Page 164 of Reckoning

Hell, he fucked me while I was asleep, why now is he acting all respectful?

I want to call him out on it but I’m so exhausted that I can’t bear the potential fight.

So I let it go. Let it slide. Maybe he needs to process what happened too. Maybe it’s fucked his head to have made so many promises about protecting me and then, when it came down to it, they pretty much waltzed right into his house and stole me away.

I crawl over to the bed.

He doesn’t say anything as he watches me. I feel so tired, so damn exhausted but in an entirely different way to how I am after Koen has finished with me.

Koen lays down beside me but he’s still keeping that distance.

I shake my head, rolling over, leaning into his body, and then groan as that bruise on my face screams out in protest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks softly.

I shake my head because it still feels like I’m trying to process everything that went down.

“They raped me.” I say anyway.

I hear him take a quick inhale.

“They were going to cut me up.” I add.

He frowns before wrapping his arms tighter around me like some protective cage.

For a moment I ponder whether I should tell him everything. If Martin and Blue Eyes are dead what does it matter if there’s an actual diamond inside me?

But they had resources. I remember Blue Eyes taunting Otto about it. Thattheywere letting Otto keep me. What if there are more out there? What if Blue Eyes told them what he suspected? Will they also hunt me down, carve me up just to see if I am hiding this damned diamond?

I tense, palming my face with my hands.

Koen has never let me down. He’s never once fucked me over or made me question myself. Sure, he might push my boundaries, might take more from my body than I feel always able to give, but he loves me in his own way.

I gasp at that thought. Does he love me?

“What is it, Little Devil?” He asks gently, as though he’s just been laid here watching my body language shift with every wave of new emotion.

“Do you, do you,” Christ, just spit it out. “Do you love me?” I ask.

My face is so damned red, I know now is not the time for such a conversation but let’s face it, timing has never been one of my virtues.

He snarls, grabbing my hands, yanking them from where they’re desperately trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Is that a joke?” He asks. “Have I not made that abundantly clear? From the start I have done everything I could to have you, to keep you, to ensure you belong to me.”

“But that isn’t love.” I snap back. “That’s possession.”

He chuckles, cupping my cheek with his massive palm. “What do you think love like ours looks like? You think it’s roses and chocolates? Us holding hands while we skip merrily down the harbour? No, shit like that is not our kind of love, Sofia. Our souls are too dark, too twisted for such nonsense. Our love is a burning, raging monster, our love is controlling, it’s a furious rampage.”

“Ours?”

He lowers his mouth, claiming my lips before I can even finish that unspoken word.

“Ours.” He states. “You love me just as much as I love you. That’s why you enjoy all the filthy depraved things I do to your body.”

He’s right. The arsehole is right. I just didn’t realise this was what I felt because it’s been there so long, mixed up in my trauma, twisting around with my confused emotions.

“I need to tell you something.” I blurt out.

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