The Secrets of a Sin, page 22
“Fuck!” Mr. Rossi roars as Charlotte squeezes my hand. The agonizing pain in his howl reverberates through my hollow bones and even pierces away at my heart. Just from that, I knew his suffering was genuine. He was experiencing the same fucking torture as I was, if not more.
“She didn’t kill herself. She wouldn’t have, not while knowing she was carrying your child.” I go on.
“I didn’t fucking murder her, Arsen!” He snarls with venom laced in his words.
“We know you didn’t.” Charlotte responds in hopes of calming him. “We know you didn’t kill her.”
He immediately rises to his feet, with fury in his hasty movements. “Then who did it? Who the fuck would kill Phoebe?”
That was the question of the hour, but now, we had another indication that someone else had an arm in Phoebe’s death.
Or, possibly, multiple people.
20
ARSEN
As much as I wanted to get lost between her luscious thighs and forget fucking everything that has happened, I won’t.
I can’t.
My whole life, I’ve managed to evade my emotions. Where sadness and joy were easier to avoid, anger was my drawback. It burned within my belly as if it was always waiting for the perfect moment to strike and consume me whole. At age six, I discovered what the pain from a kick to the stomach felt like. It was a pivotal moment for my youth. A crucial point in my life where I uncovered a sickening rage that was brewing deep within me. By ten, dark thoughts invaded my head, and every waking day and night, I imagined all the ways I’d inflict pain on those who abused us. I was small and frail, but I knew one day I’d be strong enough to kill. At that young of an age, I knew no one else was going to keep Phoebe and me safe.
It was my obligation to protect us, and I kept that promise up until recently.
Now everything was more fucked up than before. Who I had thought killed her, didn’t. Now, it was possible three other girls could have been responsible for her death, or at least they knew more than they let on.
“Arsen?” Charlotte’s timid voice materializes. I had almost forgotten her small form resting in the passenger seat beside me. Glancing over, I notice she has one leg propped up onto the seat, under her other leg, and her small hand bounces steadily over her thigh. She’s unsure of herself. Uncomfortable around my fragile state and vulnerability. She can’t even look me in the eyes. I want to seize her hand like she did mine and demand her to meet my stare. I need her to tell me everything is going to be okay.
I need her to tell me all the reasons why I shouldn’t fucking want her.
“What?” I force out, keeping my eyes on the road in front of me.
“You passed St. Catherine’s.”
Yah, you’re fucking lucky I passed it.
“I know.” I grunt, sensing the gears turning in her head already.
“Well, where are we going then?” Her usually timid voice is uneasy and angry. For my selfish reasons, I need her with me tonight. She was my life vest when life was continually trying to drown me. She sparked hope in the deepest parts of my heart, whether I liked it or not, and tonight, I wasn’t going to let her get away.
“My house.”
From my peripheral vision, I see her chocolate locks sway as she shakes her head. “I can’t… I can’t go to your house.” She scoffs like the idea of coming home with me is far-fetched for her.
“You can, and you will.” I demand harshly, wanting her for once to just give in and obey me.
It was goddamn exhausting.
“Or walk back to the school once we get there. I don’t fucking care.” As the words slip past my tongue, I know it isn’t the truth because I wasn’t going to let her leave. But I’d at least give her hope that there’d be a way out.
What was so bad about coming to my house anyway? Sure, we didn’t exactly get along, but I thought that if she was a decent fucking person, she wouldn’t leave me alone tonight. And I already knew she was good, but with me, she wanted to resist every chance she got.
“If I stay, will you at least drive me back later tonight?” She huffs in annoyance, surprising me with her quickness to give in. I was expecting more.
“Sure.” I give her a vague answer because, in reality, I had no intention of driving her back to St. Catherine’s. Tonight, she was mine. If getting her out of my system wasn’t going to work, I’d at least lose myself in her body to ease the pain of today.
