Shards of Us (10 page)

Chapter
Eleven

Sebastian comes down to the basement first thing in the morning. I slept surprisingly well last night in the warm blanket and sheets he left out for me, and as much as I hate him for locking me up in here like this, I can't help but understand his reasons. He just wants to protect me. He just wants to save me.

He's like me in that way: at
the end of it all, he doesn't want to lose anyone else.

While I sleep, I
feel my thoughts drifting off, thinking about what Sebastian told me he was: a hitman. He kills for a living. He fucking
murders
people every single day. It hurts, to imagine that my Sebastian, that the man I'm falling for has blood on his hands--literally and figuratively. It hurts to imagine that he has such a big heart when it comes to me, but such a small one when it comes to his victims, or whoever it is he kills. I want to ask him about it. I want to know who he killed for this cartel that's after us, and why they made him kill the people. I need all of the gory details if I'm going to get over it. I trust Sebastian despite myself, and I know, deep down, that he wasn't lying when he said he hated himself for what he did--and that he didn't have a choice.

Sebastian
is a good man, I tell myself.

I don't think it's a lie.

Next, I find myself wondering about the scar on his cheek, the one he refuses to tell me about, and I think about why he doesn't want to talk about why Marco and the rest of the cartel are after him.

I close my eyes. He's hiding things from me, still. Even after everything, he still doesn't trust me. And I don't know why, but I want him to. So, so badly. 

I'm still caught up in the thought when Sebastian comes down. There's a click at the top of the stairs, the creak of a door being opened, and then the sound of footsteps heading toward the bottom floor. I watch as Sebastian's silhouette comes into view, lean and muscular, walking slowly toward me. The room is still dark as he makes his way over to me. When he reaches me, he stops, and I can see the familiar flash of blue in his eyes as he stares at me, focusing on my arm. Then, he reaches out and touches my hand, trailing his finger along it slowly, calmly, sending an array of shivers through me. I watch with fascination as his dark fingers touch my pale skin, and I keep my gaze locked on his even though he isn't looking back, listen to the pounding in my heart and the ache in my body as he slowly lifts up my arm and then, before I know what's happening, touches his lips to my bicep. He kisses me gently at first, like kissing me is an art and he has mastered it. He moves his lips along my arm, his kiss all hot and fiery, and I just stand there, unable to move or breathe as he seemingly brings life to my skin. Tingles shoot through me, and the familiar need for him to kiss me elsewhere returns. His lips have that effect on me; they wipe everything else away. Sebastian's kiss is dangerous but so, so right.

"I need to bring you upstairs, angel,"
Sebastian says roughly, pulling back away from my arm. His gaze is fixated on my breast for a little too long, like he's hesitating, wishing he could kiss me there.

I open my mouth to say something, but his hand is already around mine and I feel myself getting pulled up to my feet.
Sebastian leads me across the basement and up the stairs before we can do anything more. As soon as we step through the door and into the kitchen, the light from the house blinds me, and I have to cover my eyes with my hands as Sebastian brings me over to the nearest table.

I can see
Sebastian clearly now, though. He's wearing a new, clean suit and black bowtie as he always is--I have no idea where he gets them--and his dark hair is wet and wild. His tan looks even sharper today, standing out among those deep, clear blue eyes of his, and for the billionth time, I'm struck by how incredibly good-looking he is.

"What is your plan?" I ask
Sebastian as he makes his way over to the stove, but he ignores my question. Instead, he pulls out a plate and flips over the pan so that the eggs he has been cooking slips onto it, and then he adds bits of pepper, sprinkles some shredded cheese on the top, and slides the plate over to me.

"Here's your breakfast
," he says. I have to admit, it smells delicious. I grab a fork and start eating right away.

