“There won’t be any escape for us.”

  He leans back, scrubbing a hand through his hair, gazing off into the distance while I lie awkwardly underneath him.

  “Do you really think that little of me?” I hiss, wriggling out from beneath his legs. “I have told you that I like you, every single bit of who you are, and you’re telling me that I am too good for you?”

  He shifts, and I draw my legs into my chest. “No offense, but shouldn’t I be the one to decide? What you’re saying is the lame version of, ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ No. I don’t agree, Aaron.”

  My chest heaves, and my breathing comes out in short gasps.

  We are hanging on a knife’s edge at this moment. Whatever the outcome, the two of us will be different after all this. Things are changing—for the better or worse, I couldn’t say. All I know right now is that I am all in whatever this is, so I reach forward to cup his face in my hand. He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch slightly, and I take that cue.

  “Aaron. I love you. Not like a brother. I am in love with you. I have been for a while. I can’t take it anymore. Please, just tell me if you feel the same or not. This is killing me inside.”

  His eyes open and we stay there in our little bubble for a while. His beautiful blues connect with mine as he seems to reach to that part of me, stoking the flames inside of my soul.

  “Fuck it,” he breathes eventually. “I really have been trying to keep away for your own good, but this is torture. You’re all dressed up like my personal wet dream, and Carter knows it. I would bet he is the one who orchestrated all of this, knowing how much you looking like this would make me snap.”

  My chest nearly collapses when I release the breath I had been holding, and it whooshes out with relief. To hear him say those words to me, shit. It’s better than anything I could have imagined.

  Something else he said pierces my thoughts. Dressed up like his personal wet dream.

  Oh. Oh. The cheeky fucker. Carter knew how much I wanted a bike and didn’t fight me on it when I asked for his help to go behind Aaron’s back. Now I know why. He planned this. My personal cupid.

  He’s now definitely my favorite. Cemented to be number one for the rest of my life. I make a vow to do whatever I can to help him with his own demons.

  “I love you too, Ella,” Aaron murmurs. “I’m not going to hide it anymore. Let me take you out on a proper date. I’ve never done anything like that before either, and you deserve it.”

  My heart sings for joy at his words that I have been waiting so long to hear. He gives me a kiss, and this one is tender, full of future promise and hope.

  Of a future that is looking happier with Aaron in it with me.

  Ella

  Present Day

  Time moves sluggishly as we wait for news on Carter and if he is going to wake up soon. In the meantime, all I can think about is that momentary lapse in judgement that made me reach out to Aaron for comfort when I felt Carter’s hand twitch underneath mine.

  Do not let him affect you again, Ella, my brain chastises me.

  But as much as I hate him, my stupid ass brain is making me relive all the good times with Aaron and Carter. The emotion of feeling his fingers twitch hit me harder than I imagined.

  After Aaron left me that night, while I was devastated, the anger and betrayal clouded all the good times we had together. I was so hurt, and it stung even more because the others followed him like obedient little sheep and left me alone too. With no friends and completely broken.

  It was torture.

  But now, seeing them all here—minus Rex so far—has stirred the feelings and emotions I tried so hard to tamp down. I should be more upset at the fact Matt isn't here, and that I'm basically a prisoner; but something seems to be wrong with me, because all I feel is relief.

  It's so fucked up that I don’t know how to process it. Don’t get me wrong, I love Matt so much, but the wedding put a ton of stress on me and I felt like I was drowning underneath it all.

  I’m a damaged person through and through. Honestly, a therapist would have a field day with trying to unravel my fucked up brain.

  But that's a problem for future Ella. All I'm going to do is focus on Carter and hope he wakes up soon.

  Three more days have passed and despite that initial excitement of feeling him move, the doctors have told us to remain cautiously optimistic, but don’t hope for it to happen soon. Basically, they’re trying to be nice and say don’t get our hopes up too much.

  I've just been moping in my room, not wanting to face anyone, occupying myself with dark thoughts. Mainly about what the others have been up to in these past seven years.

