“Abigail Crowne,” Theo taunted with another powerful thrust. “So unloved she can’t love in return.”
“Abigail Crowne”—thrust—“has told herself so many lies the truth looks fake.”
Theo pushed deeper and deeper until I could only gasp. Deeper than I ever thought I could take, harder than I thought I could manage.
“Abigail Crowne”—thrust—“a pathetic, rejected princess.”
“Why are you doing this?” Tears streamed down my cheeks, not from physical pain, but from the brutal, emotional battering I was receiving. Physically, Theo was driving me to ecstasy.
The combination was ripping me apart. He was weaving two existing dichotomies inside me irrevocably together.
“I thought you loved me, Abigail? I thought you loved me even if I betrayed you.”
The worst, most cruel part about this is I still did love him. I wanted to take it away, I wanted to break it, I wanted to forget my love for him ever existed, but I couldn’t. It was throbbing and bruised from what was happening, but it was there.
His eyes were red, and I could almost convince myself that this hurt him as much as it was hurting me, but then he pulled out, flipping me onto my stomach so I couldn’t see his face. He grabbed my hips, pulling me against him, so rock hard.
He yanked my hair, pulling my ear to his lips. “You don’t deserve this cock, Reject.”
He dropped me, and I bounced on the mattress, and he was inside me again. The new position was too much, too deep. Every thrust driving me higher.
“Look at me.”
I shook my head, so he grabbed hair that had taken hours to braid, yanking it and lifting my head. “Look at me, Reject.”
The black window mirrored our image inside the diamond-shaped golden lattice. I saw our relationship, a hundred different reflections of what we’d become, dark and twisted and wrong.
I still saw Theo too clearly in the window. His beautiful, sculpted features next to me, his lips even more plump from kissing me. My hair was nearly all down. Messed. Tangled from him.
He slowed his thrusts, watching my reaction just like before, and it was so much worse. Too deliberate, almost tender, as he fucked me atop my sister’s ball gown. A ball gown I could now see had twisted inexorably with my own. His lips came to my ear, eyes still locked with mine. His words were low and steady, gentle even, as if they weren’t going to rip me apart.
“Truth or promise?”
“I don’t want to play this game with you.” Tears reflected back at me, my makeup entirely ruined.
He slid out, then back in—deeper. I gasped, clawing at the sheets—her ball gown—I realized. Still going the same, deliberate pace, but now deeper, harder. I was on the edge, begging to jump off, but Theo held me back by the collar.
Shivers slid inside my veins and I could barely breathe, let alone speak.
“Truth or promise, Reject, and I’ll let you come.”
“Promise,” I gasped instantly.
He froze, body and eyes rigid, but still dug into my hip with his hand. For a moment, I saw old Theo, sweet Theo. I’d only ever made him one promise, after all.
I promise, Theo. I promise I’ll never let you go.
Then he rammed into me again, this time harder, faster. I was going to come. I could feel it.
“Promise you don’t love me, Abigail,” he commanded, voice dark.
“What?” I gasped.
How could he ask that of me?
Theo continued to slide in and out, and I was reaching that addicting moment where you’d do anything to reach the peak. Selling my soul seemed like a good trade, if only Theo would…just…keep…going.
“Promise,” he gritted.
It wasn’t his command, or even my need, that made me say it. He was nearly out of breath, fingers bruising my thighs, like he was trying to keep himself from coming, but his thumb… his thumb softly traced my hip, back and forth. It was almost like he didn’t know he was doing it. How treacherous that a show of affection would topple me.
“I—”
Just before I was about to speak and damn myself for eternity, Theo spoke over me.
“Promise you’ll never say ‘I love you,’ promise you’ll never make another goddamn promise to anyone again.”
When he slammed the final nail in my coffin, it didn’t matter, I was already over the edge, and the words were already leaving my lips.
We came together. As I exploded back into a thousand pieces that only Theo had been able to put back together, I promised I wouldn’t love him.
Or anyone else.
It still hadn’t settled when Theo put on his black slacks. I didn’t realize what happened, how badly we were broken. I hadn’t moved, but he was getting dressed. I sat up, trying and failing to clasp my ripped bodice together.
“Where are you going?”
He eyed me, pants undone. “Somewhere. Anywhere.”
“But you’ll be back in my wing by tonight.”
A wrinkle formed above his brow. “No, Abigail. I won’t.”
He continued dressing.
He was leaving me in a ripped ball gown. He was leaving me ripped.
“Are you going back to my grandfather?”
He shook his head, and my chest caved.
Theo was leaving.
Again.
For good.
“You can’t leave,” I practically screamed. “You’re mine. I mean”—I tried to stifle my emotion—“I own you. I’ve owned you from day one. You belong to Abigail Crowne.”
He paused.
“It says so here.” I lifted my wrist, showing the bracelet I still wore. I hated how my voice trembled. “You belong to me.” He’d always belonged to me, before I knew it, before he knew it.
He was mine.
I was his.
He glanced absently at my wrist, where the bracelet I’d given him as a child lay.
