Page 64 of Expressionate
When I’m sure Trisha has fallen asleep, I climb off the bed and exit the room, slowly and quietly. I shut the door behindme.
“Love?” I turn around at the rough and tired voice. Tax is there, staring at me. He’s in the same clothes from the night before as well. “How isTrisha?”
“She’s asleep,” I say. Tax looks at me oddly when my words come out cold and emotionless. When I move to walk past him, his hand reaches for my arm. I sidestep him, avoiding the contact. Not because I don’t want him to touch me – I want it more than air. But I don’t deserve it. Yeah, he has pain and darkness, there’s no denying what I see in his gaze. But what’s festering inside of me is darker, grotesque. Maybe Danny is right. Maybe I should go back to where I belong. Maybe I should go back to being the girl I was before. Yes, that sounds better. That sounds safer. Just go back to being who I really am – fake, lifeless, and useless. I can’t be this girl that Tax made me anymore. I don’t want to be. It hurts too fucking much. I need to shove her down deep and lock her away somewhere where no one can ever find her or free her. I’ll kill her if I haveto.
“Where are you going?” he demands, taking that same hand and shoving it in hispocket.
“For a walk,” I reply. “I just need to get away from here.” He continues to look at me as though I’ve sprouted an extra head. I stab my nails into my palms to keep them where they are. I shouldn’t touch him, shouldn’t reach out tohim.
“Love—”
“I can’t,” I interrupt him. I can’t hear him say it. Whatever words that are about to spill out of his mouth. I know that they are going to make me feel better. They are going to be the lifeline to pull me back from this endless abyss I’m about to dive, head-first, into. I don’t want his comfort or his words. I don’t want him to save me. No one saves the whore. “I don’t want you to be here,” I snap. He blinks at me like I’ve slappedhim.
“Love, we—” he beginsagain.
“—were nothing,” I finish, and his irritation rises. “We were fun. This is family, though, and I don’t need you. I don’t need you here, scaring my sister, and trying to take care of people who are none of yourbusiness.”
“None of my business?” he growls. Tax takes a step forward, his eyes darkening, mouth thinning. The edges of his full lips turn down and his jaw locks. Intense blue eyes stare at me. “None of myfuckingbusiness?” Another step forward. I move back. His voice is cold, and I feel like the ice forming between us is more of a wall than a bridge. Something too high to be climbed, too thick to be brokenagain.
“Yes.” For a moment, there’s a flicker in his eyes. I think he sees the little girl inside my head screaming for him to save her. She’s circling in her prison, crying, and begging for him to hear her. I shove her back down into her little hovel. She’s filthy and ragged and she doesn’t deserve to be set free. We deserve to be locked deep. Maybe I’ll call Danny today, and let him have her again. That would make her shut up. Hearing my thoughts, she whimpers in pain. I scowl atTax.
“You.Are. None. Of.My. Business?” Furious rage boils underneath his surface. How can I push him over the edge? Get him to turn around and leave me? God, I don’t want to hurt him. But this has to end. It has to endsomewhere.
“Do you need me to write it down for you?” I ask coolly. “I want you toleave.”
No!She has a voice now, the girl inside my head. Her wants and desires coming to the forefront, but I can’t let her out.Don’t make him leave!She pleads.PLEASE! We need him!I ignore her desperation. Why so desperate now? I wonder. We loved it in the fucking dark. It was filthy and depraved. We could have left sooner, but we didn’t. Wewantedto be in the dark – so that’s where we’ll fucking goagain.
I lift my brow at Tax’s unmovingfigure.
“I think we need to talk first,” he practically snarls at me. There is something feral in him and it gives me pause, but only for a briefsecond.
“I don’t think—” Tax doesn’t wait for me to finish. Instead, he grabs my arm and drags me towards the elevator, growling as I stumble along behind him, my shorter legs attempting to keep up. When we get inside, he punches the button to take us to the lobby, nearly cracking the plastic casing over it in his anger. I jerk my arm away. I need to hurry thisalong.
We travel down to the lobby, me tapping my fingertips against my arm, him gritting his teeth and glaring at me like a betrayed, wild animal. The elevator dings and Tax grabs my arm, once again dragging me behind him. We leave the building, heading into the parking lot. He steers me exactly where I want to be. When we reach my car, he turns on me. Tax shoves me into the door of the car, and I flinch at his savage expression as he crushes himself against me, hovering so close that he blocks out the sun and the hospital building behindhim.
“You don’t think you’re any of my business?” I open my mouth to say no, and he slams his lips over mine. His teeth crash into mine, painful and awkward. I jerk back, but Tax’s palm wraps around the back of my neck squeezing and holding me there. His darkness comes raging out of him, unhinged and ferocious – fighting againstme.
The hardest part is that I don’t want to stop kissing him. Kissing him, even when he’s angry, makes mefeel. I have to fight to struggle against him. He deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue between my lips. He doesn’t let up as I bite down on his lower lip. Hard. No, not Tax. He just pulls away and puts his thumb to the spot right in the center of his lip that is now stained and bleeding. The image he makes – bloody and fierce – tightens my insides. Raging storm-blue eyes flash with violence – it calls me to his depths, but I won’t go. He moves to grab me as I sidestep and shuffle along the car’s side, trying toescape.
My head – clouded with confusion – bumps the car as he leans me back again, pressing my body flush against the metal and glass. His hands are rough against my cold skin. His lips are solid as they return to mine. I taste blood. Tax groans as I shift to try and squeeze around him, unwittingly rubbing against hiscock.
“None of my business, Lovely.” His laughter is hollow of any true amusement as he yanks my head back to run his tongue up the length of my neck. Sparks dance in hiswake.
“Stop,” I grit. He pulls his head back and looks at me with an expression that I can’tdecipher.
“No.”
“No?” Shock squirms through me as his hands, his fingers, explore the length of my stomach making my abdomen quiver. “So what then?” I choke. “Are you going to rape me?” I’ve never been raped before. IletDanny do everything he did. I never saidno.
Tax stares at me in shock and pain, his savagery calming slightly at the blow I’ve just dealt him. I know it would never come to that. His pain is the same as mine, though our darkness stems from different emotions – pain and rage. He wouldn’t break me like that. The mere fact that I suggested he might has left his expression wide open – enraged and hurt. The anger takes over, stuffing the hurt back into a neat littlebox.
“Do you really think that you’d be unwilling, Lovely?” heasks.
“Don’t call me that,” I snap but it has less of a bite to it now as he runs his warm fingers down my leg and over the fabric of my pants, rubbing his fingers between mylegs.
“How much do you want to bet if I put my hand down your panties right now, I’d find you soaking wet?” heasks.
“I hate you,” I snap, renewing my struggles. I push against his chest, slap his cheek, try and kick out with my legs. Tax, though, is a seasoned fighter. He subdues me with little effort, grabbing my chin and tilting me up to look athim.