My house was my sanctuary. I never called it home before. Because growing up, I never knew what it was like to have one. I never felt secure or the comfort of living in a loving home. The word ‘home’ changed to ‘hell’. Hell was the place Phoebe and I had survived. As I continue down the winding road towards home, I peek over at Charlotte, who appears in awe as she stares out the window. Towering trees cover each side of the road as we drive further and further into seclusion, and I already feel a weight being lifted off my shoulders as a sense of familiarity and comfort fills my chest.
“Do you live out in the middle of nowhere?” Charlotte questions as her eyes are still glued outside the passenger window. “I haven’t seen a single house in miles.”
“I like my privacy.” I shrug, but mostly I hated the idea of living next to someone. I can barely stand being around Charlotte when she’s disobeying me, so me having a neighbor that I’d feel obligated to interact with would most likely end up being bad for the both of us.
As we climb up the final hill to reveal the driveway, I hear a short intake of breath coming from Charlotte as she notices my house slowly come into view. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but the surrounding trees gave it more appeal. It was in complete disarray when I purchased it. The siding was old and crumbling. The walls were caved in, and the amount of trash and miscellaneous shit stuffed inside the dated Victorian home had been unbelievable. I busted my ass, earned a shit ton of splinters, but within two years, I had created something I was fucking proud of.
“It’s beautiful, Arsen.” Charlotte praises, and my heart flickers. Knowing that she admired my home made me even more appreciative of what I had done.
As I pull into the driveway, Charlotte’s eyes immediately light up now that the house is closer in view. They widen in awe, but there’s also a glimmer to them that makes me want to dive headfirst into their depths and get lost.
Fuck. She was clueless as to the effect she had on me.
I was enamored with every little thing about her, regardless of my constant denial. She wasn’t like other women. She didn’t fall at my feet like the rest so willingly did. Charlotte refused, and as much as I hated her defiance, I admired her strength.
As we come to a stop in front of the house, I can sense the apprehension in her movements as she stiffens beside me.
What was she worried about, anyway?
Was she afraid I would immediately pounce on her like some horny teenager? Fuck yes, I wanted inside her more than I wanted my next breath, but like the hunter I am, I wait for the perfect moment to strike.
And now wasn't it.
“Let me show you inside.” I say in a calming voice that causes her frantic eyes to land on mine. She loosens her frame as if she notices she’s rigid, then nods on a half-smile.
“Okay.”
That’s it, angel. Relax, I won’t hurt you.
We both exit the car, and she trails close behind me until we reach the front door. The see-through windows, painted black like the rest of the house, are adorned with intricate swirls and lines that cover the length of each side. With some little handiwork and new paint, the original door looks brand spanking new, and by the way Charlotte’s jaw is hanging down, I can tell she appreciates it too.
Opening the door, I walk in first and let her take her time before she slowly enters behind me. “Holy shit.” She whispers, and I grin.
The entryway is nothing to praise as the walls are bare, and the floor needs a good vacuuming. My clean house has gone to shit after Phoebe’s death. I feel slightly embarrassed that she’s seeing it like this.
Fuck, I’m never flustered like this around women.
Partly annoyed and in need of a drink after today's events, I usher her into the living room. Opening the cabinet door of my mini-bar, I grab the unopened bottle of whiskey and tear off the cap until the potent smell hits my nostrils.
“I… maybe it isn’t such a good idea to have me here.” Charlotte stutters from behind me as I begin to pour the liquid into my glass. A low chuckle reverberates within the back of my throat as I imagine all the perverse presumptions that are undoubtedly floating through her head.
“Just sit down and relax. I’m not going to fucking maul you if that’s what you’re worried about.” I snarl a bit rudely as I lift the cool glass to my lips and take a short sip. The whiskey burns as it runs down my throat, but it also relieves the tension that has been building up inside me all day.
