Crushed and at a loss for words, she merely shook her head. “Like it never happened,” her voice trembled and cracked.
Had he erased it from his memory, too?
Feeling the sudden urge to retreat inward, she rose from his lap in one smooth, angry motion. As she moved away from him, his hand on her forearm stopped her and spun her around.
“You’re really never going to forgive me for what I did to you, are you?”
The raw passion on Victor’s face threw her into a tailspin. As usual, she couldn’t tell if this was part of his game or if he was being sincere. She hoped for the latter, but she knew better.
“What I’ll never forgive is myself for allowing you to do the things you did to me.” And was still allowing him to do. Uncomfortable with the heated look in his eyes, she pulled out of his grip.
“I know what I did to you was wrong...”
Her voice was sharp and low when she cut him off. “You say you know it was wrong, but you’ve shown no remorse for your actions and you’ve never once apologized. And at this point, I don’t even want your fucking apology. You have no idea what you did to me or how you made me feel.”
“I do know…” he stared at her with smoldering intensity.
“No you don’t. Not really. It was more than just physical. It was so much more than just that leather across my back. You made me feel less than human, Victor. Less than worthy of basic respect. Less than loveable,” her vision wavered behind unshed tears as she finally lashed out at him. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be made to feel that way by someone you care about? To be callously dismissed after giving them a piece of your soul?”
“Yes.”
***
Victor sat motionless in the chair, hating the despair he saw reflected in Elsa’s eyes.
“You knew and yet, you still did it to me?”
Her voice was nothing more than a broken whisper and it hurt him to see the strongest woman he knew so ravaged by emotion.
He was sorry for his actions. His mother had made him feel the same way time and time again. He hated her and everything she did to him, but she was still his mother and deep down, all he had ever wanted was her approval and love.
As for that Goddamn video, he could only stomach watching it once. It made no difference because he had replayed the brutal scene over and over in his head, trying to think of ways he could’ve done things differently. But there was no going back. What was done was done and erasing the video was the only way he could mentally cope with what he had done to another human being. To his Peach.
Just as Elsa turned to walk out his voice halted her.
“You once asked me if I had ever been so consumed with someone that I would’ve done absolutely anything for them. The answer is yes. Once and only once. I know you think I’m a cruel son-of-a-bitch and I won’t even try to deny it, but I am sorry for what happened. And I am remorseful. But the fact is, you learned a valuable lesson: love is a colossal waste of time and energy. I let my heart and emotions guide my decisions just like you, and all I ended up with was heartbreak. Just like you. I won’t ever, and I mean ever, allow that to happen again and I suggest you do the same.”
He couldn’t face her anymore and turned his chair away, wanting nothing more than to pull himself into a miserable ball of shame at the wounded expression on her face. Before he could escape her gaze, she cut the distance between them with quick, purposeful strides and plopped down into his lap causing a grunt of surprise to choke him. His chair nearly toppled over backwards when she flung her arms around his shoulders and pressed her face against his neck.
She pulled back to whisper against his mouth, “Let it go.”
Her feminine scent and the hurt in her eyes was a devastating combination, and he suddenly felt trapped.
“Get off of me,” he growled and tried to buck her off, but she held on for dear life as if riding a wild bull.
“Let it go, Victor,” she repeated more resolutely than before.
“Goddamn it, let go of me!” he hissed, pushing her body away from his.
With a mixture of tenderness and lethal determination, she latched on tighter and got in his face. “I won’t, you stubborn asshole!” she shook him by the shoulders. “Love isn’t a waste of time, it just hurts like a motherfucker! We’ve all been hurt, but that doesn’t give us the right to crush people’s hearts in return!” When he persisted in pushing her away, she jumped off his lap and darted toward the door, but not before turning to face him one last time. “And you can tell Mr. Black to go straight to hell!”
With his breathing ragged and his heart pounding against his ribcage, he stewed on her statement. She had a set of balls bigger than his own. And the nerve to call him stubborn?
He lost track of time as he stared out the window at the stark white landscape, thinking about what Elsa had just said to him. It had been a miserable week; long, tedious and, ultimately, fruitless and now the weekend was starting off just as shitty.
Sinking back into his chair, he pulled out his work file to get his mind off of her. It was ironic considering he was usually doing the opposite.
An hour later, he pushed the file aside. Whatever the connection the killer had to Anthony, they had covered their tracks well. But the devil was in the details and he just needed to look more closely.
Tired of looking at the same bullshit he had been going over all week, he grabbed his personal journal.
Elsa. The name that will ultimately be my doom. I’ve become beyond obsessed with trying to break her down and figure her out. Why does she insist that I abandon the pretenses that have protected me for so long and show my true self? Why do I cave and give in to her wants?
His eyes flicked back to the monitor and at Elsa’s dutiful pose, then back to his writing.
My infuriating lover truly has no idea how beautiful she is or what she does to me. The devil is in the details and her feminine and submissive façade hides her killer instincts well. How the hell can the woman who follows my rules so flawlessly be the same one who has the audaciousness to tell Mr. Black to go to hell? Perhaps an alter ego name for her would be in order. Ms. White seems appropriate considering her light is so Goddamn bright it’s blinding.
Bright or not, my darkness always seems to outweigh her light, while in contrast, her compassion and obstinacy never fails to prevail over my austerity and detachment. It’s an odd balancing act between the two of us; one that threatens to seesaw out of control at any moment.
Will she never just do as she’s told? Abso-fucking-lutely not. It isn’t in her nature and it’s about damn time I accept that Elsa is never going to be anything but true to herself, no matter what rules I stipulate and threaten her with.
And so long as Mr. Black is in the picture, we will never be at peace with one another.
As much as I need that part of my personality, I often want to tell him to go to hell, too. Christ, I wish it was that easy.
A soft knock on the door brought him out of his misery.
“Enter,” he said loudly as he straightened up and put his journal into his bag.
Peeking around the door, Elsa had a look of repentance mingled with resentment in her eyes. “I’m sorry about what I said and for forcing myself on you, Mr. Black. Am I free to leave?”
“You just got here.”
“I know, but I have things to do.”
Her sudden coldness surprised and irked him. “Things to do or someone to do?”
When she glanced over her shoulder nervously, he stood and gave her a pointed look. "Tell me something: when you leave here, do you go home and make love to him?"