Page 66 of A Light in the Darkness
Remy
I don’t understand. I’m giving her what she wants… what she needs. And I genuinely meant it.
The truth is, there’s a whole mess of shit we have to deal with, but I can’t get through to her. It’s like she isn’t really here, in front of me… like she’s a ghost. It’s fucking with my head.
“Claire.” I want to shake her until she looks at me. I wonder vaguely if her being choked so brutally to bust blood vessels could have also caused ear drum rupture, because she doesn’t seem to hear me when I follow her out into the hotel room.
“Please.” I manage, not sure I can get another word through without it fracturing.
But she continues to ignore me, staring out the window into the courtyard below us. “This hurts.” I tell her, not sure why I’ve decided to be so vulnerable. Maybe because it doesn’t matter if I let myself show it, since she’s holding my heart no matter whether I admit it or not. “Please, talk to me.”
She doesn’t move as I step behind her, framing her against the smooth glass of the window. I rest my head on the top of hers, taking comfort that she won’t give me. I don’t know what happened to her in that basement, and I only want to know as far as she wants me to. But this version of her— cold, unfeeling, numb? It scares the hell out of me.
The night I demanded she tell me about Giante, I’d seen this version of her for just a fraction of a second. And I saw this version of her for a moment, on the boat, when she handed the gun back to me, calling me on my bluff. This version of her stood in front ofme and told me she was leaving me. I know this is who she is when she needs to protect herself, but I don’t want her to be like this with me. I am the person who will go to any length to protect her. Maybe I’ve failed at that more times than I care to admit, but I’m done failing her. I’m done letting fear control my life, done giving everybody else my attention when all I want is to spend it on her.
“If you won’t talk to me, maybe you will listen?”
She doesn’t move, doesn’t indicate she heard me, but I have no other option, so I take it as a yes and begin to talk.
“I lied to you. I lied to you, and I am so sorry I couldn’t be honest. I was scared to tell you the truth, scared to open up old wounds, but I made you cut yourself open right in front of me. I’m a piece of shit, but when we met, I didn’t know you would get under my skin. I didn’t know I would fall in love with you!”
In the glass panel, I see her eyes watching me, assessing. It gives me the courage to delve deeper, to tear myself apart further. “When my father pulled me into this world, he told me that we breed our soldiers. Davos knocked me out, drugged me, and sent one of his woman in to fuck me… one that he knew was ovulating.”
My throat threatens to close on me, or maybe to fill with bile, but I ignore the protesting, taking a small breath before I continue. “Her name was Genevieve, and he knew her well. When I got to Costa Rica, she was waiting for me. My wife.”
My jaw feels like it may snap in half and ricochet right through my skull. “I hated her, and she hated me. I was a fucking monster to her, because she represented my fucking prison. It wasn’t her fault—they forced her to do it all. She wasn’t free to choose… and when I found out that their sick fucking plan had worked and she was pregnant, I just hated her all the more. Not only did I have a wife I never wanted, but I was going to be saddled with a child from her too?” I scoff, wishing (not for the first time) that I could go back and undo the past. “I didn’t know she felt exactly the same way. She hated me as much as I hated her… and she hated our child… my son.”
My eyes are burning with the tears I’m trying to fight, and I can feel them slipping down the back of my throat as I work to swallow my weakness. “I found her one day, when she was a few months along… she’d…” I bite my lip, trying to man the fuck up. “She tried to cut him out of her.”
Saying the words makes me feel faint. It’s the first I’ve ever said them aloud, and I can’t try to block the memory of her in a pool of blood while I’m saying the words. Other than Genevieve herself and Rook, nobody knows what happened… nobody else has had to live with that horrible image in their head. And now I’m imparting it upon the woman I love, because she deserves the truth.
“He didn’t make it. Too tiny, too…” I wipe angrily beneath my eyes, chasing away the weakness slipping out from inside me. “I buried my son, and I thought about killing her. I really fucking wanted to.”
