“Where ever you go, Elsa, I’ll always find you. I’ll always long for you. Nothing will ever change that.”
Emotions so devastating made her wail like she had never done before. Unable to stop herself, she crawled toward him, wanting to be within his arms. She felt as if she had just orgasmed even though there had been no sex. She was scared. Elated. Angry. Excited. Panicked. Every emotion that was feasibly possible was coursing through her veins and flooding her brain. The sound of her own voice drowned out the music.
Victor stood, bent down, unshackled her and picked her up off the floor. Gently, he carried her to the bedroom and covered her with a comforter as he rocked her. Helpless to do anything, she curled into a ball, mortified at her own actions.
***
Victor had witnessed sub drop before, but never to such a powerful degree. He was feeling the emotional affects of their scene as well and his body began to shake from the adrenaline rush. His cock was still rock hard from not having being allowed his own release, but Elsa was his first concern.
Her raspy breaths and strained cries drove him to hold her tighter. Still shaky with desire, he whispered things into her ear to soothe her. How beautiful she was. How much he cherished her tears. How bright her light was. How he couldn’t imagine what it would be like without her. All of it truth. All of it frightening to admit.
She was like warm, pliant clay, her body damp with perspiration, her arms limply draped across her chest. He trailed kisses along the side of her neck and stared down at her as she lay next to him, seemingly incapable of movement. Slowly her tears subsided and her eyes fluttered closed but quickly flew back open, a look of sheer panic flashing in her blood-shot and puffy eyes.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her.
“I feel terrible,” she feebly whispered.
“What you’re feeling is normal,” he smiled down at her, trying to ease her despondency.
“It doesn’t feel normal. It feels like…” she swallowed noisily and looked past him.
“Like what?” he probed.
In typical Elsa fashion, she changed the subject to avoid his question. “Why did you point Nathan in my direction?”
He hesitated, but Nathan was out of the picture so he decided there was no point in trying to lie about his intentions any longer. “I didn’t want you to be alone. Now answer my question. It feels like what?”
“Like I did when you left me before.”
Victor’s mouth twitched with agitation and shock. He hadn’t left her. She had left him.
“You didn’t want me to be alone, but I was. After I left that day, you were still there. I could feel you all around me. I’d see your eyes on me when you didn’t think I could see you. I’d smell your cologne when you got too close. You were better at hiding than before, but I knew you were still there, watching my every move and in some twisted way, I was comforted by that. In my head, it was because you cared. But then… then you just disappeared. You were gone without any warning. You didn’t even wean me off of you; you just left, and I was alone, Victor.” The tears began to build up again. “Was Chapter Nine better than me?” she hugged herself and stared into his eyes.
He reached for her hand and brushed his lips against the delicate skin of her inner wrist. “I came back for you, didn’t I?”
She glanced up from beneath her tear-covered lashes. “Why did you come back?”
He reached for her phone lying on the nightstand and cued the song My Heart is Open by Maroon 5 before answering her. With her hand back in his, he pressed his mouth to her wrist again. As he searched for the words to say, he felt the rapid beat of her heartbeat against his lips. He knew by answering her honestly, he was giving away too much and too fast, but looking at her was like seeing a reflections of how he felt – fatigued, betrayed and confused by the turn of events in the game.
“Because there is no one better than you; because I wanted one more chance to be with you before you gave your heart away forever; before I lost you completely.”
23: Reality Check
No matter what Elsa had tried to convince herself of, she had never gotten over Victor. He was saying all the right things and she couldn’t stop thinking here was their second chance. It was most likely just another trick of light, but the light was so beautiful, even if it wasn’t real.
“Don’t you feel the least bit sorry for what we’ve done to Nathan?” she stared up at him as he dried the tears from her cheeks.
His faint, roguish smile gave way to shock. “Sorry? He spent a year with you. For the twelve months that you were with him, he got to hold you, see your smile, feel your body against his, your mouth on him, your eyes focused on him… Sorry? I don’t feel the least bit anything for him except envious.”
As she lay in his arms, his bright eyes dulled under her concentrated gaze.
"This whole situation is so fucked up. This game. This thing between us. It’s exhausting. God, I’m just so sick of it and tired of hating Mr. Black one minute to wanting a future with you the next. A future I know will never happen.”
Silence. Painful and agonizing. She could see Victor drifting away and Mr. Black resurfacing. Perhaps it had been his admission from just a moment ago or her words…
"Go ahead and let that side of yourself take control, Victor. I can see that you want to, so go ahead and let Mr. Black erase that beautiful, vulnerable expression off your face and replace it with one of indifference."
"Anthony Bruce is my father.”
The spontaneous words that spilled out of his mouth came so effortlessly, all she could do was sit in stunned silence, blinking rapidly, her mouth hanging open.
Lines of worry collected near the corners of his mouth. Quieter, his voice lowered to a mere whisper. "Here’s a reality check, Elsa: half of what created me, my own flesh and blood, is a serial killer. The other half was an abusive, neglectful drunk.”
***
Victor’s gut stirred with disgust and shame. He had never told anyone about his connection to Bruce. Not even Anthony knew.
"Why me?" her eyes glittered with bewilderment.
“Because if anyone deserves to know, it's you."
She shook her head as if unable to grasp what he had just confessed to her. "But why now?"
There was no way to tell her the truth without scaring the hell out of her. Jesus, the truth scared the hell out of him. "You once told me you loved me. Now that you know the ugly truth of my ancestry, do you still fantasize about a future with me? With a man who's capable of what my father has done? To have children with a man who has murder in his bloodline?"
"But you're not your father or your mother. I don’t care what you try and convince me of, I know you aren't capable of those things," she rose up to face him fully.
His expression darkened and his eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that? Really sure? Because I’m not. You want proof? Then read the rest of my journal.”
Elsa’s eyes widened. “You could never do the things Anthony has. You would never… murder. Not when you’ve dedicated your life to bringing those kinds of people to justice. Why can’t you see that?”
Once she quieted down, her introspection turned into something else. Loathing? Fear that he might make her repay him for his confession?
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head; this bit of information is free,” he waved his hand in her direction.
"I’m not afraid of you. And what you’ve told me doesn't change how I feel about you."