Page 158 of Monsters Wear Crowns
I pushed the covers back and forced myself out of bed. The cool air prickled over my skin, and I wrapped my silk robe tighter around me as I crossed the room. My reflection in the mirror stopped me. There were shadows under my eyes. My mouth was still red and a little swollen. I looked…undone. And not just from lack of sleep.
I tore my eyes away and headed for the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would wash him off me. Or at least the lingering ache he left behind.
It didn’t.
A sharp and unexpected knock came at my door as I was fixing my coffee. My pulse jumped. I set the mug that I nearly tipped over down and crossed the room, reaching for the knife I kept tucked in a drawer by the door, but when I opened it, the hallway was empty.
Except for the box.
It was small, sleek, and black. I stared at it for a long moment, every instinct telling me I shouldn’t touch it. But my hand was already reaching, my heart already pounding. I brought it inside and set it on the counter, slowly lifting the lid. The bracelet inside was delicate and dazzling–a string of diamonds and black stones woven into an intricate, stunning design. It was expensive, lavish, and more beautiful than any piece of jewelry I’d ever owned. And as I turned it, I noted a tiny diamond crown laid into it.
But it was the card that stole my breath.
I’d never let you fall.
I pressed a hand to my chest, where my heart was suddenly pounding too hard. It wasn’t fair. The way he knew exactly how to reach inside me and twist. His words still had the power to make my knees go weak, even after everything he’d done.
I slipped the bracelet back into the box and snapped the lid shut. If I kept it, I wouldn’t take it off. And that was the last thing I needed. But I didn’t throw it away either. I just…stood there. Staring at the box. Knowing I was already losing this fight. And maybe I never really stood a chance. How could a girl escape the Dark Monster of New York City, anyway?
I stared at the box for too long. My fingers brushed over the surface, and I contemplated what it meant. I set it down and stepped back as if putting a few inches between us would clear my head. Itdidn’t.
The memory of last night was still seared into my skin–the way his hands had gripped my waist, his breath hot against my throat, the roughness and tenderness battling in every kiss. The way he’d whispered my name like a goddamn prayer and a curse. My body still ached in places I didn’t want to think about. Every part of his body molded into mine perfectly…as if we were fucking made for each other.
And my heart…my heart was therealproblem. No matter how many times I told myself I shouldn’t, I did still love him. I loved him so much that it felt like a sickness.
But love didn’t erase what he’d done.
It didn’t erase the terror in my throat when his hands had pinned me down–when the word we’d both agreed would mean stop had meant nothing. It didn’t erase the bruises, fading now, but still there. Still a reminder. And it didn’t erase the doubt that had wormed its way inside me, whispering that maybe I really was becoming my mother–a Sinclair woman destroyed by a Vaughan man. He’d done it once, perhaps he’d do it again?
I squeezed my eyes shut and dragged in a breath, fighting the ache rising in my chest. There was a reason I hadn’t wanted to see him last night. A reason I’d been trying so hard to put space between us. But when he’d shown up on that rooftop…when he’d said he loved me…
I hadn’t been strong enough.
I never was when it came to him.
Another sudden knock at my door made me jump. My heart leapt into my throat, and for one awful, hopeful second, I thought maybe–
No. I pushed the thought down. I needed to push it down. But when I opened the door, my disappointment must have been obvious.
Laura raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Wow. You lookthrilledto see me.”
I forced a smile. “Sorry. Long night.”
Her eyes narrowed, scanning me like she could see right through my paper-thin attempt at casual. And knowing Laura, she probably could. “Uh-huh.” She stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, heels clicking against the floor as she headed straight for my kitchen. “I figured you might need coffee. Or alcohol. Or both.” She pulled a bottle of cold brew from the fridge and shot me a look. “So. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I sighed, closing the door behind me. “It’s…complicated.”
“Please.” She popped the lid on the coffee and took a swig straight from the bottle. “It’salwayscomplicated with you.”
My face scrunched in disgust. “How could you drink coffee without creamer?”
She paused, glaring at me. “How could you fuck your stalker?”
Touché.
I hesitated. I wanted to tell her. But saying it out loud would make it real. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that. Deciding whether or not I wanted the man in my life was difficult enough, especially after last night with my dumbass.
But Laura just kept looking at me, more perceptive than anyone had a right to be. And maybe I needed someone to tell me Iwasn’tcrazy.
