a sign of his changing, just as she had changed. But he wasn’t healing, integrating his two sides. He was losing control, not gaining it. What Alex claimed coincided with what Landon said about him—the man was failing and the beast was winning.
He needed help. From whoever was offering—her, Landon, The Clinic. But he just might be stubborn enough not to take it from any of them. She wondered how well Landon’s discussion with Mitch was going. And who would be throwing the first punch.
She knew what she needed to do and that she had a limited amount of time to see if it could be done. So she reached behind her and took two of the safety pins out of her dress. Eyeing the lock on the cage door, she let her hands do their work, without questioning how they knew what they were doing. When she looked down at them, she held bent pieces of metal that she’d fashioned into something that looked nothing like a key, but that she knew would fit the lock perfectly. Guided by the instinct of an animal, with the intelligence of a human, she’d done it. It wasn’t pretty, but it would free her.
After a few unsuccessful attempts at sticking it in, she closed her eyes, subdued the part of her brain that was thinking too hard, allowing her new-found instinct to guide her hands. She felt the make-shift key slide in. When she heard the lock click, a sigh of relief escaped her mouth.
She couldn’t let them know she’d found a way out. She needed to build their trust. Ironic, yes. But a time might come when their trust wasn’t as important as her freedom. The moment they were threatened—any of them—she would sacrifice that trust. For their safety.
But if Mitch’s Hyde-bomb might explode any minute, how much time did she really have? After sliding her arms back through the bars and tucking the key into her bra, she sat down to wait for another chance to convince them that they were out of options. And if that didn’t work…
“Damn it.”
The second the shouting started, she regretted sending Landon down there. Like she’d just told someone to start walking towards the angry-looking men with guns because they only wanted to chat. Only snippets of the conversation traveled upstairs, but it was enough to know that she should’ve sent him down with a white flag.
Mitch’s voice saying, “…actually believe the crap she’s bullshitting you with?”
Then Landon’s even louder reply of, “I don’t know. But sitting down here, doing nothing, isn’t going to convince me one way or the other.”
She stood as she heard the rapid pounding of feet heading from the living room to the stairs.
“She’s not Eden,” Mitch yelled. “I’ll prove it. Don’t bother coming along, you’ll be able to hear everything from downstairs.”
Proof? She tried to focus, so she’d be thinking logically when he demanded whatever kind of proof he thought existed. To prove something that wasn’t.
“What are you going to do?” Landon yelled back.
“I’m going to ask her a couple of questions. That’s it.”
Questions. Well, talking was better than skinning her alive to see if she was a real girl or not. And she wouldn’t lie, even if it wouldn’t make her nose grow.
A moment later, Mitch came tearing into the room, slamming the door behind him and locking it. He didn’t slow down as he stuck out his arm to snag the key to the cage off the dresser. His long, heavy strides not stopping until he was a few feet outside the bars.
“Do you want to fuck me?” he screamed at her.
“What?”
“Open the door!” Landon pounded on the door, cursing.
“Answer the question, Chastity.”
She bit her tongue, holding back another demand that he stop calling her that name. Because she knew how important the next words out of her mouth were.
“Open the goddamned door, Turner!” Landon called.
Mitch took another step forward. “Yes or no, do you want to fuck me?”
“I can’t answer that,” she said. Of course she wanted to fuck him. But if she said that, he’d think Chastity had answe
red. Because Chastity would never refuse the offer. And if she said ‘no,’ he’d know she was lying. And the Eden-he-used-to-know didn’t lie.
“Why not? It’s a simple question.”
No, it was a loaded question. No matter which way she answered, she’d lose. He already knew what she wanted. If her quick breaths, the heat she’d felt rise on her cheeks and chest from the moment he’d walked into the room weren’t enough, he must have noticed the hard nipples pushing against the thin fabric of her dress.
“Don’t you want me?” His voice lowered, every syllable promising what she wanted. “To wrap your legs around me. Feel my cock slide inside you. Or maybe I’d bend you over and fuck you from behind.” He swallowed. “Ram into you, over and over, holding onto your hair as I take you, as I make you scream. Then would you answer the question? Would you scream it out as you come? As I make you come?”
