Ruining Me: The Insidious Seven MC, Book Two, page 27
Heat flashes up my neck as she grins before retrieving her magazine from the floor. With a flamboyant flick of her wrist, she flips it open and finds her place again. As I turn to my smiling brother and open my mouth to speak, he cuts me off before I can utter a single word.
“Seriously, Sof, I’m finer than a frog hair,” he says as he opens his arms wide and does a ridiculous spin in front of me. I grit my teeth together as my eyes narrow before he places his big hands on my shoulders and shakes me slightly. “What happened to my cold-hearted sister? The one who would patch me up and then forget I existed until the next time I fucked up,” he laughs.
His question is like a punch to the gut. What happened to that girl? I can’t even pretend like that question hasn’t crossed my mind lately. Somewhere along the way, I've changed. I began letting these people in and found myself caring for them more than is probably safe.
Li shakes his head at my non-answer. “You did a good job of patching me up, and now I’m all better. But I won’t be if I have to stay cooped up one more second with my baby sis lodged firmly up my ass.” He grins at me with that same stupid boyish look he’s had since childhood. The same grin that always got him out of trouble when we were kids.
As if I have no control over it, I feel my lips start to tick up with a returning grin. I bite my lip to stop from smiling as I push his chest. He laughs as he teeters back a step.
“Fine,” I grumble before flicking my index finger up and pointing at him with a lighthearted scowl. “But if you wreck, go to a hospital. I don’t think I can handle fixing you like that again,” I mumble, letting a little of my truth shine through.
Saving him this last time almost wrecked me. If it hadn’t been for Declan’s brother helping me come out of the headspace I’d fallen into, who knows how I’d be right now. To him, it may seem like I’m worrying too much, but he doesn’t realize what it was like to be on the other side of all this. I was responsible for his life and death all at once, and having that much burden thrust at me so suddenly definitely left a mark in its wake.
His eyes, identical to my own, soften as he pulls me in for a hug. I wrap my arms around his middle as he presses his nose against the top of my head and inhales deeply. I squeeze him quickly and pull away. He grips my upper arms for a moment, smiling down at me.
“Prometo,” he whispers and drops his hands.
I give him a short nod as emotion swells in my chest. Quickly, I turn away from him and sit back in the chair next to Tate. I blink rapidly to clear the burning sensation forming behind my eyelids and keep my gaze locked on the ID badge attached to my scrub top. I flick it back and forth with my fingers while actively bottling up my unwelcome emotions.
Liam’s stare becomes almost unbearable before he finally turns and starts toward the door. I look up just as he opens it and faces us again. He grins at me before letting his gaze find Tate. His eyes soften toward her in a way I’ve only ever seen when he’s near her. The love between these two is palpable even when no words are spoken. I shift in my seat, feeling as though I need to leave the room when he finally speaks.
“You comin’, Mama?” His voice is gravelly as he speaks to his love.
I stop fidgeting with my badge and flick my gaze to her, seeing the moment her lips stretch into a wide smile as she stands. She tosses her magazine on the chair before practically flouncing toward my brother. He wraps his big arm around her as she slides up to his side. She tilts her face up toward his, and he hovers over her lips.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she murmurs, and I look away, giving them their privacy. Not only for them but for myself as well. Witnessing the way they look at each other, the way my brother loves this woman so deeply, causes the knot in the pit of my stomach to swell. As they leave the apartment, leaving the door ajar, I understand why that knot has grown larger with each passing day.
Since Declan decimated me that night, this feeling in my gut has only intensified. Remembering how he looked at me after it was all over only causes it to grow larger. Liam has that same look in his eyes when he gazes at Tatum. That flame that refuses to be tamed. It dances and writhes within his soul when he looks at the woman he loves.
Are you trying to say Declan loves you? My internal voice questions.
Do I think Declan loves me? No… Maybe… I don’t know! All I know now is that when he looks at me, it doesn’t feel like hate anymore. I honestly don’t know if it ever really did. And if he doesn’t really hate me, I need to find out why he has tried to make me believe he does for all these years.
I could guess the obvious answer. He’s best friends with my big brother. But even that feels like too weak of a reason for a man like him. No, Declan is as stubborn as they come, and obstinate men will persist to get what they want. He would never let something as trivial as me being his best friend’s sister stop him from pursuing me if he truly desired to.
So, if that’s not it, what is it?
What is his reason for pushing me away? What’s his reason for keeping his past hidden from me so keenly? Why does he think he will ruin me? I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I’m far beyond desperate to learn them.
Resolve thickens in my bloodstream as I slap my hands against the armrests and stand from my seat. I’m not going to find my answers sitting on my ass contemplating them. The only way I’m going to get the answers to my burning questions is by retrieving them straight from the source. Declan has hidden from me for long enough, and it’s far past time to drag him out.
Hardening my jaw, I stride confidently toward the door and step out into the hallway. I quickly pull it shut and head toward the stairs with determination in every step. But as I reach the newest apartment, I notice the door is slightly open, causing my brisk pace to falter.
