A Vow Of Hate

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back the tears. “I don’t know how.”

“Guilt is toxic, Julianna,” he said. “As long as you carry that burden, you will continue to relive the past over and over again. You’ll never be able to forgive yourself then. We’re humans and we’re severely flawed. You and Gracelynn innocently sneaked out that night. Like most young adults do. So, forgive yourself because you can’t see the future. You didn’t know this accident would have happened.”

I fell silent, considering his words. Tears flooded down my cheeks and I sniffled, quietly. Killian could probably hear me since I was doing such a bad job at being quiet, but he allowed me to have this moment.

Everything he said made sense, but there was an ache burrowed deep inside my chest. I didn’t know if I’d ever be rid of it. I might forgive myself one day, but I would never be able to forget the look of death on my sister’s bloodied and mangled face.

I had lost three years, tormenting myself. Atoning for a sin that wasn’t mine.

Self-destructing because I thought I deserved it. Because I thought it was all my fault.

But I wasn’t Gracelynn’s killer.

And once that realization dawned to me, it was like a whole burden had been lifted off my chest. My shoulders slumped and I felt… weightless.

Killian and I sat like this for a long time, finding comfort in the silence. And in each other’s arms. I half-expected him to initiate sex, but when he didn’t, I found myself surprisingly relieved. Because I wanted more than just something physical.

Atleast for tonight.

I wanted tenderness and intimacy.

“Do you still hate me?” I whispered, when I started to fall asleep. I blinked hard once then twice, forcing myself to say awake so I could hear his answer.

His fingers stroking down my bare arm paused. “Just like pain is subjective… hate is all grey areas, no black-and-white certainties.” His hand brushed over my breasts, cupping one heavy mound, before pinching my nipple. Hard.

“I hate you but I crave you. I hate you but I need you.” As if to prove his words, he bucked his hips up, his hardness digging into the curve of my ass. “Hate is too simple a word to describe what we have, what I feel for you. It’s not hatred, Princess. It’s so much more. It’s chaos,” he rasped in my ear.

Julianna

One month later

My phone rang, rousing me from my dead sleep. I picked up the call without looking at the screen, already knowing who it was. “Good morning, Mirai. Isn’t it too early?” I greeted her, groggily.

“Too early?” she scoffed. “It’s almost noon, Julianna.”

My eyes snapped open and I sat up on the bed, startled. I looked at the digital clock on the nightstand, gaping. Mirai was right; it was almost noon. How did I sleep through the morning without even rousing once? I didn’t even remember waking up when Killian left the bed.

My husband had a habit of waking up, an hour before the sunrise. His routine was going for a quick run while it was still dark outside and then coming back to his home gym and doing a thirty-minute intensive workout.

Then it was shower and breakfast, before he sat down for work.

While I hadn’t left the Spencer Manor since we got here, Killian found a few ways to entertain me. We had all our meals together and we were very active, when it came to sex. This relationship most definitely didn’t lack physical intimacy.

During the day, I chatted with Mirai over the phone and then I would browse through my kindle, looking for my next read.

Some days, I’d find myself in the kitchen, trying a new recipe. But I didn’t enjoy baking as much as I enjoyed horseback riding.

Spencer Manor was cold and boring. The staff was welcoming and pleasant, but they kept their distance. It was a solid boss and employee relationship, nothing more than that.

I missed the island. Mirai and Emily. Ragna and Cerberus.

But it was safer here, at the Spencer Manor. We were surrounded twenty-four-seven by security and I knew Killian was doing his best to keep me protected. And it was a duty he took very seriously.

Even though he was good at hiding his feelings, always wearing that cold mask – I could tell he was stressed and frustrated.

So far, all of their investigations had led to dead ends. That made the situation even more dangerous, because we were completely blind when it came to whoever was the culprit. We had no idea who was behind the accident and who was still hunting me, three years later.

“Julianna?” Mirai said, her chirpy voice breaking through my thoughts.

“Hmm. Yes, I’m listening.”

“Remember the unopened letters we found? From Elias?” she asked.

Right, those. After putting Arabella’s letters and poems back into her drawers, I decided against opening the letters from Elias. The past should be kept in the past, where it belonged.