He slipped the key into the lock, gently turning it, all the while keeping her trapped in the intensity of his gaze. It was an angry look, far, far from the loving one she’d dreamt of. But it held so much heat, so much desire, she didn’t care.
He opened the door of the cage, still telling her all the things she could have if she only said yes. She wanted him. She wanted him so badly, the need consumed her. The lust Chastity brought with her pulsed like the base of her favorite song. But Eden couldn’t give in to it. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t say yes. To Chastity or to him.
Neither Eden nor Mitch would come out of this unscathed. He wanted more than proof. The moment she gave in, would he give her what he was promising, or would he turn and walk away? Would he be able to walk away?
She backed up, not trusting herself or him, only stopping when her ass hit the other side of the cage.
“I know I do.” He didn’t stop talking, didn’t stop moving forward. “I want to be inside of you so bad, it hurts.” The only wall between them was built of desire, of heat. And, with every step, he pushed it deeper into her. “I want to press you up against these goddamned bars, lift your skirt and take you. Hard. But that won’t be enough, will it?” His eyes scoured her body, the intensity exposing her, branding her skin. “You’re so goddamn hot. And I know exactly how you feel inside. It’s burned into my mind—every thrust, every time your body tightened around my cock as you came. I need to feel that again. Right now. I want to be so fucking deep inside you, we might never come apart again.”
Her body shuddered with anticipation. Every word making her denial even weaker.
“I’m going to make you come so many times, you won’t be able to stand.” He moved her by the waist, so their hips met…and released. In…and out. “Until you can’t breathe.” Again. “And then I’ll fill you with my come. So my heat lingers. So you remember me being inside you.” And again. “Until the next time. And the next time. And the next time.”
Yes, that’s what she wanted. Everything. She wanted it all.
“Tell me.” With each word, his lips brushed hers. So close. He was so close. “Tell me you want that as much as I do.”
“Yes,” she breathed when she couldn’t hold it back any longer.
“Then say it.” His hands clutched her ass, grinding his erection against her. “Tell me you want to fuck me.”
She didn’t dare move, knew he was looking for any reaction that would give her away. Was looking for signs of embarrassment as she said the words he wanted her to say, all of the things she wanted him to do to her. But he was still looking for the person who would blush when she said it. And Eden was no longer that person. Her mind swirled, Chastity pushing forward.
Eden felt like she was being suffocated between them—Mitch on the outside and Chastity from within. It wasn’t fair. No one could fight this.
All she could do was hold onto the love she felt for him, the hope of what might be. Or they’d all lose.
“I want to make love to you, Mitch.”
His arm came up quickly, about to strike, but instead it landed on the bar next to her head. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.” He ran his teeth across her jaw, biting.
She blinked so she could focus, remember the game he was playing, mentally shoving Chastity away like she was…well…a bitch in heat. “I want to make love to you.”
When he pulled back, he looked confused, as if her reply threw him off. But it was only momentary. “Not like that. You want me to fuck you. Say the words.”
She swallowed, shaking. “What will words prove, Mitch? No matter what, you’ll think I’m lying.”
He inhaled deeply, as close to losing control as she was. “I’m just asking you a simple question.”
“And I answered it. Believe me or don’t—I don’t care. Words prove nothing.”
He studied her, not moving or speaking. His eyes burned hers. But despite the heat, she couldn’t look away. She didn’t dare look away.
“You’re right. It’s everything behind the words that holds meaning.”
“Then ask another question.”
The pounding on the door stopped. Or it could’ve been the entire world.
“Do you trust me?” he asked finally.
The question hung in the air. Why that? Of all the things he could ask her, how would that prove anything?
“Yes,” she said. She had to. She had to believe that he would return in kind. Or she’d—
A shot rang out, puncturing the door, sending large slivers of wood into the room. Landon shoved in was left of it and came barreling into the room, his weapon raised.
