Home > Fable of Happiness : Book Two (Fable #2)(77)

Fable of Happiness : Book Two (Fable #2)(77)
Author: Pepper Winters

What if everything we’d shared, every connection we’d formed was gone for good?

Just like that.

God.

I hid my anguish with a curt and brittle voice. “I’m doing my best not to use the truth to hurt you.”

“What truth?” His eyes flashed with fear as well as fury.

“The truth that everything changed last night. All of it.”

“I don’t understand.” His eyes narrowed, unable to hide the thorny discomfort building in him. He gave the impression he was all brawn and brutality, but what would it be like to be told events happened, only to have no memory of them? To have holes in the very fabric of your mind—so many, many holes.

I wanted to scream at him. To lay out every second of yesterday—the good and the bad—and force him to accept reality. To accept...me. To accept us.

But if I did, that would be for my benefit, not his.

It wouldn’t ease his pain.

It wouldn’t help his concussion or his sickness.

If he truly didn’t remember, hearing the truth would be horribly unsettling.

Once again, he’d found a way to strip me of all my power, leaving me lost on what to do.

“Are you going to tell me, Gemma?” he snapped. “Can’t dangle something like that and not follow through. Spit it out.”

“The truth, Kas? You want me to give you the truth?”

“Of course the damn truth.”

His harshness wasn’t him. I’d seen behind it. I knew who he was now, deep inside.

I looked at the carpet where he’d taken me by force. Where I’d screamed at him. Hit him. Begged him. All while he’d rutted into me with deranged ferocity. I looked at the wall where I’d willingly straddled him, sank on him, and hugged him as he’d broken.

And I gave him the truth...sugar-coated just a little. “We slept together right there on the carpet.” I winced. “Actually, it wasn’t sleeping together at that point. You took me by force, but it wasn’t your fault. I think...” My eyes tracked to the strewn rabbit again.

Oh, God.

The meat.

That was his trigger.

“I made you dinner.” I stepped toward him, ready to fight his blankness with facts. “You caught a rabbit yesterday. You commanded I gut and cook it. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I hated every second of it, but I did it...because you were right. You’d fed me every day for a week and it was my turn to ensure you were adequately cared for. I think the smell of the cooked meat triggered a memory. You were dreaming of being burned. Of a man named Levin. Of being molested—”

“Enough.” He held up his hand. “I’ve heard enough.”

“No. You haven’t. You need to remember.”

Please, remember.

“I tried to wake you, but you pulled me down and took me on the carpet. I tried to stop you, but you were unreachable.” My voice cracked as tears threatened, reliving that overwhelming sense of helplessness. “But you woke eventually. You woke, and God, you were so full of regret.” I moved another step toward him. “You were...wild with it. You couldn’t forgive yourself, so...” I reached out and touched his unbroken arm. “I forgave you instead. I initiated sex between us, and we slept together, right there, against the wall.”

He ripped his arm away. “Stop.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if his headache crushed him. “I can’t—”

“You found me a few hours later. The reason you woke in damp clothes was you poured me a bath. You washed me clean and gave me a release, and I pulled you into the bath with me.” I touched his elbow, doing my best not to flinch when he stumbled backward. “I wanted you, Kas. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you. I confessed things to you about my brother. You told me things about your family. None of it was planned but—”

“It wasn’t planned because it didn’t happen,” he snarled. “You honestly think I could fuck you, twice, according to you, and not have a single memory of it? I remember everything! Every fucking rape and every shitty beating. Just because I choose to keep them buried doesn’t mean I’m not aware.” He stabbed a trembling finger in my face. “You’re lying because if any of what you said was true, I would know. I would hoard that memory instead of swallow it. I would live in that memory. I would replay it over and over again. If I had you, willingly had you, I would fall to my knees and never, ever let you go. Do you hear what I’m saying?” He stepped into me, casting me in shadow and trembling confusion. “I’m saying that if you gave me yourself last night and I took you—” He wiped his mouth with a shaky hand. “If I had you and forgot you? Jesus Christ.” He looked at the ceiling before shrugging helplessly. “I can’t handle that. I can’t fucking cope with that.”

Rage filtered through his voice, filling with sharp smoke. “So I’ll tell you again. What you’re saying is a lie. It has to be a lie. It has to be because if it’s not, then I might as well carve out my fucking heart and be finished with it because I’m done. Do you hear me? I’m done with this shit. I’m done wanting you, craving you. I’m done with time-skipping and my head throbbing and the damn world never standing still.”

He raked both hands through his hair, backing up as if my presence set fire to him. Molten anger flowed in his stare as he bared his teeth. “I have nothing in my head. Nothing about last night. Nothing but my past that doesn’t give me a goddamn break. Why can I remember that, huh? And not have a shred of recollection about what you say happened?”

He didn’t wait for me to reply. He wasn’t asking me. He was asking himself. Asking the prison inside him that would never let him free.

“I’ll tell you why.” He shook harder, looking as if he’d break apart. “I don’t have any memory because it doesn’t exist because it didn’t fucking happen!” His voice slipped into a harrowed breath. “It just...can’t.”

Something cracked inside me.

Something fragile and new and far too delicate to be pulverized so early in the morning.

I wanted so much to go wrap my arms around him, but my instincts prickled that I wasn’t safe. He walked the edge of sane and insane. One push in the wrong direction, and I would pay. “It’s okay, Kas. You can choose to trust me, even if you can’t remember right now. Trust what I’m saying is real and—”

“Stop.” Drawing himself up to his full height, his hands balled and eyes etched with anger. Behind his anger lurked emotional carnage. A sacking of his soul as he howled for help, all while incapable of asking for it. “I-I’ve heard enough. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He shook his head. “Even if what you said was real, how do you expect me to believe that you willingly wanted me?” He paced in front of me, wobbling a little as he turned. “It’s a trick. It has to be.”

“There is no trick.” I kept my voice low, forcing myself not to meet his temper. “Everything I just said was true. Everything we did affected me. It affected you too. And that’s why you can’t accept it. Give your mind a chance to replace what you’ve forgotten. Deep down inside yourself, you know what I’m saying is real. That you feel something for me. That you’re afraid because things are changing between us. They’ve already changed—”

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