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Carved in the Shadows

Page 61

by A.L. Jackson

“I can⁠—”

“But you won’t. It’s been a long day, so why don’t you get ready for bed, and I’ll clean up the kitchen? You know the rules. You cook, I clean.”

On top of it, I was responsible for the mess. I’d been the foolish distraction when the soup had boiled over.

Pushing into places I couldn’t go.

She gave me a little pout. “But it’s my house and you’re my guest.”

“I thought I was your roomie?” Another arch of my brow and more pink to her cheeks.

What I wouldn’t give to know the thoughts in her head that caused it. Had a pretty good idea, though, so I flipped on the faucet and shifted a fraction, trying to block her out and shut down this insanity I was quickly spiraling into.

I didn’t know what the fuck was happening to me.

Thoughts coming unbidden.

Urges slamming me from all sides.

I’d become a master at ignoring it, but over the last twenty-four hours, I’d been spiraling toward disaster.

I could feel her wavering behind me before she finally gave with a muffled, “Fine.”

I didn’t relax until I heard her bedroom door latch behind her.

Not that it helped all that much.

Not when I could hear the faucet run in the bathroom. Not when I could hear the soft thumps of her shuffling around and the clatter of her things.

I focused on washing the dishes, loading them into the dishwasher, spraying down the countertops. Cleaning the kitchen until it was sparkling, the way I used to do Silas’s bedroom whenever I’d lose a bet to him, considering it was often.

A low chuckle climbed my throat as I thought of the way he’d had me pegged. When he’d discovered my soft spot and had started using it against me.

Never malicious. It’d been more of a tease. Proof that I’d always put Elena above anything else.

My jaw clamped as I thought of the way I always had.

Guilt and remorse coming on thick.

This thing that would haunt me for my entire life. A blade driven directly into my contaminated, defiled soul.

A hole that I would never fill.

I put more force into the rag as I scrubbed the island.

“Why does it look like that butcher block just became your mortal enemy?”

I startled at Elena’s playful voice right before it slipped into concern. “You okay over there?”

I looked up to see her standing on the other side of the island.

Dressed in a black pajama set. Long, comfy pants and a tank that had TKO written in pink sequins across her perfect, round tits.

No, I was most definitely not okay.

Because that’s exactly what the sight of her felt like.

A punch to the head. Knocked the fuck out.