Her Shadows, His Secrets

Ego-crushing siren… for now.

“Oh, you will be, greens. I plan to see a lot of you.” I leave no room for her to read into what I’m saying. I lay it all out. Hanna will be in my hands, in my bed, and at my will. We won’t have a relationship beyond that, and I intend to make her see just how fucking thrilling this town can be now that I’m here. Before, it was dull, and after me, she will regret ever meeting me. And I’m the bastard who knows it but don’t care. I want her. Crave her. Want to taste that skin against my tongue.

“In your dreams, doorknob.” Like that, she’s gone, letting herself in and shutting the door. I watch the house for a few moments longer before I finally turn and head home. I had planned for tonight to be spent on more time with her, but that will have to happen another night. If I’m going to get her where I need her, I may just have to turn on the real charm, the romance I will regretfully have to tell her isn’t for anything other than respect for her, while I plan to disrespect her in the bedroom.

And I know she will love it. No matter how hard she has to fight her inner warnings. I will break her under me.

CHAPTER EIGHT

HANNA

What the hell was that?

Hanna, do not—I repeat—do not let him get in your head.

He’s messing with me. He has to be. I internally fight with myself as I undress and turn on the shower, still not used to not having to worry about the hot water running out. I’ve been here a short amount of time, and it’s been a hell of a ride already, especially today.

Brenda’s brother, is… God, he’s hot. Attractive, and not just the normal, decently attractive kind. I’m talking out of this world, someone who you see in movies or have modeling careers. Not someone who could ever be seen with me. Definitely not someone who would want to place their perfectly masculine hands on my imperfect body. He is just playing a game. A cruel one, and I won’t let him in.

But it doesn’t make it any less painful. It hurts. Why do women like me have to be belittled, shamed, and mocked? Can’t we just be left alone… or better yet, loved? Aren’t we deserving? Do the lines stretching across our skin mar us to the point of repulsion? Are the curves so disgusting that they don’t deserve the intimate touch of a man who we desire? Whether they be men like Theo or men just like us? From all types of men. Why are women who look like me so hard to love for all the imperfections we carry instead of all the other things we have to offer? Better yet, why are bodies like mine considered imperfect at all?

I stare at myself in the mirror, now stripped of any fabric. Even I can’t stand the sight of me. The world has made women like me seem so undeserving and abhorrent that even we can’t see anything worthy of touching, loving, or desiring. What a brutal world, and how pitiful that people will always find it acceptable to hurt and tear us apart until all we are is skin, bones, fat—just bodies. Not humans. We are at the mercy of a world so cruel.

Shaking my head, I let those thoughts go.

He’s just as shitty as the rest the world. Don’t let his nice talk fool you.

Stepping into the water, I ignore anything else but the task of washing away the night and preparing for sleep. I’ve still been sleeping on the couch downstairs at night. I haven’t been able to feel settled enough to make myself at home yet. I’ve really just been working, spending time in the garden, and reading on the porch, with Dorothy and Clyde running around the front yard.

Maybe one day I’ll find the reason JD never came to me or reached out but left everything he had to his name to me. That’s reaching; I doubt I ever will, but it’s nice to pretend, isn’t it? The water feels nice, I’m exhausted honestly, and I’m thankful I have the next two days at home, because my trainer had these days off prior to my starting there. Now, I can spend time outside in the garden. I also picked up a new novel I’m dying to devour. A mystery thriller romance. Yes, please.

Climbing out, I dry my feet on the shower mat and wrap the bath blanket around my body. Dorothy and Clyde stare up at me as I put on lotion and face moisturizer. They truly have not left my side anytime I’m home. They must miss my grandfather; you can see it in their eyes, I swear it. But the gentle giants protect me like no one nor nothing has before.