Page 130 of Hunger

But as I think back, I don’t even remember falling asleep, and I have no memory of waking up during the night. That’s not usual for me. I’m awake most nights between three and four, either because of that same recurring nightmare, or because I find myself sitting up, breathing fast, my body wracked with insidious unease I can’t fully explain… unless I delve back into things I no longer wish to remember.

The first thing I see as my eyes open is the slim line of her hand, resting against her bare chest. As I shift my weight a little, there’s the faint tremor of a sigh from her and she swallows, goading me with the thought of her throat. My hand wraps around my hard morning wood and I stroke my cock to the sight of her face, her eyes closed, her lips open just a little below freckles dotted across her nose. Her hands are pressed together as if protecting her chest.

Her heart.

And because I’m a fucking savage who this defiant little creature arouses more than she can comprehend, I can’t help but want to lift her leg and slide into her as her morning call.

But I don’t.

Before falling asleep last night, after her fingertips found my arm, allowing her to finally close her eyes, I contemplated what to do.

I feel in every fiber of my being that the more time she spends with a monster like me, the more pain and misery she will experience when she learns what I am.

I can’t do it to her.

She may hate me for a few days. A week.

But if I continue to give in to my endless hunger for her, I know she’ll end up despising me for the rest of her life.

I’ll speak to the DA’s office about her ex and the man he sent the second I get home, which will be later today and tomorrow as I’d once planned. In fact, I will have all three women taken home today for their safety. I will ensure a security team is in place to protect her.

And then… I’ll make sure she’s free of me.

The only thing is… I don’t know how I’ll look her in the eyes when I do it… or if I’ll be able to look at myself in the mirror after it’s done.

29

Greyson

Saturday evening

My hands tremble as I grip the steering wheel, having just left her basement suite which she did not let me into after I explained that she’s safer not seeing me ever again.

I close my eyes, recalling the hurt in her eyes, the confusion, the pain as she took in my words.

“You did the right thing,” says Gideon in the passenger seat next to me. “You’ve spared her pain. We both know where this would have led to.”

“Where?” I ask, knowing the answer but needing to hear it from someone else to stop myself from getting out of this fucking car and running back to her when every cell in my body aches to do nothing but that.

“You’d end up hurting her badly, Grey. We both know that. It’s not your fault. This will hurt her a bit now, but what you’re doing is right.”

I nod, though all I want is to go back, to hold her, to watch her, to listen to her, to be with the woman who has imprinted herself on me.

I think of the letter I left in her hand which I wrote this morning while packing my things to leave the island.

In it, I poured out things I hide, secrets I’ve kept for a long time. I don’t know why the fuck I did it. I don’t know how I can trust someone I’ve known for a few weeks over those I’ve known for years and to whom I’ve never told the full truth.

I don’t expect her not to hate me afterwards, but maybe at least she can understand. Maybe it can help her find some peace. Help her realize that her life will be safer when she is free of me. When she is free of the monster I hide inside me.

* * *

Indigo

I stare at the envelope crumpled in my hand, my back pressed against the inside door of my place.

I can still smell his scent on me, still feel his touch.

I know I wanted that. I know I needed him as much as I need air last night, but now, sitting here without him, I ache all over.