  My need for caffeine overrides logical thought though, and before I can stop myself, I slip out of my door in search of the kitchen. Someone has been delivering food to the door, so I don't starve. Thankfully, no one has pushed me to come out of my room, but it’s time for me once again to face the past. To tell my stupid brain to stop obsessing about Aaron.

  As if summoned, the devil himself leans against the kitchen countertop when I arrive there, shirtless, drinking a coffee while reading a newspaper. He’s wearing dark-rimmed reading glasses, and I swear my fucking ovaries clap for joy at the sight.

  What is it about a heavily tattooed man with reading glasses that makes my mouth dry out? All the moisture goes straight to my traitorous core. He just screams danger, stay away, but of course, my clit pays attention to that. Traitor.

  His caramel hair is swept haphazardly over his eyes, which adds to the whole ‘face of an angel, body of the devil’ persona as he places the paper down to give me a grin. With a dimple. Asshole.

  “It’s nice to see you out and about, Eleanor. I’d almost forgotten what you look like.” He turns his back to me, playing with the coffee machine, pressing some buttons to get it working. He piles in some coffee beans and waits while the machine does its job before putting in the cream and sugar.

  “Here.” He hands me the huge mug. “Large coffee, just how I remember you liked it.”

  I reach out to grab it with both hands and pray he can’t see my hands trembling slightly. “Actually, it’s no sugar. I try to avoid too much sweetness now.”

  I sniff, taking a small sip, almost moaning with delight.

  He doesn’t miss it, though, his lips curling in a sneer. “You know, I have heard from a few people that when you met Matthew, you changed. The girl I used to know loved processed food. In fact, you used to tell us that your blood would come out like the slushies you craved so much.” He steps into my space, staring intensely at me.

  I take a small step backwards, just trying to get away from his heat and domineering presence that clouds all sensible judgement.

  “You don’t know shit about me. I’ve said this before, but the girl you know—the one who loved you—is dead,” I spit, slamming my mug down angrily.

  It misses the counter, smashing onto the floor with a loud crash. The liquid spews out everywhere. The darkness spreads, inching towards my feet.

  Aaron doesn’t even seem to notice. His laser focus is solely on me.

  “Is that what you think? To me it seems that you have forgotten yourself. The girl I knew would never change who she is to please others.” His voice is low, taking on a dangerous quality which sends chills skittering over my flesh.

  I take a step when the hot liquid touches my foot, but he picks me up with ease, placing me on the counter, ignoring my cry of protest.

  He spreads my legs apart, forcing himself into the gap he’s created to get right in my personal space. At this height, he leans over me slightly, forehead nearly touching mine in a really intimate gesture. My eyes close for a moment before coming to my senses.

  I put a hand on his rock-hard chest, feeling it tense under my touch. “No. Aaron, you can’t do this. You kidnapped me, for fuck’s sake—”

  He stops me with a bruising kiss, not even trying to be gentle as his tongue invades my mouth. Despite trying desperately to hold back, I let out a breathy moan, melting into it. Aaron grips the back of my head, threading his fingers through my hair, tugging slightly. It’s all consuming and intense.

  I break away with a gasp, staring at him. He brings his other hand up to run his thumb over my swollen lips. His eyes sparkle with something in their depths. I can't quite make it out, but it looks like guilt and regret.

  “So beautiful. I’m never letting you go again.”

  He picks me up, his hands gripping my thighs, ignoring my wriggling of protest. He steps over the broken shards of the mug, heading towards the immense oak table by the window that overlooks an azure sea.

  He drops me gently on it. I scoot backwards, but I’m stopped from going any farther when he catches my ankle deftly, sliding me back towards him.

  “I don’t think so, firecracker,” he murmurs.

  “Uh—” I start, but he grips my hair again, giving me another punishing kiss that sends all thoughts emptying from my head.

  Fuck.