Quietly, I step up to the studio. Curiosity rides me hard as I place my hands against the door. Liam mentioned that this was Declan’s new apartment; I wonder if he’s hiding inside. It would explain why I haven’t seen him if he’s been staying here instead of his studio across from mine.
My heart climbs up into my throat, and a dull ringing settles in my ears. Heat rushes to my face as I start to push the door open. My fingers are shaking as it swings wide, hoping to reveal the man just as mysterious as this place.
But what I see instead steals my breath right from my lungs.
I’ve forgotten how long it’s been since the last time I was up here, but to say the space looks different would be an understatement. The once concrete floor is now covered with dark, wooden flooring that I only saw in the box. Its rich coloring is slightly dimmed with construction dust, but I know once it's cleaned up, it will be a lush, beautiful dark wood that I’ll be extremely jealous of Declan for having.
All of the walls are covered with a deep green color that reminds me of home. Matching dark trim lies against the floor, ready to be hung. Artfully placed gold light pendants accent the industrial lofted ceiling. My gaze follows each one until they land upon the small kitchenette tucked in the corner.
Knowing better but deciding I don’t care, I step into the empty apartment and softly close the door behind me. My mouth parts on a quiet breath as I take in the small gothic-themed kitchenette. There are no countertops yet, but judging by the color scheme of the entire apartment, I would say that whatever he chooses, it will look absolutely–
“Perfect,” I mumble to myself.
I can’t keep the smile from my lips as I run my hands along the dark wooden cabinets. Even though it’s much smaller than the one in my old home, I still envy Declan for having this.
My chest aches as a swell of sadness rises. I know it’s silly, but I miss having my own kitchen. I may not have been the greatest cook, but I always enjoyed trying new things and experimenting with new flavors. It's something I haven’t been able to do since the fire. I hadn’t realized until now that I even missed that part of who I used to be.
Is that the only part of your old self you miss?
The internally voiced question jars me. Do I miss the old me? Is there even a version of myself left behind to miss? I feel like any old version of myself burnt up within the flames engulfing my old home, taking with it the memory of myself.
I know without a doubt that I am no longer the person I used to be. Having been forced to live amongst the MC‘s chaos has definitely altered me in ways that are irreversible at this point.
I used to be a true loner. I would have sooner sawed my own arm off than go to a simple girls' night in the past. And yet, I just hosted my first one a week ago. Although it did get cut short, I still consider it a win. And now that I think of it, it goes much deeper than that.
Even just a year ago, I had no need or want for a close familial bond. I was fine with only seeing my family on holidays or big events, like weddings. Sure, I always saw Liam a little more often than the others, but that was honestly all I allowed. Li isn’t wrong to call me cold-hearted; I have always been frigid at best. I shut people out; it’s what I do. I shut down any real opportunity to become closer with others before it has a chance to bloom into anything more. But living with Liam and his chosen family, and being involved in their lives, has made me crave more as of late.
I've grown tired of allowing myself to be excluded. Tired of being too afraid to let others see me. It’s a childish notion to think that people will leave you once you let them in. It's time for me to let go of that belief, even if it’s scary.
For the first time in my life, I want to have people to hold on to. And with their chaotic entrance, the urge to push everyone away has dwindled more and more with each passing day. Seeing how this family is always there for one another has made me realize that not all people are just waiting for the moment they can abandon you.
As I step away from the small kitchen, a warm feeling in my stomach spreads with the realization that I want this. I want to be surrounded by this family that cares so deeply for one another. I want the friendships that refuse to be ignored and discarded. I want to understand the man who has pushed me away just as much as I have everyone else.
I need to find Declan. Need to discover why he continues to push me away when the flames in his eyes scream in opposition. Has he done it to protect his heart as I have mine? Since the moment I met him, I’ve felt the need to learn more about him. A dark curiosity that has only grown with time. It was only through our mutual stubbornness that this senseless feud has been allowed to continue.
No more.
It’s far past time for me to unravel the very fabric that binds his soul together. I’ve decided this is the path I want to take. And I want him by my side. But I need to know if he wants this as much as I do. I just need to find him.
Turning on my heels, I quickly head for the door. But before I can take a single step, the dark figure looming by the bathroom door causes me to stumble. I swallow nervously as the object of my fervent desire leans against the doorframe and stares me down. A fine tremble climbs my spine as his violet eyes devour me as if he’s a starved predator.
“Are you lost, La Mia Alba?”
TWENTY-TWO
DECLAN
The smell of fresh paint coats the insides of my sinuses so thoroughly that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to clear the scent completely. Still, I spread the last coat in the small bathroom where I'm standing. Glancing around once more, I feel a sense of accomplishment at how far this place has come in just the last month. By stepping into this apartment, it's evident how I have been spending most of my time since Sofee started living here.
Stepping back from the wet wall, I let the roller fall to my side as I admire the feminine bathroom that’s supposed to be mine. A short breath leaves my nose as I scoff at myself. I can’t even make myself believe that this place was ever going to be for me.
