Page 99 of Coal Hearts

Perhaps I wasn’t so stupid to grasp at fairytales.

Maybe my mind wasn’t playing tricks after all.

It took every shred of strength to press a hand over his drumming heart. “Tell me. Tell me what you aren’t saying. Tell me why I sense that you’re different.”

“I’m different?” He chuckled. “And here I was thinking the same about you.” His brows came down. “You’re the one who’s different, Ily, and it’s a right pain in my ass.”

I stilled.

What did he mean by that?

Swallowing hard, I whispered for the third time, “Who are you?”

“Qui suis je?” (Who am I?) Grabbing my jaw, he shoved my head to the side, then breathed hotly. “I’m the man doing his best, all while knowing it will never be good enough.”

I didn’t fight his hold. To the cameras, it would look as if I was catatonic with panic. To be honest, that wasn’t far from reality.

Henri successfully deleted any foundation I had. He made me doubt. Made me question. Made me hope.

And that was by far the cruellest thing he could ever do.

“Please...” I murmured. “Just tell me.”

He let loose a slurry of slurs. “I knew this would be hard, but I wasn’t prepared for it to be impossible.”

“What’s impossible?”

“You.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck.”

I trembled in his hold.

He didn’t speak for the longest moment, all while his hips remained plastered against my stomach. The longer he held me, the faster my heart raced. An awful recipe of awareness and wishing turned me inside out.

I should hate him.

I did hate him.

And yet...there’d always been something.

Something that only grew stronger the longer we whispered.

“Tell me,” I demanded. “Before I go mad.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“There is. You’re choking on it. Are you lying to me, them, or yourself?”

“Fucking hell.” His head bowed, his eyelashes like dark cobwebs on his cheeks. “Shit, this is a bad, bad idea. I’ve lost my ever-loving mind.” Grabbing my hip, he hissed, “You can’t tell anyone, do you hear me? Not a damn soul.”

I nodded.

“I....Christ, I’m trusting you with my life, Ily.”

I nodded again or the best I could with him forcing my head to the side.

“Merde.” He stiffened, sighed, then sagged over me as if he’d lost his battle. “This will probably blow up in my face, but he didn’t tell me I couldn’t tell anyone, and I really need you to work with me instead of against me. It’s only been a few hours, and I’m already at my wit’s end.” He groaned low and dark. “If this is the easiest way, the safest way, then...so be it.”

With another gulp, he poured black secrets directly into my soul. “Everything I’ve told you is real. I’m like them. Don’t think for a moment that I’m not. I fight this sickness on a minutely basis. I don’t know how to stop it, and I don’t know if I have the strength to control it but I’m trying. God, I’m trying. I don’t want to be this way. I didn’t ask to be born with this curse. He sent me here to prove I’m better than this, and I have a horrible premonition that I’ll fail, so...” He shrugged. “I need help. There, I said it. You weren’t meant to be here, and I wasn’t prepared for you, but it’s happened, and now we’re both screwed unless you listen to me. I need...I really need you to fucking listen when I say you can’t stand up to me. You can’t fight me. I’ll do whatever I can to stop them from touching you, Ily. I’ll do my absolute best to protect you, but in order to do that...I’m going to have to be the one who touches you.” He pulled back a little, wrenching my face to his. “Do you see what I’m saying?”