by Elena Monroe
He never acted crazy for anyone’s benefit; he just was.
Grimm was the only one looking at me like how I felt; this was going to be torture for someone like me. “You good?”
Warm and fuzzy wasn’t his deal. Thankfully, it wasn’t mine either.
I shook my head still holding my glass up when I spoke, “Cheers to dying a natural death.” Shooting back the liquid, I felt the warmth fill my stomach. I just swallowed sunshine and that was a feeling better than anything else.
The guys left directly after our glasses were empty and I knew that meant the party was over. They never overstayed their welcome yet for some reason I had a feeling Eve invited their intoxicated asses to stay over again.
Heading out the same door still in my dress pants and black dress shirt, I started my search down the hallway shouting her name.
“Eve?”
Hide and seek was her favorite game when we were kids. She was dedicated too, one time she hid for four hours not willing to give up. She was the only one still playing by our adolescent rules anymore.
Instead, I found my mom with a look of pure domination on her face across from Eve’s mom. “How dare you bring him here, Virginia. Do you think Bowen is stupid?”
My mom knew more than she was telling me and at this moment I didn’t appreciate her ability to keep secrets.
Eve’s mom drank her wine with no real interest in being scolded. “All he knows is that he paid for her, what you tell him is up to you. He’s not my demon child. I can’t control Elias.”
Elias.
Who the fuck is Elias?
Was he the stranger who violated my space and had his hand around Eve’s neck?
Was he an ex-boyfriend, ex-lover, or something worse?
My mother had the same element of scary she passed down to us. “It kills you to see her finally happy, doesn’t it? That she’s with family now? Don’t try to pull anymore shit with me. Bowen isn’t the little boy you remember.”
Listening at the top of the stairs, I wanted to interject but I forced myself to stay in place, listen and observe.
I wanted my answers from the source: Eve.
I wanted her to break for me like I already have for her, get rid of the rest of the poise and filters.
Back to my search, I whisper-shouted her name trying to find her while staying hidden from our moms. “Eve? Fuck.” I turned the corner down another hallway and kept shouting every few minutes.
Finally I heard a delicate voice shout back, “I’m in your bedroom. Come find me.”
Exactly where I didn’t want her—now this memory would be there every time I go to bed.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I knew everyone was expecting this to happen tonight. That’s what a wedding night outlined—consummating your marriage.
The Clave was invested in making sure that happens. When they pick our partners for us, they consider sexual compatibility, and when the courting starts, we’re watched closely and expected to be perfect.
Not having sex tonight wasn’t an option, was it?
Pushing open the door, I kept my eyes low while I closed the door behind me. I knew this wasn’t going to end at finding her.
The walk from the door to my bed actually hurt as my hands shook. My hands always shook when I was drunk, but right now it was for other reasons.
Stopping at the bedpost, I leaned into it, my shoulder being engraved by the metal as I finally looked at her small frame in the middle of my bed. She barely sunk into it, she was so dainty and light—nothing like the Eve I knew.
The Eve I knew was someone who sank her teeth into you, could beat up guys twice her size, and didn’t talk in a small whisper like she did now.
“Is this going to hurt?”
Her legs unfolded for me and I looked between them still unsure if I wanted to move any closer. Her small panties didn’t really let me imagine anything. I could see an outline of her sex and a small wet spot on the fabric telling me she was turned on.
We had fooled around in my moments of weakness, but this was going to be different.
When she left, we were too young to be touching and kissing—giving into the fantasies driving our hormones. But I would be lying if I said I didn’t ever think of Eve like this. I would always imagine what she looked like older, developed as a woman. I refused to think about anyone else.
“I don’t know. Maybe?”
Doesn’t it hurt already?
Her head fell to one side while she slowly pulled the satin bow tail between her fingers, exposing her chest. Her small perky breasts and hard nipples were on full display for me, and I had to talk my own dick down from embarrassment.
“I saved myself for you. I always wanted it to be you, Bowey.”
Not what your ex-boyfriend said to you when I was eavesdropping.
I was still fully clothed watching Eve writher on my bed from behind a bedpost. I wanted to touch her so badly, but my demons who only knew the touch of men were dancing right now, and they were about to win in the fight for dominance.
“Stop embarrassing yourself by being so desperate when we both know someone else has heard you moan, right?”
Quickly closing her legs, she covered up her small breasts with the sheer robe she had on, and I bit my tongue so hard I hoped my teeth would cut right through it. It physically pained me to hurt her, and yet I kept up the bad habit.
“I hate you.” The tears were cascading down her face like a waterfall while I stood there soaking up her broken remarks.
Good, hate me.
Hate me so I can love the right version of you.
Hate me because I don’t deserve you.
“Who is Elias, Eve?” My eyes locked onto hers when she pulled hers away in shame. Pushing herself off the bed, she tried to escape, but I was quicker.
Making it to the bathroom door before she closed herself in, I wedged my dress shoe against the frame, stalling her plan to avoid me.
“What are you talking about?” She bit her words off in an angry tone that actually felt significantly less glossed over.
