Page 51 of The Price Of Possession

I want to believe him. I hate how my body betrays me. I refuse to let him know my brain is blighted. Would he still want me?

“Don't hide from me.” His eyes scan over my body, picking up on every cue. I still don't respond. His hand drifts away from the steering wheel landing on my bare thigh. “Feel my touch. Count.”

“Wh—”

“Count,” he interrupts me with his sharp tongue.

I swallow. His hands trace soothing circles along my raised flesh. “One.”

Sweat breaks out over my brow. I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. I slam my eyes shut. I can't do this. He can't see me this way.

“Two.”

“Open your eyes,” he demands.

I do. “See the red lining on the seats?” he asks, his eyes still on the road.

I scrunch my nose. “What?”

“The fucking seats, Clara. Do you see the fucking color red?” His words aren't unkind, but more meant to distract.

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Good. Eyes on that. Don't stop counting.” His hand grips tighter on the steering wheel. His soothing circles now turn into sensual, caressing touches. Such a strange gesture for someone like Kieran. I let my eyes drag to the crimson fabric along the seam of the seats as he requested.

“Three.” My breathing evens out. “Four.” My heart steadies in my chest to a slow, dull thrum. “Five . . .” My chest feels lighter, as if it's no longer weighed down by an anchor.

His skin on mine tethers us together, our souls entwined.

“You good?” His brow raises. I nod. His hand stops, the connection instantly being severed. It leaves a hole in my chest. He pulls up to Grimshaw, he cuts the engine and turns to me. “You trust me?”

All I want is to have him fill in that void inside of my chest. My heart belongs to him. Nothing will ever satiate the ache. His cruelty is what I need to feel human. I hear him in my thoughts. I feel him in my bones. I'll trust him until my dying breath. I'm helpless against him.

“Yes,” I whisper.

I've always been an impulsive fuck up. It's my MO. Destroy anything in my path, take what I want, lie, deceive. So it shouldn't feel any different to lie to her again, to use her again, but it does. As promised, we stroll into Grimshaw with our heads held high. I refuse to let anyone believe she is anything other than mine, because she fucking is.

I slam the door to Zain’s Lincoln. Endless stares from the Elites drill into us as I wrap my hand around hers—a clear display of ownership. I will continue to arrogate her. The shocked expressions are enough, though. I've never had a girl to show off. Not a single damn time. They can make their own assumptions. They can presume she's another toy, the only difference is I'm going public with my claim.

It will ensure her safety. Her hand tightens its grip on mine. She's nervous or on the verge of another one of those anxiety attacks. I hate that she deals with that shit. I figured it out back when she fled from class weeks ago. When she opened the door to her life story I did some research on what the hell she was dealing with.

Not sure why I gave a fuck at all, but it paid off. Turns out anxiety, depression and panic attacks are all common with the trauma she's dealt with. My issues have their own set of problems. I guess I just got the short end of the stick with anger issues instead. Ying to my fucking yang I guess. I drag her along through the courtyard. I know she's still sore, but she can't appear weak. The Elites will eat her alive.

“Are you sure you want to walk me to every single class?” she mutters. I scoff. As if I have a choice. No one but me can protect her. I'm all she's got. “You'd rather someone else?” I snap. No idea why I do. Does the idea of me disgust her? Would she rather have Val or Silas? That sure as shit isn't happening.

Pretty sure I made my intentions clear after I fucked her in the Void? After I sterilized her? After I fucked her pretty mouth? If this isn't enough for her, I have no qualms with fucking her on the table of the Ops building.

When I don't respond she slams her heels down, stomping like a petulant child. “Kieran, just wait a sec—”

“No. What Goddamn part of me not changing my mind are you not getting? I have a plan. You need my protection even if you hate that you want me.” That shuts her up. She goes to open her pretty little mouth but thinks better of it. I smirk. We weave through the hallways. Heads turn and gawk.

Just as we reach the door to her English class, she turns to me. “Thank you for letting me have my phone. I was worried my professors would fail me. I guess in the big picture it doesn't matter.” She chuffs. “I don't feel safe here, Kieran. Mortensen could force my professors to fail me. I don't think he expected me to show my face here again.”

I swing open the door. “Nah, let me handle him. You're under my

protection. I told you. Now sit that pretty ass down. You call me if anyone says shit, understand?” I reiterate. Her hair brushes over her face as she nods. “Good girl. Now go. I'll collect you after class, understand? I mean it. Call me if shit is off at all. A mother fucker so much as looks at you wrong. Call me.”

She forces back a smile. It does something to my cold heart. She stands waiting. For a kiss probably. I've made a habit out of it. Though it's not my MO to be so endearing, I need to nip it in the bud until this shit is taken care of. Can't have the Elites using her against me, because let's face it, she's my weakness. I shouldn't be a bastard, but I usher her along with a hand on her backside. She stumbles into the classroom with a frown. “I'll come back, Nightshade.” I close the door behind her.