Page 42 of The Price Of Possession

I wet my lips, ready to expose every vulnerability within myself. I'm sick of trying to hide who I am. “My mother was a whore. I never understood why my childhood looked different than my friends’. Despite our lifestyle . . . she loved me.”

He cocks his head, listening intently, drinking in each word. My words grow shaky.

“All I wanted to do was be a normal girl. I wanted a house with a dog and a little white fence. I hated the endless slew of hotel rooms in shady neighborhoods.” My eyes snap shut and I turn my cheek. His fingers dance along my skin before pinching my chin, forcing my eyes back on his. “Keep going. Don't stop.” His irises shine with a primal fire, as if this, too, gets him off. My misfortune. My struggling past. All of it.

He takes my hands, dragging them along his damaged stomach. I sense this may be his way of comforting me, but I'm not sure he knows how, but if this is his attempt, I'll take it. My nails trace along his tattoos, scars, and healed incisions, blinding me with his lethal beauty. He's gorgeous, captivating even. Even like this.

Reluctantly, I continue. I'm terrified of what he thinks of me. As if it'll give him another reason to see me as nothing. “But . . . as I got older, I started to see it. Her addiction to drugs and sex. Then . . . it started to be targeted toward me. My once loving mother who protected me, suddenly let the drugs cloud her judgement. So, I started . . .” I swallow, unable to finish my sentence. Kieran wears a mask of indifference but continues guiding my hands over his scars. “It was then I decided I wanted a different lifestyle. But even after you erase that part of your life, it lingers, leaving a festering wound that won't heal in its wake. I felt like I did something to deserve this life, like maybe I am meant to feel every single shard of pain embedded in my system. I was ashamed of who I was, so I forced myself to feel it all. Every painful memory. Every dirty touch. Sometimes, when I felt it was too much to bear, I drowned myself in drugs for a short time just to endure.” My mind drifts to painful memories, resurfacing in the forefront of my mind.

Tears pour from my eyes, streaking down my cheek. I'm just so tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of life. My hands drop back to my lap and I just sob. Kieran doesn't speak. Who can blame him? He wanted a broken, fragile woman. He won. I've given up. I'm no longer his obsession. He can move on to his next victim. The perfect reason to leave. His fiery gaze lingers. An unapologetic hunger ignites within him. He takes my cheeks in both hands, caressing my damp skin wordlessly. His thirst for power supersedes any ounce of sympathy he could ever possess.

“Kill me.” I whisper faintly into his hand. Stray tears bead down my cheek, catching into his palm. I inhale his scent like a fiend, ashamed I can still bear to even be in the same room as him, let alone ache for his scent, as if it's some sort of calming agent; if anything it should shatter me whole.

His face turns deadly serious, giving nothing else away. “Nah. Never.” His words burn into my skin. Each painful syllable burrowing further under my epidermis, taking hold.

I sag against his chest. His hands fall to his sides. He kisses the top of my head. The only remotely affectionate gesture he's ever really shown me. He lays my body down onto the soft sheets. His warmth envelopes me like a blanket, hugging my skin. I'm no fool to think this was for comfort, but more so that I don't escape him. He owns me, but soon nobody will ever own me again.

I’m speechless; surrounded by a whirling mix of emotions. My insides twist with a mix of . . . sympathy and sullenness. Pleasure only hits when I'm the one delivering the blow. When it's anyone else, it leaves me filled with unrequited rage and animosity. All I want is to hurt each and every man who ever laid their fingers on her skin. She's mine to destroy. Only I get to make her cry. Even then, her tears no longer bring me the same fulfillment they once did. Nah, instead it brings out emotions I don't like. Self-reproachful desire. A loathsome craving I can't satiate. I'm sickened by it.

It took every ounce of my being to leave her. She needs time to come to terms with what I've done to her, and my past. She's been stripped of her dignity, ability to mother children, and had her past unearthed in a single day. Not to mention finding out my depths of brutality. My head still can't wrap around this shit. Despite the fact I want nothing more than to remain by her side like a keeper, I reluctantly let her rest. Hell, if only to figure my own shit out.

Putting a hoodie over my head, I stalk down the hall to locate Zain. There's a lot to unpack and he's gotta have some idea for our next step. I need some planning right now before I do stupid shit like pop a bullet in Mortensen's head, or better yet burn him alive. Before I reach the final step, Vesper appears from the corner and clocks me in the nose. I stumble back. My back slams against the banister. “You asshole!” she shouts. She goes in for another punch, but I grab her wrist. Zain flanks the corner from the kitchen. He sees my hands on her. His eyes instantly darken.

“She attacked me, man! Handle it!” I growl, shoving her back and pinching my gushing nose. She tries desperately to get another swing in, but I'm over twice her size and heavily built. Good luck, sweetheart. I'm ready this time. She sure can pack a hell of a punch. The Grimshaw attitude I'd guess . . .

Zain wrangles her behind him. Blood trickles down my nose, face, and palm. I wipe it along my sleeve. “Control her,” I growl. My nerves are shot. The entire world is burning around me, and all I'm capable of doing is watching it go down in flames. Overwhelmed is an understatement.

