Page 34 of The Wildflower


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My delicate little flower that’s so fierce and strong. But so damn weak for me still.

"Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Bel. Beautiful, and wrong, so fucking wrong, because I'm not fucking engaged to anyone. It was fake. All of it. My father planned it. I never lied to you, not once. Every word I said that night was to protect you.”

Her gaze narrows with suspicion, and I can tell she doesn’t believe me. She’s so caught up in the pain I caused her, in the hateful words that cut her deeper than a knife that she can’t see the truth. "Yeah, well the stitches I had to get because of you aren’t fake. The heartbreak I have because of you isn’t fake. Surprise, sometimes other people's emotions and reactions to things are real even if your own aren’t.”

She could’ve ripped my fucking heart out, and it would’ve hurt less.

When I pushed her, I didn’t anticipate her hitting her head and I replayed that scene a million times over in my mind. It’s the one thing I regret more than anything. Physically hurting her like that. But she’s right, and she has a very real reason not to trust me, and to be angry. I can’t fault her there, and I know I’ll have to earn her trust back if we’re to have a future together.

Her green eyes glisten with tears, and when she blinks, one slips free, trailing down the apple of her cheek. I can’t help myself. I’m not a good fucking man, after all. I might be sorry, and guilt might riddle my soul, but I can’t change the fact that her tears turn me on.

I’ll forever be sick and twisted.

Cupping her by the cheeks, I trace that single tear with my thumb. Another falls, and then another, and I lean in and lick them away, relishing the salty taste on my tongue.

"Fuck, how can it be possible that you look even more beautiful with tears in your eyes?”

She jerks her head back and then winces when it hits the wall. "There is something seriously wrong with you.”

“You already knew that, baby, so don’t act surprised.”

“Oh, I’m not surprised. I’m just wondering why I had any belief that you’d apologize to me. Even if it wasn’t a formal apology, I thought you’d offer me something. And that when you did, maybe I’d finally be able to say you gave a fuck about me, but I didn’t even get that.”

I swallow hard and stare down into her face. "What are you talking about? Everything I've done has been to show you I care about you."

I can visibly see her walls going back up, and I can’t let her go back there without me finishing what I have to say. "I care about you, Bel. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything or anyone in my life." The other words, the ones I'm not quite ready to say despite all the pressure in my chest urging me to do it, stick tight in my throat. "All I ever do is think about you. This past month has killed me, Bel. I wanted to be there for you when your mom…”

“Do not speak about my mother. Ever!” She grits the words through her teeth.

“It’s true. I tried to come to the hospital and Sebastian called the police, but I was there. I didn’t abandon you, Bel.”

I can see it in her eyes. The confusion, pain, and disbelief. She wants to believe me and accept what I’ve said, but a wall comes up out of nowhere and shuts down any progress I might have made. I swallow hard and shake my head.

She reaches for me, her tiny hands clutch onto my T-shirt, and for a second, I'm confused about where this is going. The look in her eyes is lethal, and I'm hard just staring into the green depths of her gaze, drowning to be this close to her for longer than a minute.

She clenches her fists tight into a ball, then drags me down so we’re face-to-face. Only when bright hot pain shoots through my balls and up into my dick, slithering into my stomach, do I realize what’s happened.

Fucking shit.

One. Two. Three. Four.

My entire body becomes one big muscle clenching tightly like the string on a bow before I drop to my knees. The pain makes it hard to breathe, and when I hit the wood floor, I roll to my side. I should’ve anticipated her making a move like this.

My little flower has always been a bit prone to violence lately.

She leans down, her eyes glittering with anger, and I can still see the lust flickering beneath. She wants me, she still fucking wants me. Her eyes rake down over my abs, which are now proudly on display from my tucked up shirt, and my still hard dick that’s outlined in my jeans. She’ll never admit it, at least not right now, but soon.

So fucking soon.

"Stay away from me, Drew. We're done."

“We will never be done.” I speak through my teeth.

“We are, and honestly, I’d stop trying because desperation doesn’t look good on you.” She steps over me and starts walking toward the door.

“Go to the police, get a restraining order…” I force myself to speak even though my breath is labored. “Tell Sebastian so he can put a bullet in my head because the only way you’ll ever be free of me is if I’m dead.”

“You’re pathetic,” she sneers over her shoulder.

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