Page 3 of Burned By Sin
“Get on with it then. What do you want?” With the accuracy of a blade, Rhys’ pale eyes flick to me, his hands falling limply between his legs. Black circles shadow his eyes, creases framing his mouth from the frown that’s secured there. But most of all, he looks haunted. Strained even. I’m still not falling for it. “I assume you’re here to exact whatever twisted revenge you’ve been cooking up in your recent absence.”
“I’m not here to torment you,” he mumbles with a shake of his head and returns his gaze to the floor. It’s a sorry sight. I force my spine to stiffen, pushing all of my effort into maintaining the barrier I’ve been building.
“No, you let your disciples do it instead,” I snarl. Rhys’ head tilts at this, tension pulling between his brows.
“Who?” he rasps, and if I wasn’t mistaken, a trace of his old self filtered back to life. It’s gone in my next blink. Pushing myself to sit on my desk, I sigh dramatically.
“It’s too late to act like you’re capable of caring, Rhys. Get out of my room.” Silence follows, the seconds dragging by as if my pulse is ticking off each one. His richly expensive scent reaches me from where he sits, imbedding itself into my furnishings and confusing my senses. The only movement in the room is my foot shaking impatiently. I try to wait him out, figuring he’ll crack first, but his limbs are loose and he doesn’t seem to be in any rush. Slapping my thighs in exasperation, I jump down to the floor and stand before him with my arms crossed.
“What the hell do you want?!” I call out, attracting the attention of a fellow student making her way towards the bathroom. She quicklyscurries along at my scowl, but back in the direction she came. It won’t be long before the whispers are passed room to room and we have an audience. For that reason only, I slam the door closed.
“I want...” Rhys mutters, his voice is so quiet that I’m forced to toss my phone onto the bed beside him. He goes unnervingly quiet again, fixated on a spot on the floor until I kick his shoe with my boot. “I want you to punish me.”
I can’t contain the responding laughter that leaves me. It’s somewhere between deranged cackle and what-the-fuck-is-my-life hysteria. Of all the grand entrances I expected Rhys to make back into my life, of all the bombs I was waiting for him to drop, he has successfully surprised me once more. I should applaud his ability to fuck with my mind in six words.
Dropping onto Addy’s bed, my head tips back to the ceiling, searching for some divine intervention that doesn’t arrive. I had rehearsed for the anger or misery that would come with seeing him again. I wasn’t prepared for amusement. He doesn’t flinch at my reaction, only tilts his head a fraction and finally lifts his eyes to meet mine. Devoid of life, much like the first time I ever met him but worse. There’s no air of superiority now, only a perfected wounded puppy expression that looks misplaced.
“Thanks for the offer, but no.”
Rhys’ face twists with confusion but his eyes speak outrage.There it is.The arrogant asshole who thought he could break into my room and have me bending to his every whim. I can’t quite wrap my head around what he wanted. For me to shove my boot into his balls and choke him to the point of passing out? In Rhys’ terms, pain is pleasure and he doesn’t deserve either.
“Why not?”
“Hmmm, let me think,” I tap a finger on my chin. “Because whatever this is,” I wave my hand over the whole of him, “you’re not finding an easy way out of it. And because my hatred is too rewarding for you.”
Rhys stares at me so intensely, I have to force myself not to lookaway. My skin prickles beneath his scrutiny, a shudder fighting its way to roll through my spine. Hold your ground, Harper. This man has ignored you for weeks, not even bothering to check if you’re safe. At the very least, I thought what I had with Rhys would have sparked some small consideration. I’d already lost Clay, and Rhys couldn’t even give me that.
“Do you want me to beg for it? Grovel at your feet, would that make you happy?” Rhys grits out. His anger is stirring, the entitled side of him that can’t be denied rising to the surface. Good, I’ve been waiting for this fight.
“Give me a break. You don’t care about my happiness. You just want me to alleviate whatever bullshit you can’t handle feeling. But I’m not going to save you this time. Work it out for yourself.” I push to my feet and open the door, gesturing it’s his time to leave. Rhys may not have been the one to drive Clay from campus, but he gave him the means to do so. In my mind, Rhys is as equally guilty for taking him from me. For leaving me utterly exposed and alone.