“That's not...I just figured you’d want to be alone.” She confesses as I spin on my foot to face her uneasy form, standing awkwardly beside my couch. Even in my teetering state of emotions, I can’t fight the compulsion to sweep my eyes over Charlotte's figure. Her porcelain skin contrasted prettily with her conservative black dress that does nothing to conceal her appeal. Her legs shake, violently trembling as if she knows every vile thought surging through my head. Or even better, she is remembering all the sinful things that I have already done to her.
“If I wanted to be alone, I would be.” I bring the glass up to my lips, meeting her heated stare over the rim of the glass. Her throat contracts, causing my pulse to go haywire and my tongue to instantly dry.
“I… I shouldn’t be here. I need to go.” She spins on her heel, escaping down a hallway that leads nowhere. Immediately dropping my glass onto the coffee table, I eagerly chase after her, feeling something other than pain rush through the ventricles of my heart. My feet carry me in heavy strides across the hardwood floor. My chest fills with longing and suspense when her small form stops at the end of the hall. Shifting her head back and forth in each direction, I notice the desperation in her movements. She was trapped with nowhere to go, and damn if the sight of her hopelessness didn’t send a wicked chill down my spine.
With her back to me, her breathing escalates, and her body tenses as a creek in the floors signals my presence.
You can run all you want, angel, but you’re in my lair now.
“Let me go, Arsen.” Her voice quivers as she refuses to face me and come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to let her leave.
Sighing into the heavy atmosphere, I trail my eyes over the nape of her neck and down to the tight fabric that sheaths her ass. My jaw tightens, and I stalk closer to her as my insides blaze with a fiery possession. The sensation was completely foreign, as women were nothing more than objects to fill my carnal desires. I used and used until I thought I was no longer a man, that a beast had taken over my soul. I believed I was immune to all aspects of emotion.
“I think it’s about time that I make myself clear and that you get through that pretty little head of yours that when I say you're mine, I fucking mean it.” I say as casually as I can, but every word that spills from my mouth is anything but.
“I’m not yours, Arsen. I never was and never will be.” Her breathy whisper does nothing to ease the excitement that’s building inside me. She was fighting her feelings, fighting something that was making her fucking pull away from me, and I wanted to shake her.
“Oh, but you are, angel.”
She hastily twists her body until she’s facing me with eyes the size of dinner plates and cheeks that match the color of blood. With one step closer, I could wrap my fingers around her slim neck. I could taste those luscious fucking lips and swallow every liquid, every moan that tries to escape her mouth. But instead, I study my prey.
“What is it you want from me? A fuck?” She seethes through gritted teeth. “You want to finally screw the freak so you can get me out of your system, is that it?” Her voice sounds broken like she was on the verge of collapsing, but with her head held high, she remains strong under my presence.
“Get you out?” I chuckle, closing the gap between us, going from safe to deadly, and forcing her eyes onto mine. “How can I possibly rid myself of someone who has embedded themselves into every goddamn part of me?” I demand, trying my damn hardest not to touch her in some way.
Her stare widens in disbelief, but a hint of panic also emerges, and her eyes fill with tears. “You only want me because I won’t bend over backward for you like every other woman you’ve screwed. All I am is a challenge to you. Nothing more.” She shakes her head frantically as her feet carry her backward, away from me.
My stare shifts over to the door directly beside Charlotte, and all I can think is that I need to get her in that room and somehow make her realize that she’s fully bewitched me. Hook, line, and sinker, I was doomed from the very beginning, and now, there was no possible way I could let her go. “You’re right.” I confess, watching as her face completely falls. “You were never meant to be anything more than just a warm hole for my cock. Even in the very beginning, when you were helping me, I knew I needed to find a way in between your legs, even if for just a taste of the woman that had been continually defying me at every turn.”
“Stop.” She twists her head away from me as if hearing my confession pains her, but she needs to hear the truth. Every harmful admission I knew would gut her, but it had to be done.
Approaching her at lightning speed, I pin her trembling body to my pounding chest. I brace for a shove, but when it never comes, I manage to curve my hand around the back of her head and capture her nape in a firm grip. “Never.” I force her head up with a short tug and fall headfirst into the dark haze of her eyes. Evident lust lingers in their depths, but I can sense that she is fighting her unwanted emotions.