The large cream-colored freestanding tub is hint enough of that. Am I the type of guy who would enjoy a nice long bath? Hell no. This expensive soaker isn’t for me. Just like the pretty golden light fixtures that match the vanity knobs and sink faucet weren’t selected with my own tastes in mind. I don’t care about any of these things. Give me a somewhat operational shower and a toilet that flushes, and you’ll never hear a complaint from me. No, all these hand-placed tiles and fancy flourishes were never meant for me. All these things I’ve purchased over the last few months have been selected with only one thing on my mind. The one person I should stop thinking about but for the life of me can’t.
I thought getting a taste of Sofee, having ownership over her body, and stealing her pleasure just for one night would free me from this obsession. I believed I could fuck her out of my system with one passionate night, and it’s almost comical how mistaken I was.
Ever since the moment I slipped inside her warmth and finally allowed myself a respite from the agony that has been the last few months of my life, she has since destroyed me. Irrevocably, she has consumed every single thought and action I’ve had since the first moment her slick heat and softness fully enveloped me.
I used to come up here for a small reprieve from the maddening thoughts. Of the dark, distasteful fantasies always featuring her at the center. But it seems that the more I've worked on this studio apartment, the harder it is to ignore her presence. She's intertwined in every aspect of my work - in every grain of the wooden floor, every stroke of paint, every splatter of grout, and every sharp nail driven through the walls. The thought of her is deeply ingrained in everything this place has become. And at this point, there is no hope of undoing it.
I could demolish this apartment back down to its bare bones. Could rip everything down to the studs and start fresh, and she would still reside here. It seems that no matter where I go or what I do, she will always be there, lingering within each corner of my mind. Her wails of passion and sharp words coated in venom. Her beautiful features contorted in blissful release or frowning with aggression. Every piece of her will forever consume my mind so completely that there is no clear route to escape.
This place may have once been where I came to ignore the small female I've become obsessed with, but it has transformed into something entirely different. Taking her for the first time opened my eyes to the true purpose of this place for me. I've discovered that it's no longer a place where I can come to take out my frustrations. No longer is it a place I can come to escape her. Now I realize it has always been a sanctuary where I can be shamelessly surrounded by her.
It's the guilt that has chased me here today. The insidious conscience that has ridden me hard since I first witnessed her unraveling for me. A shot of lust tingles down my spine as I recall the sight of her crumbling in my hands. Beautifully untamed as she savored each sensation of the dark pleasure I gave her. The same sinister passion she ignited in me when she begged me to ruin her.
The way she pleaded so prettily for my corruption almost made me believe she truly wanted me to taint her for all others. I allowed myself to believe that she wanted me as much as I did in that moment, and I never wanted to return to a reality where it could never be so.
Because at the end of the day, I'm merely a dark fantasy for her, a perverted curiosity she needed to satisfy. Good girls like her never end up with horrendous heathens like me. I can never allow her to actually ruin her life by being with the likes of me in any permanent capacity.
Right. I nearly scoff at myself again. As if I’ll be able to let her go now.
Placing the roller back into the tray full of paint, I roll my shoulders back in hopes of relieving some of the tension building there. I lean against the cream-colored vanity and stare at my reflection.
My eyes look dull, even to me. The dark circles shadow the thin skin under the violet orbs, showing the world how tired I am. I haven’t been able to sleep lately, not with her being so close yet so far away from me. Even just walking past her door these last few days has become unbearable. I can’t stand the thought of her being just in the next room and not being able to touch her. But even if I can’t physically reach her, I have another way to still be with her.
Pushing away from the vanity, I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. If anyone knew how many times I have used TSA in the last week alone, they would arrest me for stalking. Swiping my thumb across the screen, I pull up the app with sheer muscle memory and press the audio button. I know she doesn’t work for another few hours, but most of the time I can still hear her as long as she’s near her name tag. But right now, the only sound emanating from the small speaker is a soft static.
Am I sick for listening in without her knowledge? Yes. But I simply can't resist at this point. If I can’t be with her in person, this seems like the next best thing. So I don’t fucking care if it’s morally questionable to listen in on her without her knowledge. It’s not like I’ve ever been held to a higher ethical standard before she came into my life, so why would that change now?
But even if listening in every day is helping to curb my appetite for her, my addiction is still becoming too much to bear.
So, for that reason alone, I’ve been camping out here. Sleeping on a makeshift bed, constructed of thick blankets, in the corner of the main room to escape her. Ironically, now that I can no longer evade her here, sleep has been completely elusive.
So, in order to ignore my crippling exhaustion, I’ve been working tirelessly to get this place ready. Ready for what, I’m not sure. I now realize I will never be able to live here with the essence of her lingering so strongly.
The sound of shuffling feet in the next room pulls my attention away from my phone. Cocking my head to the side, I face the doorway that leads to the main room. Suddenly, the shuffling stops, and the sound of a small gasp sends a jolt of awareness shooting down my spine.
“Perfect,” a soft voice mutters.
Excitement and panic surge through my nervous system as I hear the one distant word coming from all too familiar lips. I mindlessly lock the screen on my phone and place it on the vanity before stepping over to the open doorway and peering out.
