Page 98 of Ruthless Chaos
At least, I hope it’s harsh—I don’t feel as angry at Alexander as I usually do. He saved me from a horrible fate.
“No, you’re not.” He gestures to the brown chesterfield loveseat. “Sit down. We need to talk about something.”
I hesitate, my heart jumping to my throat.
Alexander looks on edge as we move to the sofa. It’s strange, and I wonder if there’s more of last night that I don’t remember. Oh gosh, did I tell him something I shouldn’t?
The loveseat is barely big enough for the two of us. His knees brush mine, sending prickles up my thighs. His warmth kisses my skin, and I’m enveloped by his scent—it’s tainted by the metallic fragrance of blood.
“What is it?” I ask, the words barely a whisper.
My heart is thundering by this.
He moves a hand to grip my cheek. Alexander heaves a sigh, and I notice that his hands are a bit sweaty.
Is he nervous?
His eyes are intense as he searches my face. “Promise me you’ll stop doing that to yourself.”
I draw my eyebrows together, confused. “What?”
“I saw the scars on your thighs.”
My world stops spinning. I recoil from his touch, but he’s got a hand on my leg, keeping me in place. Heat snakes up my neck, blooming in my cheeks.
I need to run away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice shakes.
He doesn’t buy it. “I know what I saw, Allie.”
I try to tamp down the shuddering taking me over. I curl my hands around my middle, sliding down the sofa. My thoughts are muddy.
How do I even start to explain this to him?
A man like Alexander would never understand the utter helplessness that drives me to hurt myself. To explain would mean revealing the deepest, darkest parts of me—the parts that thrive in pain, that crave control.
That’s too much vulnerability.
I look at him and wish I hadn’t. His eyes are glassy. The usual hardness in his expression is gone. Instead, his eyebrows are drawn together, his lips twisting into a sad smile.
I’m sick to my stomach that he pities me.
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
There isn’t enough air in the room to fill my lungs.
I need to get away from him.
“You don’t have a choice,” he says, his voice low. Despite the firm grip he has on me, there’s no implied threat behind his words. “I won’t let you run away from me, Allie. We have to talk about this.”
Desperation claws its way up my throat. My skin itches.
“I don’thave todo anything!” I scream, tears burning my eyes.
Alexander doesn’t flinch.
I writhe against his hold, but he lurches forward and wraps his arms around me. He pulls me against him even as I try to wrestle away. I struggle, I claw, I even sink my teeth into his forearm till my mouth tastes of copper.