Then, without so much as a flitter of emotion, he ripped it off. Pastel beads clattered violently to the marble floor. My breath caught and clambered in my lungs as they bounced on the floor.
I like you having something of mine. To think of me.
Whatever strength remained inside me vanished as beads slid under furniture, vanishing into shadows. I was a broken radio, static switching from numb to broken to pained. I didn’t know I could feel this amount of pain. My chest was ripping open. I thought the first time Theo left was brutal.
This…
This would end me.
Theo finished dressing. In black slacks and his white undershirt, he still looked like a celebrity. He was ruffled, and he made it look good. I resented that.
He headed to the door, and I thought I would have to watch him walk away. I thought he was through with me. I was foolish. I thought the pain in that moment was the worst I would ever feel. I was naïve.
He looked back at me, like I was an afterthought. “Say thank you.”
At first I couldn’t do anything but stare back, my words lost in shock. He couldn’t be serious.
Theo didn’t so much as smirk at me. He waited, bored yet still infuriatingly hot, watching me like I was some waiter taking too long with his order. He was serious. He really wanted me to say thank you.
I summoned rage. Good, easy, numbing rage. “Fuck you.”
“I will,” he said, nodding, walking back to me as he spoke. “If you don’t say thank you. I’ll make you come on her dress over and over, until you associate her with feeling that good.”
I looked up, shocked, staring into his eyes. Part of me couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe the boy who’d saved me had become this way.
Evil. Theo was evil. What did it make me that I gave in to temptation so easily? Because as much as I knew he would go through with that promise, I knew I would let him. I hated him, I hated myself, but I still craved him.
Bruising or tender, biting or soft, I needed him.
I was pathetic.
“Say it.”
“No.�
��
A part of me wanted to keep saying no so he would have to go through with his threats.
He tilted his head, as if reading my mind. “Sweet girl, that would break you.” His voice was soft then, his touch softer.
That, more than anything he’d done, broke me.
He can’t call me by such sweet names while obliterating my soul into such small pieces they can never be repaired. It fucks with my head—but that’s Theo, and that’s why I’m so strung out on him. Theo is the moment after agonizing pain subsides, when stark relief has you high and you’ve sworn you’ve never felt so good. It’s the most addicting thing I’ve ever felt.
Be mean to me just so I can hear you say nice words.
I jerked my head away, but he caught me, slowly bringing my gaze back to him, digging into my jawbone, soft touch returning brutal.
I knew he was done telling me what to do, just like I knew I had to do it. I wouldn’t look him in the eye for this humiliation. His grasp on my chin still harsh, I looked down. I focused on the fine needlework of my dress now ripped from his hands. Teardrops stained the white chiffon. Soon everything blurred in my tears.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
It burned through me like hot smoke, staining my insides irrevocably.
Theo laughed and dropped my chin. “You’re welcome.”
Twenty-Nine
THEO
I’d barely made it out of the room before I doubled over, heaving whatever was in my stomach. It didn’t help. I was still festering inside.
Promise you’ll never say I love you, promise you’ll never make another goddamn promise to anyone again.
Fuck, I hadn’t meant to say that. The thought of Abigail loving someone else tore me up. It had no right, but it did.
Selfish.
Cruel.
Unavoidable.
Another round of heaving seized my gut, this one dry.
“That was one of my favorite vases.”
I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Tansy Crowne leaned against the railing, behind her the domed ballroom ceiling and massive chandelier. If there was one good thing to come of this, it would be never seeing Tansy Crowne again.
She arched a brow, like she’d read my thoughts.
“You wanted me gone, I’m gone. She’s not following.”
“You’re so sure—”
“I fucked her sister.”
Her brows rose, and she blinked thrice.
I’d surprised the implacable Tansy… with a lie.
It didn’t matter; it had still burned like the truth. Abigail had still been crushed under its weight. I still wouldn’t be able to go back to her, couldn’t save myself and say, Love me again. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not actually that guy. You were wrong.
Truth, lie, it was still razing and blighted betrayal.
The only difference was I might be able to sleep at night.
Maybe.
All Gemma and I did was kiss, and that was for show. I probably should have done more; it would’ve made the break cleaner. Would’ve made the temptation to go back to Abigail easier to avoid, but it was simply transactional between Gemma and me. Gemma needed something of mine, and I took that opportunity. In exchange, Gemma gave me her dress and lingerie. I don’t know why she needed what she took. She wasn’t going to tell me, and I didn’t have it in me to care.
I glanced down the hallway. I didn’t know how long I had until Abigail got off the floor. I rubbed my chest, trying not to think about her on it. Below us, the party still continued on… her engagement party.
“Your turn,” I said.
There were two things I needed from Tansy Crowne. Abigail’s security updated, and Edward Harlington gone from her life forever. In exchange, I had to do one terrible deed. In the long run, it was nothing.
Break up with her.
But not just break up with her. Tansy made it pretty fucking clear Abigail couldn’t follow me, couldn’t contact me, couldn’t so much as look for me. In return, she’d break off the engagement, she’d get her guards, she’d get a life she should’ve had, the one I couldn’t give.
The life she should’ve had.