Sebastian
sits on the chair beside me, but he doesn't eat anything. I ignore him at first, trying to hate him for what he did to me. His eyes are locked on the open window in front of us, with that distant glaze to them, like he's back as a teenager, growing up under Jodie's care. He's had a traumatic life, I realize, and not once does he complain. He keeps it in, like a festering wound, and all I want to do is make it better.

After a few minutes,
Sebastian turns to me. His eyes are hard and serious, his mouth a flat line. "Do you miss how things were?" he asks after a minute, his voice cool, but also a little wistful. "Do you miss before?"

I put my fork down. "Before?"

"Yes." His stare is unflinching. "When it was just the two of us in Hotel de Galaxias."

I think for a moment, staring at his scruff, then the faded dimples
on the corners of his mouth, and I sigh. "Yes," I admit. "Sometimes I miss it."

Sebastian
doesn't say anything for a minute. He just keeps watching me, as if he's testing me. "Do you resent me?" he says quietly. "Do you resent me for what I did? For what I… for what I did to you and, for what I did a living?" His voice is as easygoing as it was before, but there's a certain intensity to it, like his question is deeper than just that.

I hesitate. What am I supposed to say? I want to hate him
, I really do. In fact, I
wish
I could hate him. But I can't deny what he means to me, and as I feel his gaze on my body, I decide just to tell the truth. "No," I say, pushing aside my food. "I don't resent you."

Sebastian
raises an eyebrow, seemingly surprised for a second, but it's gone almost immediately. Then he nods. "Good," he says, more to himself than me.

I lean forward, looking into his deep, tortured eyes. Curiosity trickles in. "Just good?" I ask.

Sebastian continues to stare at me. "I told you, I'm a bad man. I'm going to do something to make you resent me sooner or later, no matter how hard I try. It's just who I am. What I am. So I'm trying to come to terms with it. I don't want to lose you, angel," he says, his voice growing more intense. "I don't want to lose anyone else."

"You won't lose me,
Sebastian. You won't ever."

"You don't understand," he growls.

I keep my gaze on him. "Then make me understand, Sebastian," I say quietly.

He shakes his head. "It will only hurt you, angel. And I don't want you to be hurt."

I move my chair closer to him. "Then at least tell me about the jobs you did. I want to know. I deserve to know."

Sebastian
's eyes burn into mine. Shivers race through me as he leans in closer to me, his lips and shaven jaw and haunting blue eyes lingering in front of my face. "Tell me something about yourself first," he whispers. "Tell me the things we promised never to tell."

My heart starts racing. "You mean, break rule number two?"
Sebastian is not one for breaking rules, that much I know.

His jaw clenches. "Yes. I want to know you, angel. I want to know the real you. And I want to know all of you." His voice is rough as he leans over me, breathing onto my lips, and
whispers, "You're my captive, don't forget that. I want to make you mine, and I can't have you unless you tell me who you are."

I perk up. "You mean, you aren't afraid of
… ruining me by loving me anymore?"

I feel the thin fibers of his suit brushing against my skin as he brings his lips back onto my neck, kissing me slowly. "Angel, I'm not going to corrupt you. I'm going to own you, to love you, to save you from those men. I'm going to keep you my prisoner. But when the time comes, when things are safe, I'm going to let you go, and you'll leave
my life like everyone else has. And you'll live your life like it never happened. Okay? If I thought loving you would hurt you, I wouldn't let myself do it. I need you. I need you to be safe. But I want you too bad to keep from having you." His eyes are so intense, his jaw getting tighter by the second. He trails his kisses down my neck, lingering at my collarbone, teasing me as he inches down lower, and a moan escapes from my lips. "Are you ready to be mine?"

I hesitate for a second and try to think, but it proves difficult as
Sebastian continues to kiss me along the neck, reaching out a hand and slipping his fingers under my shirt, where they circle around by my bra, slow and teasing. Every part of my mind wants to say no to Sebastian, wants to tell him that keeping me prisoner like this makes him the epitome of an asshole and, not to mention, that it's illegal, but my heart, or at least what is left of my heart, the ones longing to let someone else in, someone to heal the pain, screams yes. I try to stop myself from answering at all, but my heart wins this round. The word just slips out of my mouth: "Yes."