“You are a liar!” Vesper shrieks, pointing at me. “We trusted you!”

I sigh. “You haven't a clue the shit I've done to keep you alive, Vesper! Especially now knowing what I fucking know. I'm still comprehending all this shit! I haven't had a single moment to process it while handling Clara! I've done all of this for the greater good,” I fire back.

“You sterilized her! The greater good? What the hell!”

I roar over her shouts. “I did it because I had to! I need Mortensen to believe I'm following in his fucked up path! This is the only way.”

Her tears cease. She sags against Zain. Great, more for her to wrap her head around. She wants to peg me for a cynical monster, I guess I'm not far off. I tip my head up motioning for us to head to the kitchen. She stalks toward the kitchen table. Zain drags a chair out and settles Vesper on his lap. I jump up onto the countertop and swing my legs over the edge.

“Not sure where to begin,” I start off, dragging my fingers through my hair. Vesper refuses to even look at me and it kills me. I never used to give a fuck about her, and I hate myself for it. She's my half-sister. I should feel something. Maybe be a protective big brother or some shit.

I blow out a breath. “Man, this shit is a shock for me, too, ok?” I rub my temples. I've found out I have siblings, but that's not the fucked up part. Yeah, I fucked my sister. And while I don't judge Zain for his choices with Vesper, that sours my stomach thinking I did that to own flesh and blood. I've never had a sense of family, but still, she was innocent. The haunted look in her eyes is engrained within me. When I close my eyes, she's always there. I still haven't settled from the realization of what I've done.

Zain strokes the ends of Vesper's hair, soothing her the best way he knows how. His dead eyes fall to me as he shields her, as if I'd really hurt her. He knew the plan, this isn't news to him. His voice sounds detached and almost accusatory. “Did you not know the girl you raped was your own sister?”

I balk. I've done good at burying the memory in the back of my mind. I still see her when I'm alone. All the alcohol in the world won't erase my past. I'm not one to openly wear my emotions, and I sure as hell won’t start now. It pisses me off that he looks at me like I'm a freak. Out of all people, he should trust me. He and I have always been in sync.

Vesper refuses to look in my direction. I let my head fall back to collect myself. I snort.

Un-fucking-real. “It's fucked up you'd ask me that? You think I knew she was my sister? I was fucking thirteen, man. Mortensen took me into the Void to test me, just to see if I was ready. He made me fuck her. I wasn't given a choice.” My voice grows louder. I dig into my pocket pulling out a pack of smokes. I fumble the cigarette out, lighting it, and taking a heavy hit to numb the bullshit. I try to keep my voice to a minimum knowing Clara is asleep upstairs. My hands shake at my sides. The nightmares threaten to resurface, making me spiral into an endless need for pills and alcohol. I've learned to deal with my shit, but even though it's over I'll always be reminded of it. It's easier to channel this rage and hatred into pleasure. I need her.

I slam my fist against the countertop and pull the cigarette from my lips. My body propels forward. “You have no clue the shit I've been through, man. Either of you. Yeah, I killed her inadvertently. It was for pleasure, not death. I didn't fucking know I would be the straw that broke her back.” Vesper peeks her face out from the crook of Zain's shoulder.

“I've gotten the short end of the stick in all this shit. I covered for you Zain, when you used my gun. I've always been there for you, taking the heat for your shit,” I look over to Vesper. “I tried to make sure you didn't see the Void. I protected Clara for you both!” Zain shakes his head slowly. “I admit I fucked up; I did what I needed to for my girl. You have always been the tormentor of your own problems. You did the rest of this shit on your own. She was your obsession. You took it farther than you needed. You always do. Don't deny it. You never planned to let Clara see the Void. She was your plaything and giving her up wasn't an option for you. You fixate, Kieran. You're in a constant state of chasing the next thing to fulfill that part of you. You've never been levelheaded and now you want to destroy Mortensen because he threatened to take your new shiny plaything” This motherfucker. I lose my shit. He can fuck right off.

“You know what, fuck you. You haven't a clue the shit I've been through. How can you ask me if I willingly raped my own sister?! How can you sit here and assume his destruction is related to her. I've always loathed him. Man, you've known me for how long? I never asked for these scars!” I lift the hem of my hoodie up, giving them an eye full of my mutilated skin. The tattoos only hide so much. “I want to destroy him because he's a piece of shit. Don't even spin this shit into something it isn't." I grunt. The smoke from the cigarette hazes the room.

Fixate? Maybe, but only because it satiates my need for power. To dominate. But the asshole is right. I made the choices. Feeling something for her wasn't in the cards, it just happened. Now, for whatever stupid ass reason, I do love her. I would fucking die for her. I'd kill for her.

Zain remains annoyingly calm as he and Vesper skim over my body like I'm a freakshow. Zain clicks his tongue. “And how much have you opened up? The hurt you carry is obvious. You're impulsive as fuck and need a good reality check,” he points out, not showing emotion. Why fucking would he? The guy is so indifferent unless it is about Vesper.