She was close to breaking.
“Did Denmark teach you to lie so well, Princess? You had me believing your purity act.” I watched her fold her arms over her still exposed body in the see-through lingerie.
I wanted to lick her tears away, replacing them with my mouth as punishment, but I pushed my palms into the doorframe to block her from running away instead.
“He’s no one. Denmark doesn’t matter anymore. God, Bowen! Every time you let yourself be happy with me you end up ripping it all to shreds! Fu-”
Her head dropped, catching her own words before she said them.
There’s that filter I need to break to get to my Evey.
Pushing myself against her back, I invaded her safe space with my hands gripping the counter around her small frame to box her in. I watched her in the mirror she faced, and the words barely grazed past my lips as I felt the closeness of our bodies. “Say it, Eve. Say it.”
I could see Eve pouring through, on the edge of being permanent.
She wanted to run away to adjust her Pretty Princess features in the bathroom alone, but I wasn’t going to condone running off the parts of her I loved. The sharp parts I was living to cut myself on if it meant getting her back.
Her head dipped low, hiding her eyes from me while I watched her every breath in the mirror while her body stiffened between me and the counter. “No, I’m not saying it. You don’t deserve it.” Her eyes were a darker blue that made it obvious she was angry and biting her tongue.
Letting go of the grip on the counter, I dropped my hand down while my fingertips grazed her exposed thigh in her provocative panties that made her look even more delicate. Even if it was wrinkled with regret, pent up frustration, and the tension between us.
Dragging my fingertips up her thigh, I watched her reserve crumble. This was how I was going to break her, the exact way she was trying to break me—with her body.
&nb
sp; So why was the strategy working on me too?
My head sunk down, and I whispered against the shell of her ear, “You know you want to, Eve. Just tell me to fuck off.” My lips dragged against her ear the same way my fingers traced little stars on her exposed thighs while she shuddered.
It was taking everything in me to keep my dick at bay with her ass fitting perfectly against my crotch.
Unwinding herself between me and the bathroom counter, she faced me with glossy eyes when she said it and meant it. “Fuck you, Bowen... Are you happy now that Pretty Princess is gone? Fuck. You.”
It stung the exact way I wanted it to as I stared back at her, seeing only Eve, not one ounce of the facade. I had broken the last piece holding onto her with just one touch.
So why didn’t it feel good?
Fear is more powerful than love—than any other emotion.
I force fed her fear and got Eve in return.
It was a steep price to pay.
I still hadn’t pulled away when I forced myself to stand there and take the blow while she resented me for breaking her.
Leaning into my palms, the counter imprinting on me like some false second coming, I leaned far enough to let my lips plant a single kiss on her neck. A poor consolation prize, but it was all I had to give her, even though the friction of her ass against how much I was throbbing made it difficult to convince myself that any of me was still off limits.
“You’re so much more beautiful when you hate me because that’s what I deserve.” She gasped when her ass accidently pushed back into me and she could feel every hard inch. “Hate me forever and I might give in.”
I wanted this Eve, the one who wasn’t afraid to fuck, bleed, and fight if it was how she felt.
My hand was still dancing against her thigh when I tugged the end of the robe, exposing her chest while watching in the mirror. My lips found her neck while her mouth fell open.
“I’ll never hate you. How can I hate you when you were always my only lifeline? Not only here, but in that hell too, Bowen.” Her hands pushed against my chest as she twisted around still between me and the vanity. She pushed me hard enough to move my almost drunk ass that was distracted by how good her body felt against my cock.
Standing in front of my bed, she forced my eyes to follow her as the lingerie fell from her shoulders and the delicate panties slipped down her legs. Sitting ass naked on the edge of my bed, she crossed her legs. “Is this better for you? Easier to fuck the broken girl instead of the princess they tried to force me to be?”
Leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, I watched her hand trace down her breasts with labored breathing. “I’d take broken over fake any day, Eve. I want you not the bullshit you were pretending to be.”
I stayed in place as she uncrossed her legs and laid back, continuing to tease me and her body with her fingertips. Her head shifted to the side to find my eyes right as those fingers made their way down to her pussy. “Doesn’t matter who did the breaking, huh? As long as I’m just as damaged as you are. Did you pay for the extra damage?”
She wasn’t wrong. Her filters were a blatant reminder that I didn’t deserve the perfect wife they taught her to be. It magnified how evil I am and how good she is.
Her being right didn’t stop my mind from shouting the name Elias and the way she toyed with being damaged made my mind already come up with ways to kill whoever hurt her.
I didn’t even know what to say… All I knew was that I had to bridge the goddamn gap and watch out for the cracks of her darkness that only made me love her more.
She was equally as broken and nothing made my dick harder.
Standing at the end of my bed, I let my hands grab the backs of her legs, pulling her down to me. “I’m taking all the credit for all your damage, Eve. I can take it. You want to take it out on me? Do it. Tell me to go fuck myself until you feel better.”
