heliophilia
(n.) the desire to stay in the sun
MILA
My eyes opened to a dark room, and confusion ran rampant until I saw the black sheet covering me and remembered I was in Ronan’s room. In his bed. With his body heat at my back. The clock on the nightstand said two-thirty a.m., which meant I was only asleep for thirty minutes before waking with a full bladder.
The previous hours turned in my head. I’d anticipated sex and then for Ronan to slap my ass on my way out the door. I didn’t expect for him to say I was perfect and then kiss me until I fell asleep. I hadn’t known he had that kind of softness in him. It was more than I thought I’d ever get. So why did I feel so . . . empty?
God, I really was an emotional fuck.
Quietly, I pulled the sheets back and slid off the bed. When my feet touched the floor, I turned to glance at him. My heart grew heavy at the sight.
He slept on his back, an arm above his head. He looked so human, so vulnerable, so handsome, it stole my breath to even look at him.
Madame Richie’s laugh resounded in my mind and raised the hair on my arms. No wonder she’d burst out laughing. The man meant for me was a mobster who kidnapped me and would soon murder my papa. My fortune must have been the most interesting one she ever foresaw.
I found my clothes on the floor and dragged them into the bathroom. I would have gone straight to my room, but come was leaking down my thighs. A condom had been my last thought when Ronan’s hands were all over me, though now the lack of one filled me with uncertainty. I knew he wasn’t celibate. I also knew he used condoms; they were stashed in his nightstand drawer. My stomach turned at the idea of him with other women in the same bed he just slept with me in—Nadia especially. Was he as soft with her as he was with me? The thought made me sick, so I pushed it away.
After I cleaned myself up, peed, and dressed, I exited the bathroom. Ronan was still sleeping, looking so peaceful I didn’t want to wake him—not that I had a reason to. We’d only had sex; it meant nothing to him. He couldn’t have made it clearer. I was the stupid one for thinking I could handle it and not feel anything for him afterward.
As I moved to the door, my gaze caught on something that glinted silver in the moonlight. Everything inside of me went quiet. Even my heart.
The pistol lay on the floor a few feet away.
My eyes traveled back to Ronan. As a heavy feeling disrupted the silence within me, I suddenly knew I would never turn him in for what he did to me. He may not be a good man, but the world wasn’t black-and-white. He was all the gray in between.
And I was falling for him hard—so hard, I worried when he was finished, there wouldn’t be anything left of me.
I glanced back at the gun, my gaze as torn in direction as the sudden conflict ripping me in half. A part of me wanted to ignore the chance of freedom; the other wondered if this was my only chance to save my papa . . . and, selfishly, myself. I knew I couldn’t take another’s life in the process. I knew without a doubt I could never take Ronan’s.
But most games were won by bluffs.
The moonlight felt like frost on my skin as my feet moved of their own volition. My hands shook when I picked up the murderous piece of metal. It was heavy—so heavy, I immediately wanted to drop it, but when my mind played a scene of me standing in front of my papa’s coffin alone, my grip tightened.
“Kotyonok.”
The single word slid through me, restarting my body with a jolt of axles and wheels that echoed in my ears. My eyes shot to Ronan’s. He sat on the edge of the bed in his briefs, his arms resting on his thighs. A narrowed gaze dropped to the gun in my hands before sliding back up to mine.
“Bring it here.”
A cold sweat flooded me, washing through me with shaky dampness. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The battle within consumed every ounce of me, stealing the air from my lungs and suffocating me.
His gaze hardened. “I said, bring it here.”
This was easier when he was D’yavol and not the man who wiped away my tears. Just the thought burned the backs of my eyes because I knew, after this, he never would again. But I needed to do this now, before I fell so deep I couldn’t find a way out.
“I can’t.” The words leaked of despair.
He stood and stepped toward me, determination in his eyes. I raised the barrel to his chest. The gun was so heavy, my arms shook, the trigger burning my finger.
“Don’t. Please don’t.” My blood rushed so loudly in my ears it almost drowned out my voice.
Jaw tight, he paused.
“I can’t be the reason my papa dies. I can’t . . .” Tears ran down my cheeks. “Just let me go,” I pleaded. “That’s all I want.”
He made a dark, disbelieving sound. “You’re a better liar than I thought.”
“What?” My chest constricted.
“Was this your plan?” he growled. “Were you thinking about saving your goddamn father’s life while fucking me?”
I blanched. “No . . . I didn’t plan this, but even if I did, you have no right to turn this around on me.” I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t find any anger. I didn’t have any more emotion to give. “You lied to me. You used me from the beginning.”
“And I’d do it all again.” The statement was full of venom. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so furious. It shook the beat of my heart and forced me back a step.
“Please. Just let me go.” It came out as a sob. “That’s all I want.”
“Nyet.”
He wasn’t calling my bluff, though he also wasn’t going to give in. It hurt me more than anything that he thought I could really shoot him. The idea almost made me drop the gun, but I couldn’t. I didn’t mean anything to him. I was a chess piece. And I couldn’t survive being played anymore.
“Please, Ronan—”
“Don’t say my fucking name.”
I flinched. “I won’t,” I promised. “You won’t even have to see me again. Just let me go.”
There was nothing but my tears and silence for a second—this massive void of silence that would devastate anything alive.
And then he called my bluff.
He moved toward me, closing the distance so quickly I jumped back a step, and that was when my clammy finger slipped on the trigger.
Click.
Both of our eyes fell to the pistol in my hands right before I dropped it. The click replayed in my mind on a reel, each time sending a colder wave through me than the last. My thoughts were so jumbled, my body so numb, I couldn’t feel anything but the words in my head.
I just pulled the trigger on him.
The gun wasn’t fully loaded.
I didn’t mean to do it.
Ronan laughed humorlessly. “Guess I got really narcissistic tonight.”
He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of his room and down the hall. In a stunned haze, I didn’t say a word—even as he yanked me down the stairs and out the front door. The icy chill in the night air wrapped around my bare skin and fought the emptiness inside. But I didn’t feel anything, not even the snow beneath my feet while he dragged me through the yard.
Ronan opened the outbuilding door and pushed me in. I only heard his movements as he padlocked the gate to Khaos’s kennel to keep me out of it and the last thing he said before he slammed the door shut behind him.
“Sleep tight, kotyonok.”
