“Tell me, Maxime. I deserve the truth.” It’s the least he can give me for stealing my life.
He mounts one step, two, putting our bodies flush. “Have you learned nothing, tonight?”
“That I’m supposed to trust you blindly?” I bite out, craning my neck to look up at him.
He grips the tangled mess of hair at the back of my head, but it’s not an angry move. It’s tender. “There are things I can’t tell you. I can’t always explain my actions. If you don’t give me reason to do otherwise, I will always act in your best interest.” His steely gaze pierces mine. “That’s why you have to trust me. Always. No matter what.”
I blink up at him, letting the information sink in, pondering a different question that has been haunting me all night. “Why didn’t you give me to Alexis?”
He releases me. “We’ve been through this.”
He’s not giving me anything, nothing to piece the puzzle together, only the bit about trusting him without question. My life is spiraling out of control, and I feel lost. I don’t have the facts to gather my ammunition and shield myself from the mind games he’s playing. I’m at a disadvantage in our war, and I’m afraid I’m losing my grip.
Reading my expression correctly, he asks, “What are you so scared of, Zoe?”
I give him the truth. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
He trails his gaze over me, taking me in from my bare feet to my clean-scrubbed face. His words are soft-spoken, a complete contrast to earlier tonight. “When I look at you, I don’t see a whore.”
Tears spring to my eyes. No matter how he looks at me, I can never wipe those stains on my soul away. I am what he made me, and suddenly the truth I’ve been avoiding all night hits me squarely in the chest. I want to believe him. Badly. I want to believe that I’m somehow something more, but it’s just my psyche’s way of trying to protect itself.
Cupping my cheek, he draws a thumb over my jaw. “How you look at yourself is entirely up to you.” Then he moves me aside and climbs past me up the stairs.
I’m drowning in helplessness, torn between wanting to grab the lie he offers between both hands and clinging to the last shreds of truth in my soul. I’m weak, so damn weak, because I don’t want to end up like that woman—fuck, I don’t even know her name, like she’s no one—and I hate myself for it.
“Maxime.”
He stops again.
“Please let me go outside,” I say. “I need some air.”
He hesitates.
“I’m not going anywhere.” My hand trembles on the balustrade. “You’ve made that clear.”
Keeping his back turned to me, he nods once before continuing his ascend.
When the bedroom door slams upstairs, I go through the kitchen to the backdoor. A guard stands aside when I exit. He seems surprised, but he doesn’t stop me. I walk barefoot over the gravel to the maze, but I don’t want to lose myself in more puzzles. Instead, I take the path to the cliffs and follow it to the spot from where Maxime had jumped. The pebbles and sticks are sharp under my feet. I welcome the pain. Even after last night, I still need the punishment. I’m freezing. The wind is cold and relentless, blowing the edges of Maxime’s jacket open and exposing my naked shoulders. I embrace the bite, hoping it will freeze everything inside me, but the burning in my gut continues, eating me up like a ravenous monster. My pain shines like precious stones in the dusty bed of a river. My feelings are discarded like diamonds in the dust. Wasted.
I stare out over the sea. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. The sun is kissing the horizon. It gives the cold blue of the ocean a golden glow. Even in the stark gray of dusk, the water in the cove below is turquoise. A white beach hugs it, just like the one where we had the picnic. Sharp rocks are scattered treacherously throughout the bay, I’m guessing making it difficult for boats to anchor here. It’s like a small slice of paradise in hell.
Slowly, I edge forward, until my toes hang over the cliff. My body screams at me to go back to safer ground as fear claws its way through my chest. It’s a fear I’m no longer unfamiliar with, the fear for my life. Self-preservation kicks in, making me tremble and sweat, making me feel sick when I peer down. I’m a coward. I could’ve fought Maxime harder. I surrendered too easily. I hate myself. I hate feeling helpless and weak. I take another pace until only my heels are resting on the rocks, my stomach climbing up in my throat as my body sways in the strong wind.
“Zoe.”
I turn my head at the sound of my name. It’s instinctive. It’s a trained reaction, like a dog minding a whistle. Maxime stands on the path, a distance away from me. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of tracksuit pants. His chest and feet are bare, his scars exposed to the elements.
He raises an arm. “Give me your hand, little flower.”
I look back down at the sea, scary but oh so pretty. I’m tired of being weak. I want to jump like him. I want to jump and know I can survive. Carefully, I lift my right foot, posing it over the abyss.
“Zoe! Look at me.”
The last I hear is Maxime’s howl as I face my demons and step over the edge.
~ THE END ~