Page 61 of Sparks of Insanity
“I can do it.”
“Em…”
“Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking say you didn’t want that. Or that you’re sorry. Or some bullshit like that. If you’d just stop fighting the way you feel, you wouldn’t have to do it like this. You could just have me whenever you want. It doesn’t have to be cruel, and violent, Ethan. That’s a choiceyoumade, because you were pissed off.”
I glanced down at my tattooed stomach, which looked angry and red, but was coming along really beautifully. If I’d chosen it, I’d be pleased as hell.
“You don’t do this again, Em. Whatever the fuck you used on me, don’t you fucking dare do it again.”
I left the room, heading back to my bedroom and slamming the door, before I fell back against it and slid to the floor. What the fuck is happening to me?
34
Ember
I’d wanted to pushhim, hadn’t I? And now I was sore in so many places, and I felt raw inside. Not down there, but emotionally. I was emotionally raw. He’d forced me, and he’d been rough, brutal, cruel. Would there ever be a time when he’d do it without malice in his heart, or was this the only way? Would I have to drive him to it, messing with him until he cracked, and did it out of anger every time? Could he not just see that we were meant for each other?
I finally managed to get up and stagger to the hallway, finding his bedroom door closed. He was in there though, because I could hear him. There was crashing and yelling, and something hit the door hard enough to make me jump, and then it suddenly fell silent in there. No wait, not silent.
I pushed the door open, wincing at the wreckage of the room, furniture upended, bedding everywhere, and in the midst of the destruction was Ethan. He was sitting back against the foot ofthe trashed bed, his head down, and huge wrenching sobs tore out of him as he pulled at his hair.
“Ethan?”
He didn’t hear me at first, so I stepped into the room, and on the third try, he heard me, his head shooting up just enough for him to fix me with a damn near feral glare.
“You,” he hissed, watching me tentatively approach him. When I was only a few feet away, he suddenly shot up from the floor, grabbing me and wrestling me back down with him, his body wrapped around mine.
I panicked at first, thinking he was attacking me again, but instead, he held me, rocking me, kissing my head, and sobbing the word 'sorry' over and over. I think I’d broken him completely, and I was devastated at the thought. I didn’t want him broken, I just wanted him desperate for me. I wanted him released from the boundaries he thought he had to live by. I wanted him at peace with the decision that having me was the right thing to do.
All I could do was try wrapping my arms around him, holding him just as tightly as he held me, stroking his arm over and over while he slowly calmed down.
“I always thought I’d be a good man,” he finally whispered against my hair. “I was raised by good people.”
I waited for more words, but he fell silent again for so long that I wondered if he’d fallen asleep, except that his grip on me hadn’t loosened at all.
“Ethan?”
“Where did they go wrong though? This had to be in me all along, right?”
“Ethan? What are you talking about?”
He kissed my head again, and released me, sitting up and watching me follow suit.
“I hurt you. Your throat… your…Jesus… those are my teeth-marks.” He stared pulling at his hair again. “I’m a fucking monster. I’m sorry, Em. I’m so fucking sorry.” He stood up and reached down to help me up, then he walked me to the door, with a firm hand at my back.
“Get out.” What?
I turned to try and talk to him and he slammed the door in my face, and before I could open it again, I heard something heavy being dragged, bumping against the door.
“Ethan?”
“I’m staying in here where I can’t hurt you again. Call your dads. Have them take you home, and… yeah, either leave me here, or kill me. I don’t care.”
What the hell?
“Ethan, no. Let me back in there. Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not risking you getting hurt even worse. Stay away from me.”
