by Rina Kent
“Catch me if you can, old man.”
“Old man?” he repeats slowly.
“Yeah, show me your stamina.”
“I did, not too long ago, and you were so exhausted, you fell asleep on me, remember?” He stands anyway, pulling his T-shirt over his head, then yanks down his shorts.
He went commando as well.
My feet falter in the sand at the view of him entirely naked, but I don’t get to stare for long when he charges towards me.
I squeal as I turn around and run in the direction of the beach. The water envelops my toes and calves in seconds. It’s a bit cold, and I shiver as it reaches above my knees, but I don’t stop my escape from Jonathan.
A strange sense of excitement grips me. It’s like those times when I used to hunt and stalk, but now, I’m not the predator, I’m the prey playing a game.
When I glance behind me, there’s no trace of Jonathan. I stop when the water reaches my waist and search around. Where did he go?
Did he leave? But I’m sure I heard him come in after me —
My thoughts are suddenly cut off when something grabs my calf and I shriek just as I’m being pulled under. Then the cold shock withers away as strong hands grip me by the arms and lead me back to the surface.
I gulp in a large intake of air, gasping, my fingers holding on to a muscular shoulder. I blink away the water in my eyes to make out the sight of Jonathan’s drenched face and his hair sticking to his temples. “Y-you!”
“Did you say something about stamina, wild one?”
“That’s not fair.”
“I never play fair.” His lips brush over my nose. “I play to win, remember?”
I do, and even though the notion scares me a bit, I can’t help but want more of it right now.
Splashing him in the face, I escape his hold and swim in the opposite direction.
He catches me in no time, but he also lets me go when he senses my need for a challenge.
It’s always been there, no matter how much I’ve tried to smother it. Challenges are what make me thrive, and Jonathan offers me that in the best way possible.
Will he still feel the same if he finds out that I’m as much of a monster as my father?
21
Jonathan
“What do you mean by, it’s null and void?” I ask Harris through the phone.
Aurora is taking a shower upstairs and I’ve come to the home office so she can’t listen to the conversation.
During the past few days we’ve spent on the island, she constantly demands to speak to Black Belt. If it were up to her, she would be sniffing for details about the news from England.
Not that I would let her. Whenever she tries to ask Layla, I either take the phone away or tell her there will be no more calls. She stopped trying to get around me after that.
I brought her here for multiple reasons, and the most important of all is not allowing her to see the articles written on her.
Her name and face are all over the media, and some of the victims’ families have come forward to say that she has the same look that’s in her father’s eyes. That they always thought she was unhinged like him.
I had Harris do some damage control, block articles and drive away the attention from Aurora’s personal life, but there’s only so much he can do. The media has always been obsessed with Maxim Griffin and his gruesome murders. The fact that he’s finally talking is giving them the chance to bring back the past and fully investigate it.
Now, Harris is telling me that my solicitor, who’s working on building a strong case for Aurora, says the whole prosecution’s questioning, and even the trial, will be smoke and mirrors.
Correction, he’s not my solicitor. I’ve never needed a criminal one before. Most of my hotshot solicitors specialise in corporate law. But I had my main law firm pick me the best criminal solicitor in the whole of the UK. Besides being known to have won all the criminal cases he’s taken, Alan Sheldon took the bar exam at the same time as Stephan Wayne — Maxim’s solicitor — and has also gone a few times against him.
From the outside looking in, that fact may seem trivial, but it’s not. Alan is the best, not only because of his unbeatable record, but also because he’s familiar with Stephan and his games prior to trials.
And Alan didn’t get the perfect record by being a saint. He’s been known to use every method under the sun to get his wins — moral or immoral. That’s why he’s a good fit.
While I don’t trust people, I trust his need to keep his serial wins. When someone has ego as a driving force, nothing stops them.
“Alan told me the prosecution has absolutely no evidence against Aurora,” Harris continues in his half-bored, half-sleepy voice. It’s the middle of the night there, not that he minds — I don’t think. He’s a workaholic with zero life outside of King Enterprises. “They thoroughly investigated her eleven years ago. There was nothing that hinted that she knew or participated in Maxim’s crimes.”
“Are you telling me Maxim’s solicitor is going after her as a ploy?”
“Probably. Alan says Maxim wants to drag her down, just to show his power.”
“No. There’s more to it.” I take a sip of my cognac, savouring the burn. “If he only wanted to drag her down, he would’ve done it a long time ago. Something triggered him. Look into it.”
“I did hear a tale some time ago.”
“And why have you waited this long to tell me? You’re losing your touch, Harris.”
“I didn’t think it was important at the time.” He goes into defence mode. “I still don’t, but it could be of value.”
“Go on.”
“When Aurora first entered your life, I met with a few of Maxim’s inmates.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I didn’t trust her, okay? She came out of nowhere and could’ve played that entire thing with Ethan just to get close to you.”
“What is this nonsense? You honestly think someone can use me?”
“No. But I don’t trust people, especially new people. Better safe than sorry.”