I haven’t tried to find her reflection, to see if she’s watching me with horror or pity. She’s still, her breaths coming in a steady rise and fall against me. “I almost did, but I stopped myself. I sent her away instead, told my father I’d killed her. They were going to send me another, just like she was nothing, a thing that could be so easily replaced. That’s when I bought my first girl… I fed the illusion, bid on her. And when it was safe to do so, when they were beginning to ask why she wasn’t pregnant yet, I set her free.”
I squeeze my temples, trying to soothe the raging pulse there. “I faked her death, too, and I bought myself some time. But I couldn’t get away with it forever. When I did it the third time, my father decided to pay me a visit, to keep an eye on me. I played my cards right, tiptoed around the subject… and one night, I heard him on the phone, making the deal with the devil. He sold my sister… said that Davos could take her in exchange for forgiving his debts, and promised he wouldn’t fight him on the matter. I killed him that night.”
If she’s surprised to learn that I am responsible for my own father’s murder, Claire doesn’t show it, so I keep going. “That made her a target, so I went to bring her to Costa Rica so that I could keep an eye on her… that’s when I met you. That night in my room, I thought you were one of Davos’ presents. I thought he’d sent you to get close to me, or her. By the time I realized you weren’t his pawn, it was too late. I’d driven you away the first time, and I fucking hated myself for it. When I got the video of you for the auction—” My voice breaks again, and I hit my fist against the glass, trying to compose myself. “I was willing to do anything to get you back, to fix it. And I did get you back… but I didn’t know that you would want me—fuckingme—” I laugh, “for anything real. I didn’t know that you would entertain a future with me… kids, marriage. For years, I convinced myself I couldn’t have it. Iwouldn’thave it, if only to spite my father and Davos. I pushed you away because I was scared that Iwantedthose things with you. It was cowardly, pathetic. I wanted you to go as much as I wanted you to stay, but once you did, I fell apart.”
My hand comes to rest on her shoulder—the non-injured one—and I appreciate that she doesn’t push it off her. “I sent Dimitri after you the minute he was home that day, and I hired Moose right after that. Rhea stayed with me because we had business to finish, and I put on a show in front of her, but once she was gone… once I was alone…” I shake my head. “I knew I fucked up the minute you stepped onto that plane, but I also knew that I had to let you go, because I wasn’t willing to give you what you wanted… what you deserved.”
Our eyes meet in the reflection, and my chest constricts at the neutral expression on her face. “I’ve spent the last few months trying to tip the scales, to do some good. I’ve been to places you can’t imagine, seen things…” I swallow the rest of that sentence and press my mouth to the space just below her ear. “I’m ready now, to give you what you want. I love you.”
Hope surges inside me as she turns to face me, sliding her arms around my neck so that she can pull me closer to her. Her voice is choked when she speaks, the sound faint and quiet. I draw closer to hear whatever she’s trying to say, but her words obliterate me.
“I… can never… love you.”
Chapter thirty-nine
Claire
Rhea bursts through the door so suddenly, I think it may fly off the hinges. She stills completely when she sees me sitting at the little table, my hair pulled back in a clip that doesn’t do much to hide the bruises on my neck.
“Oh my God.” She cries, rushing at me full force. I bristle just before she can throw herself at me, and it gives her enough pause to stop herself before she collides with me. “Oh, Claire.” I watch her press her shaking hand to her mouth, pull it away like she means to speak, and then press it to her mouth again.
“Rhea.” I swallow, lubricating my throat again to make whatever else I have to say easier. I’ve gained my voice back a little—the swelling has gone down enough to make my words come out in the proper amount of syllables, though it is still mostly a whisper… a hoarse whisper.
“What happened to you? I woke up and you were gone. You just—nobody told me anything. I don’t understand. Dimitri said it was the buyer from the auction, but he didn’t tell me how he found you or what—” her words come to a stop as she takes me in with more attention.