  He moves his other hand under my dress, drifting leisurely down my body. My skin burns like an inferno under his touch. Aaron’s hand grazes the apex of my thigh, and despite wanting to tell him to fuck off, I release another breathy moan. He pulls away from me, grinning darkly at me panting and conflicted beneath him.

  “There she is,” he breathes, pressing a thumb over my clit and making my back arch with the sensation.

  A distant part of my brain is screaming at me to stop, to run away; but at the moment, I’m stuck here underneath his huge body.

  Not that he would stop, judging by that possessive gleam shining in his eyes, or his cock straining hard against the confines of his jeans.

  The dark chuckle that escapes him warns me he’s going to do something moments before his head disappears. His warm breath flutters over my soaking pussy and I give a guttural moan, the ache between my legs becoming unbearable. He suddenly attacks me like a starving man having a drink for the first time, nipping and sucking while I writhe. My legs clamp down on either side of his head.

  “Ah, fuck,” I breathe, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as he works me into a frenzy.

  I don’t know what he is doing with his tongue over my clit, but it’s so fucking intense and my orgasm builds so quickly that all I can do is scream, gripping his hair as he brings me over the edge.

  Aaron pulls his head back, and our eyes collide. His pupils have dilated so much that all I can see is the faintest sliver of blue. He makes a show of licking his lips slowly, and I can’t help but watch his tongue track over his mouth.

  “Your pussy tastes like the sweetest of sins, babe. I’ve waited years for that, and it’s better than I remember.”

  The words filter through my orgasm-muddled state, and I try to move, but he’s still pinning me down.

  “This changes nothing. I still hate you, Aaron,” I hiss.

  He shakes his head and rubs a thumb softly over my clit with a smirk as I jerk under his touch. “This is getting old now, Ella. Stop trying to hide how much you want this. I can see it in your eyes that you want me.”

  “I think you’re high. The only thing you can see in my eyes is loathing. You might be a great fuck, but underneath all that, you’re a shit human being.” My voice comes out a lot stronger—which I’m so grateful for—but he doesn’t back off.

  He narrows his eyes at me, thumb still circling lazily around my clit.

  “We will have to see about that, won't we, baby?”

  My eyes widen as he slowly unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down so his huge length springs free.

  “Tell me you don’t want this,” he purrs, hovering over me to claim my mouth again, stopping any protest.

  I wriggle backwards as he stops the kiss, yanks my dress off, and then takes my nipple in his mouth. He bites down on it, which sends a jolt of pain through me that quickly turns back into pleasure when he pushes a finger into me. It’s followed by another, and he growls when I clench around him.

  “So tight,” he breathes, while I become an incoherent mess.

  Despite myself, despite everything, I exhale with a quiet, breathy moan. “Yes.”

  Finally, he pulls out, and I almost whimper at the loss. But he presses his cock to my entrance, pushing in achingly slowly. I hiss as he flexes his hips, pulling out most of the way before thrusting in with one rough motion.

  I scream as he pushes me down on the table and picks up his speed. He lifts my leg over his shoulder while increasing his pace. My eyes close as he pounds me relentlessly. A brutal, punishing fuck. It's almost on the edge of pain, but as he pinches my clit hard, I clench around him, seeing stars. He grunts, thrusting a few more times before I feel him thicken as he finishes in me.

  We lie there panting for a beat, staring at each other before, finally, the reality comes crashing down on me. He pulls out slowly, and a sticky wetness coats the inside of my thighs.

  I sit up, pushing past him to run back to my room. I make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet. My legs fold under me as I curl against the cool porcelain. Tears stream down my cheeks and splash on the floor.

  What have I done?

  My emotions are all over the place. I can't believe I thought about Matt earlier and I felt relieved to be away. Now after all this with Aaron, I feel ill. This isn't me at all. But he caught me in a moment.

  Fuck, he didn’t even use protection—didn't even ask—just took what he wanted, and I didn't even complain. In fact, it was the best fucking sex I’ve had since… well… him. It’s not even Aaron’s fault completely. I didn't exactly throw him off me.