“Leave her the hell alone, Turner.”
The commotion had made her jerk, but Mitch’s arms on either side of her had kept her still. He continued to look at her as if he hadn’t heard a thing, his stare heavy on her.
“Turner, get out of the goddamn cage.”
Mitch blinked and shook his head slightly, as if shaking off a dream. He glanced at Landon before turning back to her. Then he leaned in, so close that she could feel the heat of his breath on her ear.
“Guess how I know you’re lying,” he whispered. “How I know you’re not her.”
“Now, Turner,” Landon yelled. “Don’t make me shoot you.”
He didn’t react, didn’t even flinch. “Because Eden would never trust me.” His voice caught. “Not after all I’ve done to make her not.” Then he pushed away from her and stormed out of the room.
She wanted to call out to him, beg him to talk to her, give her another chance, but she couldn’t speak. Her breath was shallow, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She tried to stand upright, to do something to regain her balance. But the look on his face filled her mind, smothering all logical thought, leaving only hopelessness behind. He hates me. Because of her eyes. The same eyes that had seen through all of his walls, had known who he was behind his fear and self-loathing.
If he could just close his own, would she stand a chance of reclaiming what was once hers? Close your eyes, Mitch. Close your eyes and pretend that you still love me.
“You okay?” Landon asked.
She swallowed as she pried herself off the bars.
“I’m fine,” she answered gruffly. Words that proved nothing.
CHAPTER XIV
It wasn’t safe for Mitch to leave the house now that he had something The Clinic wanted. But it wasn’t safe for him to be in the house either.
He was running out of options. But one thing men are always ready for is something physical. And the shit he’d pulled after his last fight had only made him a more desirable opponent to guys who were too stupid to know better.
Tonight he took his time, gave the other fighter a chance to think he was really doing some damage. Mitch didn’t duck. Fuck. He didn’t even move. He simply enjoyed every punch the guy threw. Felt it shake his body, bruise his muscles. If he was lucky, maybe he’d have some good internal bleeding going by the end of it.
Eventually her image would be knocked out of his skull. At least the pain was there to help him feel better. Less angry.
And a lot less horny.
Landon’s dramatic entrance had actually been a blessing. Even if she’d said exactly what Mitch wanted to hear, he still might not have been able to make it out of the cage without fulfilling every promise he’d made.
Forget about it, asshole. Focus on the fight, not on her. Or he would get a fucking hard-on and, in a Fight Club, there’s no coming back from that. No one will want to get too close to the prick with the hard prick.
He squeezed his eyes shut to try and rid his mind from the look on her face. From the way her body had been practically begging him to make good on his offer. Yep, if Landon had shown up about three seconds later, he would have walked in on an even more disturbing scene. And Mitch would be feeling even worse than he did right now.
If he gave in to the needs of his body, of her body, it still wouldn’t be enough. Because it would be with the wrong woman. Ah, what a fucked up world we live in. He sees Eden, wants Eden, and can’t have Eden. Because she wasn’t actually Eden. And screwing her alter-ego would be hollow and meaningless. Like pounding back a cup of coffee so you don’t fall asleep while driving and then, after you wake up in a ditch, realizing it was decaf.
He needed to go home now, to be there when Eden woke up. So he ended the fight. Quick and dirty. But this time he didn’t offer to help his opponent stand back up. He just walked away. Was that a sign of inner-spiritual-growth or inner-I-don’t-have-the-time-or-interest-to-give-a-fuck?
Yep. He wanted to be there when Eden woke up. Then he’d feel a hell of a lot better.
§ § §
In the morning, the first thing Mitch did was throw on some clothes. The second was go check on her. He’d spent half the night feeling Hyde scratch apart the inside of his chest like the bastard was peeling off wallpaper. Then, once that delightful experience was over, he spent the rest of the night telling himself that everything would be okay—Eden would be back, and whoever she’d been yesterday would’ve disappeared like a wallet accidentally left behind on a barstool.
Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy Page 13