“I’m not leaving,” Rhys states, yanking his hoodie over his head and proceeds to get beneath my covers, curled up like a wounded dog with no fight or life left in him.
“Well, you aren’t staying. I’m going to the bathroom, you need to be gone when I get back.” Grabbing my wash bag, I walk the length of the hallway and close the door to give myself a moment to process what the fuck is happening. Pressing my forehead against the wood, I wonder if he will go but even without the steady breathing washing over my phone’s mic, I know his stubborn streak will win out. Rhys has no intention of going anywhere.
I should be screaming or punching his miserable face for the recent taunts I’ve had to endure. For disappearing while I had to be on high alert for whoever targeted us. For showing up and thinking he can control the narrative again. So why am I hiding in the bathroom, trying to settle the thrashing of my stupid, fragile heart?
Pushing away from the door, I wash my face, patting cool water onmy neck. My hair is faded now, brunette roots showing amongst the dusty pink. My eyes appear just as drab, lifeless green like a woodland desecrated by winter. Rhys wants punishment. The man who gets off on pain, who will enjoy my efforts far too much. I need to make him suffer in other ways, to pay for the part of me that’s still breaking.
Pushing off the basin, I march back to my room, disregarding the multiple bodies who have gathered in the hallways, trying to get a peek through the crack in my door. Word spreads quickly around here. I’m quick to enter and shut out those who drift closer, curious to see if the King of Campus really is among us. There’s nothing king-like about the broken man in my bed.
“Fine. Here’s your punishment,” I grind out. Rhys sits up as I jab a finger in his bare chest. “You’re going to attend every class on your timetable. In the ones we share, you’ll be my proactive and contributing lab partner. You’ll write your own notes, complete your own assignments, join me for study sessions in the library like every other student. No more bullying freshman, no more self-entitlement. And…” I swallow, collecting myself, “and you’ll find a way to have Clay’s scholarship reinstated.”
“What is any of that going to prove?” Rhys’s face twists with pure disgust, which was my intention. Punishments aren’t meant to be pleasurable. I roll my eyes, slapping my hands on my jeans.
“That you can be a decent human being?! That you’re not going to run away because of something an internet troll said. I really thought you had thicker skin than that.”
The air shifts before I’ve finished. Fury radiates from him in a wave so sharp it feels like a cut, all coiled restraint snapping loose. He moves suddenly, violently dragging me into his orbit. My breath catches as I’m hauled forward, forced onto his lap, straddling him before I can shove back. The blanket between us does nothing to dull the heat of his grip, his hands clamping my face so hard I can feel the tremor in his fingers.
His pale eyes are wild, glassed with a depth of agony that strikes me harderthan his strength does. The sheer intensity pouring off him roots me to the spot, my pulse hammering as his chest rises like he’s holding back the roar of something feral.
“I ran away because of what you said. Those words came from you.” The truth tears out of him like they’ve been festering, raw and violent. My dorm light hums above us, the only sound against the ragged drag of his breath. His grip trembles against my jaw, not loosening, not steady either.
“That day at the coffee shop. You cut me open, pressed hope into my veins like a toxin. I started to believe it myself, that I could be more. Be better for you. Until I heard what you said. I’m a leech, draining the life from everyone around me because I have none of my own. Survives on the weight of a name I didn’t earn. That’s what you said.”
My stomach twists. The wrath I was clinging onto slips away, a harsh reality coming to light. As if I’ve been peering through blurred glasses which have just been cleared. I’ve spent so long grieving what I almost had with both Clay and Rhys, what I lost so suddenly, I didn’t consider that I hurt him first. I was blinded by what Clay had shown me, enraged that he thought I could have had a part in it, and I hurt Rhys.
The heater kicks on at the far wall, rattling through the following silence, but it doesn’t warm the ice spreading through me. His chest heaves beneath mine, every inhale clipped as if it’s requiring a valiant effort. I catch the faint twitch in his jaw, the way his knee bounces once, betraying the restraint he’s holding onto with white-knuckled desperation.