  I retch again, but there is nothing left in me. My heart feels hollow. What the fuck will Matt say when he finds out about this?

  After a while, I heave myself up, groaning at the ache between my legs, and turn the huge shower on. I stand under the warm flow of water, my head pressed against the cool tiles.

  Something touches my back, and I whirl around to see Aaron standing there. His expression is unreadable. He doesn’t say a word and my heart lurches. He comes into the shower with me and silently stands in his boxers in front of me. This shower is so big that it could hold about six people comfortably, but right now, all I feel is suffocated.

  He reaches forward and lifts my chin with his finger, so I’m forced to look at him. We stand like this for ages, not moving, and it’s only when his thumb brushes under my eye that I realize my tears have started again, merging with the stream of water. But I don’t look away. I let him see every bruised, damaged, and battered part of my soul. No matter how much I try, a part of me is irrevocably broken.

  “You broke me,” I gasp, the first thing that comes out of my mouth.

  An agonized groan escapes from the back of his throat as he takes a tentative step towards me, but I push him back.

  “You didn’t even bother to use protection. I didn’t want—”

  He reaches over to take my hand in his. “I’ve told you this before: you’re mine. Body and soul. There’s no way I’m going to have a barrier separating us, and if that brings consequences, then so be it.”

  My stomach churns again at his words. “I’m not having you as a baby daddy, Aaron. My husband is looking for me, and here I am with you. And now I’ve cheated on him. He must be—”

  He barks a laugh and then growls so loudly, it stops me in my tracks. “Eleanor, Matt isn't what he seems to be. We wanted to wait and tell you when you were ready to listen. But since you insist on thinking his shit smells like roses, I’m going to be upfront and honest with you.” He backs away from me and takes a deep breath. “We started getting suspicions about Matt when he came into a load of money a few years ago, and I had someone look into it for me.”

  I don’t want to stand here and listen to this bullshit. I yank my hand out of his and take a step past him, but he blocks my way out of the shower with his arm. I furiously swipe my soaking wet hair out of my eyes.

  “Don’t you start that shit with me. You know how guilty I feel after what we just did and now you’re trying to push me away from Matt. Fuck off.”

  He holds his hands up. “Listen. I have proof. Matt is part of a bigger agenda. He’s on the payroll for someone who’s ten times more dangerous.”

  Aaron reaches over me and turns the shower off. He steps out, and water pools everywhere.

  “Who is he working for, then?” Surely this is some bullshit for him to get me to feel better about being trapped here.

  There is a thump at the door and excited shouting, which I can’t quite make out. Aaron crosses over to it, speaking to someone outside in low tones, and then turns around to face me, his face devoid of any emotion.

  “Finish up and stay here in your room.” he orders before sweeping out of the door.

  I shake my head at the sudden change in his demeanor and finish washing myself while thinking about what Aaron said about Matt. Even though I’m positive he told me about this to make me doubt my husband, I’m ashamed to say it’s working.

  I need to sort my head out, and fast.

  Ella

  Present Day

  A loud banging at the door wakes me up with a jolt before the events of yesterday catch up to me. I have no idea what made Aaron leave with such a cold expression, but something inside me snapped. I decided to have a pity party for one and in order to do that, I needed alcohol. So I snuck out and went on a hunt to grab a shit load.

  It seemed like a great decision at the time—to drink my problems away—but now I’m cursing those choices.

  A huge fog clouds my brain, and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. But at least with these side effects, I know it’s self inflicted which makes it slightly easier to bear. I reach for the water at the side of my bed and take a drink. I gulp the majority of it down before spitting it out and wincing. Fuck, that’s vodka, not water. A note underneath the glass catches my attention, and I pick it up with a frown. Sighing, I look at the words on there, snorting derisively.

  Try drinking this to make the hangover less deadly. I don’t know if that’s bullshit, but try it, future Ella. You’re welcome. Love, Past Ella.

 

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