Ruin (The Rhodes 1)

She doesn’t flinch at my harsh tone. Instead, she stands and strolls towards me with steady composed steps. She sits beside me and places both her hands on each side of my cheeks, her palms warm against my skin. Any repugnance I have against people’s touch is null and void with Mae. Quite oppositely, a raw need to touch her back takes the better of me. I keep my hands to myself when her calm voice washes over me. “I don’t want to fix you, Aaron. I just want to understand you better.”

A deep digging starts somewhere in my chest, the sound so loud that my ears almost burst from echoing it.

What is this woman? Why did she say the words only Uncle dared to say in my entire existence? Why would she want to understand someone like me?

My chest submerges with the constant digging. Citrus asphyxiates me with a mixture of brightness, freshness, and... life. Mae smells like life. I didn’t even know what that smelled like until now.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Mae?” I whisper the words before I could realise it.

She leans close until her breaths mingle with mine. Her eyes soften as they bore into my gaze, mirroring my confusion. “I’m the one who’s supposed to ask that.”

My mouth finds hers, and any rational thoughts vanish at the softness of her lips. The world hushes into the background, only the sound of me consuming her mouth remains. That unfamiliar sensation I had when I first kissed her comes back. It starts with my tongue ravishing hers and finishes some place in my neurons’ ending. I haven’t deciphered it before, but now I know. This is what it feels like to taste life.

This is what it feels like to be alive.

‘No, it’s not!’ Father and Aunt bellow in my head. ‘Either kill her or we will do it for you.’

Chapter Twenty-Four

Mae

My boots are heavy against the grass. Even walking has become a hindrance. The cloudy late afternoon adds to my gloom. Why does everything seem to be against me these days?

Silver’s muzzle tickles my neck. I giggle and twist sideways. The mare keeps reaching out for me, sniffing my hair. I give her a side glare, and she huffs.

All right, everything is against me except for Silver.

“Easy, Jet.” Aaron clutches the reins of his horse as he descends.

It’s been over a month since he got shot. He seems fully recovered now. He even went back to work a few days ago. Today is the first time we’ve ridden after his recovery.

My eyes wander to his broad shoulders, perfectly outlined by his riding jacket. The khaki trousers give his long muscular legs their due. He’s definitely back to shape. God, why does he have to be so beautiful? My poor heart is unable to take such torture.

Not like Aaron has been around to torture me.

Since we had our second kiss, he withdrew into himself. Kane took care of him and I was, once again, locked in my room. As if I did something entirely unforgivable and had to be punished for it.

But this afternoon, Aaron barged into the room, appearing as handsome as ever, and asked me to ride with him. Being me, I followed him out.

I missed the estate’s fresh air, birds’ chirping, and Silver’s attitude. But most of all, I missed the man walking by my side. He hasn’t uttered a word during the entire stroll. I poked him every way possible, but he seemed to have transformed into the mute from his childhood. I eventually held my tongue, too. To initiate conversation, I had to step over my injured heart. Aaron crushed it all over again by s

ubtly ignoring my existence.

Enough is enough. No matter how much I yearn for him, I have pride. I’m not a toy for him to toss then go back to when he’s in the mood.

Handing Silver’s reins to the stable boy, I storm back into the quarters, uncaring if Aaron is on my heels. I lock myself in my room and strip from the riding clothes.

Streams of the shower’s hot water flush my skin, but they don’t erase the ache in my chest. They don’t burn Aaron out of my heart.

The bastard.

If he doesn’t care about me, then why does he keep me? Why would he kiss me so feverishly as if his life depended on it, then push me away right after?

Although I want to be there for him, he keeps building a fortress to chase me out of view. How am I supposed to climb? Why do I even insist on climbing?

You kind of love him, Mae.

I pull at my hair. Pain stabs at my roots, but self-loathing is a lot stronger. God, why him? Why do I have these feelings for him? My persistence doesn’t help. I always go back to his side, reach for him, simply talk to him. Especially since he doesn’t appear to be doing well lately. Sometimes, he zones out, his eyes turn blank, seeming lost somewhere out of this world.