Sitting up, she wiggled out of my hands, crawling across my bed like I was supposed to chase her. She was comfortable in my bed all over again like when we were kids and it had me starting to unbutton my dress shirt. A small laugh came from her pouty lips. “That’s supposed to fix me? Tell you to go fuck yourself a few times like Hail Marys?”
“How am I supposed to know what will fix you when it’s a secret, Eve? You won’t be honest with me. Who is Elias?” Undoing my belt, I left my clothing undone while I kicked my shoes off.
Enough to play with her reserve in the same way she tortured mine.
She wanted me to give up. That wasn’t going to happen. We were going shot for shot and we could take it because of all our baggage.
“What if the truth is so ugly that it breaks you more too?” her voice was a whisper, one that dragged me closer when I kneeled onto my bed and found her eyes filling with tears.
Cupping her face in my hands, I didn’t let her head drop—whatever kind of ugly it was, it was mine. She was exposed in so many ways that it was easy to assess the scars she wore with no more filters or gloss that made them seem pretty. “I’m as damaged as they come, Evey. Tell me who he is.”
“He’s something worse than I can describe… He’s my stepbrother, the next in line to be King of Denmark... and the guy who-” her voice faded out like the rest was simply too hard to say out loud. I waited for her to pick up where she left off. “He was the one who punished me, he tailored the princess
shit to me like a glove, and I was forced to wear it. I hated every minute of acting like that and I know you hated it too, but it’s how I survived for you, Bowey.”
She wasn’t giving me the whole truth, but it was enough to point all my resources in his direction and make sure he gave me the truth without the tears.
Brushing my thumbs against her cheeks, I wiped the tears away like they never existed. It was too painful to see her cry, always had been.
Pushing my hands away, she sucked up the tears and sniffles and the toughness I had wanted back took over when she pushed my body further away too.
“You remind me of him when you’re like this, Bowen. You’re cold and mean until you see how badly it hurts me, then you play the nice guy like you are right now, wiping the tears away that you caused.”
My jaw tightened enough to swallow the kind of painful her words were. I was mean and I always regretted it, no lies there. I regret every ounce of awful I am and I have these moments of clarity that only Eve is capable of hand delivering to me.
I can’t abandon ship and pray to be someone new.
It’s easier to be the devil she doesn’t know than the wounded kid she knew before. That kid had no balls, no armor, and no idea how to handle life. Now I’m something different—something that apparently resembles the person taking credit for her wounds.
I went from being hurt to being pushed down against the pillows as she straddled my legs. “I need you, Bowen, not the whiplash of figuring out which version you’ll be each day because you want to make demands. You don’t get to tell me who I am after everything we’ve been through... it’s not easy to undo years of doing, but I’m your Evey, and I always will be. Can you be my Bowey for me or not?”
It didn’t sound like I had a choice. It sounded like demands and both my heart and my dick were okay with meeting all of her demands.
Simply nodding my head, I agreed to actively try to be less of an asshole to her without telling her it was always the plan once I got my Evey back.
My Evey didn’t deserve anything but the best parts of me.
EVE
I was dangerously close to telling him who Elias was, what Denmark was, when he shattered every part of me still holding onto survival.
It’s hard to survive; it’s harder to realize you’ve been saved. That set of skills die hard.
He wanted answers and the Bowen I used to know always had a way of getting them, with or without your help.
He chose cruelty with a side of kindness.
I never took into account that Bowen would resemble the enemy, that he would use th
e same tactics only wishing for a different outcome.
He wanted no trace of Denmark, but that shit was going to stain my soul, pretty princess or not. You can escape the worst places yet somehow you always take some of it with you.
What if he regrets having me back?
What if being his Evey only forces us to be honest about our wounds?
He said it himself, no refunds. I was an Astor now, and it wasn’t lost on me how beautiful he made the wedding he claimed to have no part in.
Each table had photos of us as kids along with little stories to go with them. Not even CeCe would know half of those stories—it was Bowey.
My Bowey, not the one who perfected regretting being nice.
Still straddling his legs after I made equal demands, I knew this was going to be painful and this position wasn’t going to make it any less painful.
Pain was comfortable after living in Denmark and being groomed for this role.
They had to break all my bad habits: individuality, my arrogant tone that loved to talk back, my independence, my selfish need to stay myself because that’s who Bowen knew best.
Breaking me was painful.
There were still shattered pieces of the old me living inside that stabbed through my surface when Bowen challenged me in a way I never thought he could. He always needed protecting, but now he was just as broken as I am—way past the point of protecting.
Lifting my hips up, my hands found his pants already undone. My fingertips toyed with the band on his boxer briefs enough to let my hand sneak down inside.
Bowen was already hard, and I knew it was because there was nothing pretty about me right now.
I was all the ugly he wanted.
“Eve.” Bowen’s voice was a warning against my skin when he sat up further, clutching onto my hands to keep them still, but we had barely even started.
His chest began to rise and fall quicker as he stared up at me—he wanted this too. He wanted this but the terrified look in his eyes begged me to be stronger for him, be the Eve he knew best, the one who ran into the dark expecting to slay our monsters.