“Why me?” She pleads in a whisper as her eyes search through our heated stare for answers.
The answer was as obvious as it was unknown. I didn’t need to describe the exact reasons as to why I needed her. I just did. Every dark part of me had slowly been filled with the need to possess her. To own and consume her until our souls became one. So why Charlotte? Because we were the same.
With my free hand, I reach down for hers and pull it up until her palm is resting directly over my heart. “You feel that?” I ask as the weight of her hand causes my heart to jump. I study her closely as her eyes drop to where she’s touching me, and she slowly nods. “My heart only beats that way with you.”
A sharp exhale rushes out, and her head lifts to capture my gaze in a cataclysmic clash. “You’re mine, Charlotte, whether you want to accept it or not. Every inch of your perfect flesh will only ever feel me.” I squeeze her nape gently. “Your eyes will only ever see mine, and your heart will only beat for me.”
“You don’t understand, Arsen. I can’t do this with you.” She clasps her hand tightly around my shirt as her voice shakes. “I can’t… I can’t be with you the way you want.”
Regardless of whatever internal battles she was fighting, I knew for a fucking fact that nothing was going to stop me from taking what I wanted from her. She could make excuses all night for why she couldn't be with me, but we both knew, in the end, I was going to claim her.
“Explain to me why it’s okay for you to get off on my fingers, but you can’t be mine?” I challenge her in a snarl. “Tell me what you’re hiding.” I demand, feeling my veins ignite with fire.
“I can’t tell you.” She cries out in anger, which only causes mine to intensify. With my right hand still securely wrapped behind her head, I take my other and clutch at the curve right above her hip.
“Look at me.” I order harshly, pulling her in as close as we can get, so we’re now nose-to-nose. “No more running. No more fucking defying me and dismissing what we have because I can feel the frantic beat of your heart. It's the only part of you telling the truth right now.”
She wets her lip in one slow motion, and my teeth grit with the need to bite her tongue and taste her coppery blood.
“And no more secrets.” I grind out, about ready to assault her mouth with mine, but she jerks her head back in response.
“Your whole life is a secret, Arsen. I don’t know one thing about you, and yet, you want to berate me about the skeletons in my closet?” She argues, trying to pull her face away from mine, but I keep her imprisoned against me.
“My secrets aren't stopping me from taking what I want, but if you want to know everything about me? Fine. I’ll fucking tell you. I’ll share every grim detail of my life.” I snarl with force as my grip on her neck tightens.
“Just let me go.” She demands with a braveness in her tone that only causes my fury to spike. Could she not realize that I wasn’t ever going to fucking let her go? Call me crazy, a goddamn psychopath if you may, but she was my new obsession. My preferred opiate that I couldn’t flush out of my system and was hooked on. I needed to claim her.
With my hand still holding onto her hip, I grasp onto her tight as I push her backward until her back is roughly smashed against the wall. Her small gasp was music to my ears, fueling my dark intent with carnal cravings that shook my body. “Arsen…” She begs with tears that stream down her eyes. Being the bastard I am, I lean down and drag my tongue through the wetness. My tongue gently slides up the side of her cheek as an animalist groan erupts from my chest. Her skin tastes sweet as her flavor hits my tongue, but it was her tears that I wanted to savor. I want to be the one to make her cry, make her scream, and make that heart of hers beat like a V8 engine.
“Tell me you don’t want this, angel.” I slither my tongue towards the top of her ear, gnawing at the skin in gentle tugs. “Tell me you don’t think about me owning you in every possible way.”
As her breasts are smashed against my chest, I let the rhythmic beat of her heart pull me deeper into her allure. She is awfully silent for someone who is shaking like a leaf in my arms, so I coax her with a sharp jab of my hips. A beautiful moan finally slips out of her mouth and fills the air when I grind my erection into her center.
