Lib Novel Page 41
“Abby…” I sighed. Her footsteps were soft behind me, persistent and impossible to ignore. “I told you you don’t want to know.”
“Eventually, you’ll have to let me in—you know that, right?” she said. “If we’re going to get married, you’re stuck with me.”
Her mention of marriage struck a chord deep within me, a mix of longing and terror. It was true, wasn’t it? If I wanted her in my life, I couldn’t keep her out forever. Not even from the darkness that lurked in my family’s history.
I turned back to face her, the shadows of the room playing across her features. In her eyes, I saw not only the demand for truth but also the promise of acceptance. And for a moment, I wavered, on the brink of letting her into a past I’d fought hard to overcome.
But that waver, that moment of vulnerability—it set something off within me. The barrier I’d built around my past had been a shield, a line not to be crossed.
“Stuck with you?” The words erupted from my throat, harsh and cold as the legacy I carried. “Remember…you’re my pet, trapped here with me—“
My hands moved before my mind could register the action, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her toward me. My lips crashed onto hers in a kiss that wasn’t about love or desire; it was a desperate, brutal attempt to silence the questions, to regain control.
Abby stiffened against me, her surprise swallowed by the force of my kiss. But she wasn’t one to be overpowered or intimidated. She shoved me hard and I stumbled back, the taste of her still on my lips, a mix of sweetness and rebuke.
“Nathan, stop!” Her voice broke through the haze of my anger, sharp and clear. “You can’t just solve every problem with sex.”
She stood there, chest heaving, a flush creeping up her neck. And in that instant, I saw myself reflected in her eyes: a man teetering on the edge of becoming the monster I had always feared. I saw it—the flicker of fear in her gaze—and my heart constricted.
It was a brutal mirror of who I had become, and I recoiled from it as if scorched.
I was turning into my father. Turning into a man who brutalized his loved ones, who ruled over his family as a tyrant. He’d sculpted me into a killer, and I was falling right into the mould.
“Abby, I…” The words trailed off, choked by the realization of what I’d nearly done. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head as if to dispel the haunting image of my father’s lessons, the ones that taught me to use force as persuasion, violence as control.
I felt her presence before she spoke again, the heat of her body an accusing warmth against the coldness inside me.
“Sorry,” I muttered, the word unfamiliar and bitter on my tongue. Sorry for the kiss, sorry for the fear, sorry for the man I couldn’t escape being. But there it was, hanging between us—a sliver of contrition in a life defined by power plays and hardened edges.
Abby’s hand, tentative yet firm, found its way to my arm. “Nathan, look at me.”
I did, reluctantly, meeting her eyes. They were softer now, the fear replaced with something akin to understanding—though I didn’t deserve it.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, a lie so sweet I almost believed it. “You don’t have to talk about it. Not if you can’t.”
Her voice held a weight, a silent acknowledgment of the battles we both faced. I couldn’t speak, my breath caught in my throat.
“Tea?” she asked, as though normalcy could be summoned with a simple offering.
“Tea,” I echoed, a nod more of surrender than agreement.
With a hollow nod, I turned away, seeking refuge in the living room. The couch embraced me with its familiar contours as I sank into it, my mind racing through the night’s events. Justin’s reckless courage flashed before my eyes—his defiance against a man who knew no bounds when it came to inflicting pain. Derek, too, might have been caught in the crossfire.
“Damn it, Justin,” I murmured to the silence of the room.
A surge of anger washed over me at his naivety, at his willingness to stand in the line of fire. Had I made them too safe? Wrapped them in a cocoon woven from my own sacrifices and scars, leaving them exposed when it mattered most?
I pressed my palms into my eyes, willing away the images that clawed up from the darkness. But there was no reprieve. Ba’s voice, venomous and vile, echoed in my skull, a relentless tide of cruelty as memories flashed through my mind.
Countless women bruised and assaulted…under instruction from my father.
“Power, Nathan. It’s about power,” he would hiss, his words etching themselves into my being. He taught me that pain could be pleasure, that fear was a tool—a means to break spirits and bodies alike. To him, intimacy was nothing more than a weapon, a way to degrade, to reduce another person to dirt beneath your feet.
A shudder ran through me, the ghost of those lessons still lingering in my veins. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, as if I could somehow tear the memories from my flesh. But they were a part of me, inseparable and insidious.
“Sex is power,” Ba said, his voice a whisper from the past that filled the room, “use it to control, to dominate.”
I flinched, the word ‘control’ reverberating through me. It was what I had tried to do to Abby, wasn’t it? In a moment of panic and anger, I had reverted to that twisted mentality. Control, dominate, possess. But she wasn’t an object to be claimed; she was a force in her own right, challenging the darkness I thought was my sole inheritance.