Page 56 of Serpentine
It stings a little, knowing that neither of my parents was ever that way towards me. I grew up in privilege, sure, but I didn’t grow up with love.
It’s likely why I’d misunderstood their tender touches as something more.
I’m a foolish girl.
I try not to wallow in self-pity but can’t help it.
I’m sad and a little heartbroken that the evil men who stole from me are just that.
I still feel like I’ve seen a side of them they didn’t mean to show me. The other side of that coin could be that it’s all fake, though—all a ploy to get me to give them information I never had.
My head is a jumbled mess.
“That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. I don’t trust you. You’ll tell your father what we’re up to. Do you think me a fucking fool?” he shouts, and I wince.
His anger gives the air a vibration that sets my teeth on edge.
“I’m sorry I broke into the files, but I had to know what was happening. If I’d have asked, neither of you would’ve told me,” I admit to him.
He looks me over. Bathed in the red bulbs of the room, he looks like a man deranged. “What will you do afterward, hm? Once this is all over?”
I hang my head, thinking of being without either of them. “I don’t know. We’ll have to figure that out when we get there.”
“We?” he asks softly, anger leaving his tone swiftly.
“We,” I say, voice breaking under the weight of emotion when I look up at him.
He comes in front of me, his crotch lined up with my face before he drops into a crouch before me. “Princess, neither one of us can stand betrayal,” he tells me.
His tone is hard, even though he’s not yelling. It’s a hardness I can’t wiggle away from or ignore.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
The air between us turns static, and I can barely breathe, just as it was in the dressing room when he’d taken my mouth by storm.
“I know. And I know you’re being honest, too. I can feel it,” he admits.
I breathe out a sigh of relief. For some fucking reason, his believing in me is more important than being set free.
“Still doesn’t mean you didn’t fuck up and go against both of us,” he says.
I nod. “I know.”
He looks at my lips longingly. “Do you know why I don’t kiss, princess?”
I lick my lips. “No. Will you tell me?”
Whitney said no one knows why he doesn’t, but it’s a thing amongst the club. One that had put a target on my back once his lips touched mine in front of everyone.
“Because she was my last kiss. Mom. She always kissed us on the lips, not grossly, though in the loving way that a mother kisses her children and sends them off for the day. She would give us each a peck and tell us to behave and have the best day. Then, we’d go off to school until we saw her again at the bus stop afterward. I never knew there was a reality where one of her kisses would be the last one day.”
Fresh tears track down my cheeks, and he registers them. He watches them fall, almost curiously, as if he’s shed none before. As if he doesn’t understand the reasoning behind them.
“I’m so sorry, Miles. To lose a love like that while you were so young, I can’t imagine.”
He nods absently. “She kissed me and sent me to school like any other day. It was the last time her lips would ever touch mine. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone else erasing her kiss. Until you.”
I swallow, body thrumming under his admittance.