Wrecked

You know when everything feels too good? Too nice? Too normal? Picture perfect. The ocean is soft and gentle on the surface but underneath, the under tow is waiting to tear you down and pull you into its depths. That’s how I’ve been feeling lately.

Ever since our night in the tub a week ago, Rafe has been different. Nicer. Kinder. More like the Rafe that would spend time with me at the diner. As much as I’m thrilled, I’m terrified. Like I’m walking on eggshells to keep our illusion afloat. I desperately want to believe this is true. That this is just the new normal. But I still feel that current at my toes, tugging, tugging, tugging. Just waiting for the right moment to pull me under.

As I lay on the bed in nothing but Rafe’s shirt, watching him get ready for some meeting, I suddenly feel the urge to say what I’ve been holding in my chest for so long. I love Rafe Cammargo. I think my foolish heart probably has since he paid for my subs.

The sun is shining through the windows, streaks of warm light fanning along the polished floors. Rafe looks like an angel among them, carved to perfection standing in his boxers while putting on a navy dress shirt. I know that he isn’t an angel though, or least he’d be a fallen one. But either way I’d love him, fallen or not.

“I love you.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud but it slipped past my lips before I could hold it back.

Rafe freezes in place, his hands pausing where they were buttoning his shirt. I can only see half of his face from the direction he’s facing, but I can feel the mistake I’ve made hanging in the air between us. “What did you just say?”

I adjust on the bed, set both of my feet on the floor while watching the muscles in his neck tense at my sudden confession. “I love you.” It’s less bold this time, barely above a whisper.

Lightning bolts flash between us when his stormy eyes clash with mine, singeing my heart. “No, you don’t.” His hands drop from his shirt, his body turning to face me, the veins in his arms and hands pulsing as he clenches his fists. “Take it back.”

I shake my head, confused tears stinging the back of my eyes. “No.” I blink when he takes a step toward me, feeling his anger lash me like a whip. “I won't.”

His hand swipes across his mouth, his feet angrily stomping toward me. I tilt my face back to look up at him as he stands over me, my hands trembling. “Love is conditional. It’s not real.” His palms grab my face, shaking me like he needs me to really hear what he’s saying. “Love manipulates and rejects. Love hurts. Love doesn’t exist. Not here.”

I raise my hand, smooth it along his over my cheek. My heart breaks for him, every word he says seems to be painful for him to say, steel grays begging for me to listen.

But he’s wrong.

He must see on my face what I haven’t said. Must see something that scares him more than his aversion to love. “You don’t love me, Ember.”

“But I do—”

He jerks away from me, throwing my hand like I’ve spit a bout of acid at him. He yanks me up from the bed, hauling me up to the full length mirror in the room by my arm. “Look at yourself in the mirror.” I refuse, keeping my eyes on the ground instead. I don’t know what he thinks he’ll accomplish with this, but I already know it won’t work. “You are nothing but property, say it.” I ignore him. “You are nothing but an object, say it.” My throat tightens but I keep my gaze down. I bite the inside of my cheek, closing my eyes when he yells, “You mean nothing to me, say it!”

His hand wraps up in my hair, gripping tight enough it’s pulling at my roots while angling my face from the floor. He’s forcing me to look at myself in the mirror now, trying to force me to believe the lies I know he’s spitting from his chest.

I won’t do it.

“Say it, Ember.” He lightly shakes my head by my hair, teeth bared at me like the wolf he wants me to believe he is. “Fucking say it!”

Tears are bleeding down my cheeks, coming straight from the wound in my heart. “No.” I swallow when he bellows in my ear, and close my eyes for just a moment when he smacks the mirror next to my face.

My hair is released just for my face to be grabbed, yanked sideways to face him. “Then watch me say it.” My cheeks are squeezed in his palm, my teeth cutting them up from the inside, but I ignore it. “You are nothing but property. You are nothing but an object. You mean nothing to me.”

I swallow past the pain his words carve into my heart, refusing to acknowledge any truths he claims to be saying. “You’re lying.” My voice is hoarse from holding back my emotion, deep with my tears. “Maybe it started that way. Maybe you really felt that when you first brought me here, but I refuse to believe you still do.” His chest is heaving, the mask he’s perfected starting to split at the seams. His false face is falling apart and he doesn’t know what to do about it. “Say whatever you want, Rafe Cammargo, but I know you love me. Spit your lies in my face all you want, but I’ll never believe them. Despite what you think, you deserve love. You deserve happiness. Love exists and I fucking love you.”

It’s like a switch goes off. The Rafe I was starting to pull from his shell is shoved back into the dark and his monster mask is slammed into place. “You love me? Fine.”

His lips ram into mine, brutal and cruel but I don’t fight him. I know that whatever is about to happen is going to absolutely tear me to shreds, but I also know that I can’t stop it. This was set in motion from the moment those three words of hope escaped from my chest. Doomed to end in absolute disaster. I let myself believe in us too soon and this is the fall out.

I’m lifted off of the floor, strong arms lifting me up just to toss me back onto the bed. I yelp, bouncing on the mattress when I land. Crawling backward on my hands, I watch as Rafe rips his shirt from his arms, and he drops his boxers to the floor. He’s beautiful in his angry, cruel glory. But also savage. He grabs my ankle, jerking me to where he’s standing. His touch is a little too rough, my skin screaming where he holds.

But I say nothing, letting him rip his shirt over my head. He crawls over me the second I’m bared to him, teeth sinking into the skin of my thigh like a rabid dog. I suck my lips between my teeth to keep my whimper in my chest, refusing to let him see my fear. His fingers sink into my flesh everywhere they grab, pinching and jerking in an attempt to get a reaction out of me. He wants me to believe he’s the monster he says he is. He wants to scare me into submission.

But it won’t work. Not this time.

My body stings from his mouth, my throat burning from every scream I’ve kept contained behind my lips. He rises between my hips, eyes of charcoal burning into mine. I know he can see the tears rimming the edges, can see the damage he’s already done to my flesh. I also know it won’t stop him.

Removing my nails from their death-grip on the sheets, I raise my hand and run my fingers over the edge of his stubbled cheek. I bleed every ounce of my hope chest into that touch. I want him to see that I don’t care about his monster. And for a moment, he falters.

But only a moment.

He drops his forearms by my head, stretching my knees wide around his hips. With one hard thrust of his hips, he impales me with his dick and I bite my lip, tears leaking down my cheeks to wet the pillow below my head. Despite the slick dripping down my thighs, we both know this isn’t what I wanted. He pauses above me, an almost defeated, “You love me? Because this, this is me,” rasped into my ear.

“Yes.” The one word bangs in the room, loud and sure even as I fight more tears.

Rafe pushes off of me, not even bothering to finish what he started. I don’t watch him grab his clothes. I don’t watch him pull them on. Instead, I roll over in the bed and grab the loose sheet to wrap up in, flinching when the door slams shut.