“And? What did your distrustful journey bring?”
“There was one of Maxim’s inmates who was later transferred to a mental institute. Robert Hill. He was convicted for killing his wife and mother-in-law with a kitchen knife. He stabbed his wife twenty times and his mother-in-law fifty times, then went to the police station and handed himself in. Anyway, Robert told me that Maxim has a muse, and when I asked him what he meant by that, he said that Maxim gets inspiration by seeing his muse, and when he doesn’t see her, he feels like he’s missing something. Robert said that Maxim keeps her picture with him at all times.”
“Is it Aurora?”
“No clue. Robert said he doesn’t allow anyone to see it, and since Maxim is in solitary confinement, no other inmate has managed to take a look. He also said that Maxim is proud of his muse, saying it’s because of her that he found his true self after years of floundering with no clear path. His muse is his freedom. Robert connected with that — the freedom part — because killing his wife and mother-in-law gave him his so-called freedom.”
I scratch my chin. It must be Aurora. I thought Maxim was making this ruckus and asking for parole to take revenge against her, but if it’s because he wants to see her, there’s a problem.
He wouldn’t just want to see her. Someone like Maxim will always want more. He and I are similar on that front. The need for more isn’t a luxury — it’s a biological need that cannot be stopped.
It’s power.
For him, it’s the fake god-like power that comes with controlling someone else’s life before eventually ending it.
For me, it’s the rush of control and the fact that I have so much ahead of me rather than behind me. The more I acquire, the more doors open in my way.
“Have you heard anything from your contact with Tristan?” Harris asks.
I down half my glass in one go. “Not yet. Tristan says Kyle does everything h
is way. It’s a game of waiting now.”
“How long are we supposed to wait for this Kyle to bring in results?”
“As long as it takes.”
“We don’t have as long as it takes.”
“Your impatience is your weakness, Harris. School it.”
“We have work to do. I’ve cancelled three important meetings since you left.”
“Three meetings aren’t the end of the world.”
“With all due respect, it is, sir. I’ve never had to cancel such important meetings before.”
“You didn’t cancel them, you rescheduled them.”
“Same effect. I’m getting anxiety attacks.”
“You don’t even know what an anxiety attack means.”
“I do now. I googled it.”
“Stop whining, Harris.”
“If you come back, we can hide Aurora and —”
“No.”
“You didn’t hear me out.”
“Any option that includes putting her life and mental state in jeopardy is declined.”
“Levi is right to say you’re smitten,” he mutters under his breath.
“Since when are you friends with that punk?”
“He gives me free football game tickets.”
“You don’t even like football.”
“They’re still free tickets.”
I shake my head. “Let me know if there are any changes.”
“Let me know when you decide to finally return.”
“Won’t be happening in the near future. Do you have anything on Jake?”
“I’m close.”
“Good. I need him to pay. I don’t care which methods you use.” The accountant who stole Aurora’s hard-earned money doesn’t get to live his life as if nothing happened.
He might’ve given me the opening to sneak into her life, but he, like anyone who hurts her, won’t escape my wrath.
The door opens, and I pause with my drink halfway to my mouth. Aurora comes inside wearing a light blue summer dress. Her hair is loose and falls over her shoulders and down her back. Judging by the peaks of her nipples, she’s not wearing a bra.
That’s a sight I can become accustomed to.
She’s been freer lately, wearing as little as possible and getting rid of the clothes whenever she sees fit.
Not that I’m complaining.
In the past few days, I’ve fucked her in all positions possible. It doesn’t matter if she’s trying to read a book or cook or exercise, whenever I get the chance, I seize it.
Then sometimes, she’ll take my hand and we’ll go on long walks at dusk or dawn. She’s revisiting her passion of hiking and discovering. I’ll never get used to the way her eyes shine whenever she witnesses some picturesque scenery. It’s like she stops breathing and gets lost in the moment.
I’ve never found things beautiful, per se. The first and only thing I think about concerning the outside world is whether it’s useful in my end goal or not.
Aurora is different. She stops and stares. She appreciates the little things and doesn’t take anything for granted. And, in a way, her strong passion about living life to its fullest has been rubbing off on me.
Or perhaps it’s because I get to see the spark in her eyes and the brightness in her features that haven’t been dimmed by her past.
The contradictions in her persona are fascinating. On one hand, she’s so sure of herself that she started her own business. But on the other hand, it seems as if she’s still a toddler when it comes to the world.
The number of things she’s said are ‘her first’ is higher than I would’ve thought. I use it to my favour, though, and make all those firsts happen so that I can watch her face light up in wonder.
Like the plane, the island, and everything in between. I’m taking that woman to every corner of the world so she can live her life as she was always meant to.
But for now, I’m keeping her occupied here by the exotic views and hikes. Aurora also loves swimming in the night, but she holds on to me, afraid something will catch her in the dark.
Despite her adventurous nature, Aurora still tosses and turns during her sleep. She still shivers whenever I touch her scar and tattoo. She still can’t purge the past from her head, no matter how hard she tries.