Yes.

It's hollow, reverberating throughout the walls, but it feels so, so right.

Yes, I want to be yours.

Sebastian smiles, a fleeting, beautiful kind smile, exposing his perfect white teeth. "Good, angel. Now tell me about you. The real you. I want to know." He stops kissing me for a second and lifts me slowly into his lap, resting his head on my shoulders, and then he moves his lips back across my body, tickling his lips and tongue at my ear, then along my collarbone. He stops at the space above my breast, kissing me slowly around it, sending tremors throughout my body. His lips are warm against my skin, so warm and sexy and perfect. I am acutely aware of the familiar hardness from his erection pressing against my body, and it makes my heart race faster. My skin tingles.

"Okay," I say quietly
, barely able to escape the tingles rippling through me long enough to speak. "What do you want to know?"

Sebastian
slips his hand deeper into my bra, kissing around it. I feel his fingers working to undo it, feel the warmth in his mouth as he draws closer and closer toward me. My nipples harden, and I want him to suck them so badly I can't even explain. "I want to know everything, angel."

I take a breath. It occurs to me then that my life has not really been all that interesting. It's like I've been consumed by own loneliness, like
I haven't ever really lived. So I start with the basics: the one time I ever actually felt alive. "I always loved to dance," I say, and Sebastian pauses kissing me, looking up and watching me with those deep and mysterious blue eyes of his. "Ever since I was kid, it was my life. It was more than just a passion, though. It was something I ate, slept, breathed. Dance and I were inseparable in a way nothing else could be. My parents… they never understood it. They were always out of town--sports agents, go figure--but they still supported me. They still loved me when they were at home, and so I was okay. Through my teen years I stayed home alone when my parents went on tons of business trips to places across the country or the globe, usually for days at a time, and I'd just go to school, make myself dinner, and whenever I had free time, I'd spend it dancing. It was nice, to dance like that. Never perfect, but nice. Especially on those days my parents came home, and they talked to me and we played board games or whatever and just… were a real family, you know? I liked when things were simple. I went to college and dropped out after two years and even though they didn't like it, they still supported me on that too. I don't know why I dropped out, if you're wondering," I add. Sebastian's breath is on my lips now. He keeps inching forward, looking at my lips with such hunger. Each time I inhale I can imagine myself kissing him again, letting him inside of me. I need him. I need him bad. "I just wasn't happy, I guess. So I left. Anyway, I never really had any friends. Dance was my only real friend, and so I let it be that way. And that was all okay, even though I was a little depressed, because at least I had my parents in my life. But then they were… killed." I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory, feeling the familiar hurt trickle in. "And everything changed."

I go on telling him the rest of my tale of woe, filling in some of the details he already
knows. I talk about how there was a robbery and my parents were killed, how the depression came in soon after and I attempted to end it all, even though it only resulted in me breaking my leg and losing my one true love forever. I talk about how lonely I've been these last few years, how, when I jumped off of that roof, not only my leg shattered, but my heart did as well, and it has yet to recover. I talk about how my soul was still broken until I met him, how he's the one putting the pieces of myself back together. And weirdly enough, it feels good to talk it all out. It feels good to be free again--free from the lies. "So that's it," I say quietly as soon as I've told my story. "That's me."

Sebastian
doesn't respond for a long time. He keeps tracing his finger around my breasts, making my nipples harder and harder by the second, causing the familiar ache to build up deep inside of me. I want him more and more with each passing second. I want his perfectly dark sex hair, his gorgeous dimples, his tanned muscular body, and his deep blue eyes. I want his dark suits and his gentle kisses. I want the way he makes me feel. I'm Sebastian's captive, and yet, I find myself wanting him. All of him.