Page 62 of Ruin

“This is about her, isn’t it. What did she do this fucking time?” I scoff, thinking of Kyla-Rose and how she gets inside his mind, manipulating shit to suit her. Shaking my head at his silence, I say coldly, “You’re taking it out on me.”

“I’m not taking anything out on you, Kazimir, I’m just done with this. I told you why, that’s all there is to it.”

“Who is this woman? I want to know what the fuck I’m competing with,” I almost laugh, because this is fucking ridiculous.

“There is no competition,” he says slowly. “Not with her.”

Blood seems to bubble as it boils inside my veins, heat zapping through my limbs. I shake my head again, denial. There’s no way.

“It won’t last,” I tell him seriously. “You always come back to me,” I whisper it, it’s true, it was only a handful of weeks ago he turned up in my apartment after years of absence.

“Not this time.” I stare at him, loose limbed, blank face and I hate myself.

“What makes her so fucking special? Huh? What’s sh-”

“I’m her number one,” he shrugs honestly.

“It’s that simple?” I scoff, shaking my head again, but I want to punch myself, this is my fault.

“It’s that simple,” his voice cracks but I know it’s from overuse, it’s not from feeling.

My boy never did know how to do that. Emotions, even before my father and his men,me,broke him apart inside a cage. Cracked open his skull, infected the delicate parts of his brain, tore others out. Stitched it all back up without the missing pieces.

I swallow dryly, a lump in my throat. My tongue sweeps over my lips, wetting them, running over my front teeth, vodka on my tastebuds.

“So we’re done then, just like that?”

“Kazimir, we’ve never been anything else.”

The urge to sob almost chokes me, my knees wobble and before I can stop myself, I’m throwing my body into him, spinning him in my hold and tackling him face down into the terracotta tiles. Pinning him in place with my weight, he blinks up at me, a little dazed, like he doesn’t understand how we just got down here. A crease forming between his pale brows, he stares up at me from the corner of his eye, cheek flush with the hard floor.

Lifting my hips, keeping one hand on the back of his skull, crushing his head into the floor. I snap open my belt, tear down my slacks.

He doesn’t struggle beneath me, doesn’t try to shove me off. Just stares at me from the corner of his eye as I reach around his front, deftly pop open his button, pull down the zipper, push my hand inside the denim. I groan in his ear, my hand wrapping around his semi-hard cock, forehead pressing to his temple. I stroke him, slow and hard, the awkward angle only making me more desperate to get him hard.

For me. Not for her. Whoever the fuck she is.

My own dick solid and throbbing, threatening to tear through the cotton of my boxers. His breath is short and sharp, his cock softens further in my hand, and I just… stop. Collapsing on top of him, my chest to his back, I pull my hand from his jeans, plant it beside his head, my other releasing the pressure on his skull.

And I do nothing.

Breathing him in. My favourite scent in the world, and it’s the last time I’m going to get to smell it. I’ve lost him. But I don’t think I ever really had him. My throat closes as I try to hold back what I feel. Greif sort of sweeps through me, seizing my lungs, and I wonder if this is what it feels like to die.

Slowly, I lift up from Charlie’s back, drop down onto my arse, knees bent, feet planted on the floor. I stare at my hands hanging between my legs, elbows on my knees. He moves to stand, and his shadow, even in the dense darkness seems to smother me. I nod my head, bobbing it over and over before a shake of it ends the action. A tremor runs up my spine as I use the chair to lift myself from the floor.

I sweep my hands down my front, re-buckle my belt, button my slacks. Grabbing my jacket from the chair I fold it over my forearm, grind my teeth.

Then, without looking at him, I make my way out of the room. Down the many halls of the cold, marble mansion, crossing the foyer, my footsteps echoing around the vast, empty space, I let myself out of the front door. Taking the stone steps one by one until I’m seated in my car.

I turn the key, the gates opening automatically as I steer the car down the winding driveway. When the tyres hit the smooth tarmac road, I don’t dare glance back, and I’m numb until I make it home.

That’s when I let myself fall apart.

Chapter27

Charlie

Ava attempts to scream. I think that’s what it is as I come at her with large bolt cutters. I suppose, perhaps, that’s a normal reaction. But I don’t have time for this.

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