“Abigail was curiously absent for her engagement party and photos.” Tansy pinned me with a knowing look, and another wave of nausea hit. “It will be easy to change the story. No one will ever know there was an engagement. It was just another party.”
It seemed like every ugly, jagged piece of this puzzle had fallen into place. But I did wonder what was in this for someone like Tansy Crowne.
She arched an artfully plucked brow. “Something on your mind, Theo?”
“Why?” I didn’t expect Tansy to tell me, but I had to ask.
“You don’t belong here, Theo. You never did. Abigail’s weakness threatens all of us.”
I don’t know why it had taken me so long to realize Tansy Crowne was the puppet master pulling and ripping apart our strings. If I’d taken one look beyond us, it would have made so much more sense.
“It was you. You sent me away.”
She tilted her head. “Of course.”
That single head tilt threw me, nearly made it impossible to speak. Tansy was never trying to hide she’d done it. Abigail and I were both just too blinded by our fears.
All these years wasted, and now too late for any more.
“Would you ever have approved of me?” I wondered.
“No,” she said easily.
It didn’t matter anyway. It was over now.
I straightened.
“I’m sure you know if you don’t come through on your end of the deal, I’ll be watching,” I said. “I don’t have a billion dollars or endless resources, but I love her, and I have nothing to lose now.”
Tansy watched me with a shrewd look, rubbing two fingers together absently. I decided I was done staring into the face of the devil and turned to go.
I knew a happily ever after with Abigail wasn’t in the cards. When I took this charge, all I ever thought I could hope for was revenge. Yet hope for something more had broken through like weeds in the cement. There were moments after Tansy presented her deal when I’d thought love could overcome everything. I’d nearly caved when Abigail told me she found my mother.
Could she see how much it meant to me? Was my anger too transparent? Did she see the hurt beneath?
Abigail was the only one who ever cared.
Still, at every turn, I was reminded how fucking naïve that was.
Abigail and I were a fairy tale I was foolish to believe in. At least when I left, she would be taken care of, for real.
Thirty
ABIGAIL
It’s my birthday, I thought blandly.
It’s been a week and I haven’t changed out of the ball gown Theo took me in. I’m sure I smelled. Mother nearly threw a fit when I appeared at my engagement party looking like a Pride and Prejudice and Zombies reject.
I don’t give a shit.
I haven’t moved from my bed, either. No, that was a lie. Theo left his hoodie, and like a junkie addicted to the drug that’s nearly killed her twice, I put it on. To cover my ripped bodice, I said.
Not because it smelled like him.
Or felt like him, soft and warm.
A week hasn’t done anything. It still feels like it’s happening. I relived it over and over again. I couldn’t cry anymore. My tear ducts threw up their hands, out of water. I felt the moment inside me, though. Like too much alcohol or bad seafood. Felt him choose her and leave me. Felt the stupid hope I had that I could have had some kind of happily ever after, been more than Abigail Crowne, Reject Princess.
Someday I will be special. Someday I will mean something to someone. Someday I won’t be so alone.
I think it’s ironic the hope that was once the only thing keeping me going, was the very hope Theo Hound used to obliterate me.
Sweet girl, I would never leave you, not willingly, not unless I had to.
The words he’d
spoken to me the day I’d dropped my walls once more for him zinged through me.
Fucking liar.
I wiped my eyes, wishing anger would drown out the sorrow.
My laptop pinged, and I eyed it warily. A new email. Using it for the distraction it was, I dragged it off the floor and into my lap.
A new message from the private investigator I’d hired, letting me know he’d found Theo’s mom’s address.
I didn’t want this information. I didn’t fucking want it. It assaulted me. I didn’t want to know anything about Theo, let alone have this information, anchoring me to him.
I slammed the laptop shut, breathing heavy. I focused on the sound of the waves, trying to steady my breath, when I noticed my freckle. All hope of steady breath vanished.
That was the difference between Theo and me. He’d ripped that bracelet off me so easily, but I still have him inside me, just a few millimeters away from my bloodstream.
I couldn’t fucking take it anymore. I jumped off my bed and got out of my stifling room.
I hate Gemma, and the last few days I’ve been imaging various ways I can ship her to Antarctica, but she can still help me.
I opened my door and stopped short. Four tall, menacing-looking men in black suits stood inside my suite. Just like that, four Theo shaped holes blasted into my chest.
When I moved from my suite, they followed me like shadows. I looked over my shoulder, slightly unnerved. They were even armed. When I opened the door to my wing, a fucking alarm went off.
I wondered what I’d done to piss off my mom so much to gather this much oversight.
They followed me all the way to my sister’s wing, not speaking when I entered her room without permission.
Theo would’ve said something.
And there was that pain.
Gemma had a secret she thought no one knew. I pulled an orange bottle out of a Louis Vuitton clutch she kept in her closet, opening the cap and dumping the contents into my hand. Little white pills fell into my palm. Little white pills she’d stolen from Mom, pills Mom didn’t need a reason for, because she donated so much to the hospital the doctor would prescribe whatever the fuck she wanted.
Heartless Hero Page 24