“Won’t be happening in the near future,” I tell Harris and hang up.
Aurora stops in front of me, and I turn the chair so I’m facing her. “What won’t happen?”
“Nothing you should worry about.”
If hiding the truth will keep her temporarily safe, then I’m ready to buy more time.
“Tell me.”
“I’d rather do something better than talking.” I wrap a hand around her arse and pull her so she’s standing between my legs.
A smile grazes her full lips as she clutches me by the shoulders. “Jonathan, stop it.”
“Are you wearing the plug?” I’ve been making her wear different butt plugs for the past few days, and while she whines, she hasn’t taken any of them out unless I tell her to.
She bites her lower lip. “What if I’m not?”
“Then I’ll punish you.”
“Punish me?” The subtle arousal in her voice as she says the word ‘punish’ gets my dick hard against my trousers.
“Disobedience gets you in trouble, so yes, Aurora. I will.”
“How?”
“How do you think?”
“You’ll spank me?”
“Amongst other things.” My voice drops. “By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll scream the whole house down.”
Her breathing visibly hitches and her nipples turn as hard as pebbles against the dress. I sink my teeth around one over the cloth and tug. Aurora’s nails dig into my shoulders as she moans, her chest thrusting into my face.
“Bend over,” I order.
She pulls back and gulps a few breaths. “J-Jonathan, w-wait…”
“There will be no waiting. Bend over and show me that arse. Let me see if you’ve been a good girl today.”
“Jonathan. Please.” Her nails sink deeper into my skin, and it’s obvious that she’s fighting her arousal.
The desperation and anxiousness in her dark blue gaze stops me. That’s an expression I don’t ever want to see on her face again.
The need to ravage her slowly dissipates, replaced by the urge to wipe away that expression. “What is it?”
“What were you talking about before I came in?” Though she’s still touching me, the look in her gaze is numb — like the one she had in the footages of Maxim’s trial eleven years ago. I recently watched them after Harris sent them over and I can’t erase the expression from my brain. She appeared like someone so damaged, they were done with life.
“It’s about my dad, isn’t it?” she asks in a small voice.
“He has no case. It’s his word against yours and all evidence points at him.”
“Just because I didn’t commit the murders of those women, doesn’t mean I’m not an accomplice.”
I lift my hands so they’re resting on her waist. “What are you talking about?”
The spark that always shines in her face slowly dims until it’s non-existent. “We hunted together — Dad and I, I mean. I got off on it, and I looked forward to it. The reason I followed him that day was because I thought he was hunting without me. True, I didn’t like killing the animals, but stalking, following trails and blocking their exits? I loved all of that. I might have loved it a bit too much. So what if I didn’t hurt those women? I have my father’s sadistic nature, and I’m…a monster like him. I just never got the chance to fully grow into my character. So maybe I deserve this — the trial, the media, the unwanted attention. It’s been long overdue.”
“Nonsense.”
Aurora blinks away the moisture gathering in her lids. “W-what?”
“You’re not a murderer. Hunting is allowed by law. Thinking you’re just like Maxim because you enjoyed hunting with him doesn’t make you a
monster, it makes you a daughter. He was your only parent, and it’s natural that you were attached to him and picked up his hobbies. The fact that you didn’t get off on killing the animals and that you reported him means you’re cut from a different cloth than him. Don’t let his media games mess with your head. That’s exactly his purpose behind this entire masquerade.”
She blinks again, and this time, the light slowly returns. Those dark blues that shouldn’t be allowed to lose their spark. Not eleven years ago, and certainly not now.
My fingers trace over the cloth where I know her scar and tattoo are. She shivers, her lids slightly drooping.
“Why did you get the closed eye over the wound?”
“When I was stabbed, I fell into the eighth grave — the same one you got me out of. I was delirious when I finally regained consciousness and got myself out. When I first looked at the wound, it felt like I was looking at Mari-Jane’s eyes — the one I witnessed being dragged. The wound felt just like her eyes, along with every other victim’s. At the time, I couldn’t sleep because their vacant gazes always visited me. I still can’t sometimes.”
So that’s the reason behind her nightmares. I don’t stop stroking her scar and Aurora leans into me, her nails digging into my shoulder again as if she’s afraid she’ll lose her balance.
“After I sutured that wound, I got the tattoo of the closed eye. I thought that…after Dad was sentenced, they could rest in peace, you know?” Her voice cracks. “Not now, though. They can’t be in peace if he gets out.”
“He won’t. He has no evidence against you.”
Her attention shifts to the block of books behind me, to the window, and even the table. She stares at any place but at me.
“Aurora, look at me.”
Her gaze slowly finds mine, and it’s only when she’s fully focused on me that I say, “You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me?”
Her lips tremble and she lets her fingers intertwine at the back of my head. “I never thought anyone would ever tell me that.”
“I will — every day if I have to — until you believe it.”
“God.” She smiles, but it’s not exactly joyful. The pain still lingers there like a ghost ready to pounce. “You’re nothing like how you were in the past.”