Page 80 of Fallen Rook

Yeah, fuck that. We were done doing things his way. “This thing between us, Enzo, it’s toxic.”

“It’s messy,” I countered. “But it works.”

Tom stared at the floor. “I don’t think it does.”

I shot to my feet. I wasn’t in the mood to get dumped after feeling so used tonight. And I definitely didn’t care for another round of trying-to-convince-Tom-Rothwell-I-was-worthy-of-breathing-the-same-air-as-him.

He thought he didn’t do jealousy? That we were pointless? Doomed? Fine by me. I mean, shit. I couldn’t go on like this, trying to convince the entire world I was worthy of love.

“I’m not going to relieve you of your guilt, because what you did to me was shitty and wrong.” I shoved my feet into my sneakers. “You’re right that this is the last time you do that, because next time, I will fight back and kill you. I do promise to be mindful of your boundaries. Next time you tell me to go away, I’ll leave. However, if you want to keep doing this”—I gestured between us—“we’re exclusive, and you stop running from me.”

He sat there, watching me, hollowed out. I continued before I lost my nerve. “If we do this, you always use lube, and you always fucking ask. Take it or leave it.”

I held my breath, waiting for his words.

“And then what?” he asked dejectedly. “We’d be exclusive, with you married to someone else, us sneaking around like thieves in the night, and I’d get to spend every holiday alone, watching as you grow your family with your Bratva princess?” His eyes turned remote and cold. “No, thank you. I’ve seen this film before. I didn’t like how it ended.”

Licking my lips, it was my turn to feel shame. “You know it’s all I can offer. We have to meet in the middle, Tom.”

“This is your middle, not my middle, Enzo.” Tom’s tone was resolute, and I knew that it was truly over. “I can’t go down that path again. Not when I know how badly it can end. For me. For you. I’m sparing both of us, even if you don’t feel that way right now. Someone needs to be the responsible adult here.”

“I see. And I’m just a stupid kid, right?” I threw my nickname in his face.

He said nothing.

“Why won’t you admit that you like me, Tom?”

He forced his gaze up to meet mine. His hands trembled in his lap. “Because I’m not a liar, Enzo.”

I turned around and slammed the door behind me so hard the entire floor shook.

Fucker. Asshole. Coward. There was no stopping the train wreck that was us anymore. We were no longer at the precipice, clawing our way back up as to not to fall.

We were free-falling straight into the abyss of a destiny we could never escape.

I spent the next few days playing the night on loop, trying to put a name to what happened.

Rape? No. I was a willing participant; I never once asked or thought about stopping it. I just fucking hated how he didn’t ask. The hatred in his eyes when our bodies were connected.

Sexual assault? Also no.

But I did feel scared. I did feel out of control.

Sexual violence. That was the term.

I thrived on it, yes, but without communication or consent, it made little difference, because at the end of the day, it made me feel like shit.

There were enough things in my life to make me feel that way. So maybe it was good that we were over.

I believed Tom when he said it would never happen again. He seemed sincere and grief-struck in the moment that followed.

But what if one time was one too many?

The irony didn’t escape me.

I, the man who poisoned his father, was now drawn to the most toxic venom on planet Earth.

A man who set his sights on one thing, and one thing only—destroying me.