I hiss in pain, as a long sigh leaves him. “Talk Alice.”
I stare straight ahead at the mirror, watching him behind me. “About what?”
“Your scars. Tell me.”
I frown, as one of his hands runs over the main one on my stomach. ”That was a long time ago. I don’t want to talk about it.” It doesn’t stop his finger working over the ridge, or stop his other hand joining in to touch one of his own.
“Not very honest.”
I sigh. “His name was Tommy. He thought he could use me. I didn’t like that.” Shivers roll over me, Malachi’s hands causing them as he keeps caressing the scars. “And I needed to avenge the past. That’s it. That’s all.” My thoughts flit around for more, but the only thing that seems to resonate, after this quiet time together, is the memory of him almost dying on me last night, the vision of my mother dying and the conversation that told me my father was dead.
I gingerly float my hands up his forearms, dragging them softly along with the bubbles. “Have you ever watched someone die?” His doesn’t say anything, as I caress the scars on his wrists. “It’s frightening. You can’t do anything to help. You shook when Gray brought you back. You had a fit of some sort. I held you so tightly, willed you to make it. I didn’t understand that, but I couldn’t lose you. Why couldn’t I lose you? And then again, last night in the pool? Was it a pool? I don’t know. We were underwater, though. Couldn’t lose you then either. You shouldn’t mean anything to me.” He sighs and begins taking his wrists away from me, but my hands tighten around his. “No, Malachi. Stay. This is what you’re searching for, isn’t it?” I think it is, anyway. “Honesty? Realism?”
No answer. Perhaps it’s too much. I don’t know, but I can’t help if he won’t talk. I’m pointless, and I get that, I guess, but I’m here to help. I agreed and I suppose I hoped as well.
Who wouldn’t with a man like this?
My eyes blink, potential tears welling up for some unjust reason considering the shit he’s already put me through. “It doesn’t make any sense, does it? You and me?” I mutter, looking at his hands hovering on me. I rub his still healing scars harder, feel the ridges of broken and torn skin until I lift them to my lips, kissing each wrist softly. “I understand. I mean, why should I make any difference to what you want out of life? Maybe you just need to talk to a friend, Malachi. A real one."
Quiet for a while.
Until.
"We don't have friends up here," he murmurs. "Friends are for your world, Alice. Not mine."
"Up here? As opposed to the world beneath you?"
"Yes."
I look at him in the mirror, still rubbing his scars. Perhaps I should feel enraged about the condescending statement. I don't. It's true in his opulence and grandeur, I guess. Here he is, above us all with his money and status and oil rigs. And here I am with my scars and my life and my hovel I call a home. Two different beings. Two different worlds entirely.
I lick my lips, letting myself roll my fingers through his until our hands are twined together. "You've really got no friends at all?"
"None."
"Wow. Well, no wonder you're so fucking lonely." He tilts his head at me, keeping that fixed scowl in place. "No friends. No companionship. No kindness. No love." I smile a little, wondering what he might be like if that wasn't the case. "And that's so very sad, but I can’t play games now. It’s more. You’ve made it more. Maybe you’ve enjoyed that, but I’m not that girl that gets played, Malachi. Not anymore.” Still no reaction. Nothing. Just dark eyes, a fixed scowl, and his size behind me. “Maybe this was just childish of me. We should call it quits, don’t you think? And then I can …” I don’t know. Leave?
If he’ll let me.
I keep staring, unable to find the rest of the words I’m searching for or a sensible route other than leaving him. I just watch his eyes, his focused frown, seemingly hypnotised by the depths it hides from me. All that money, and all that power, and yet he seems so desolate and alone.
I don't like it at all.
He opens his mouth eventually, hovers it there, as if guarding anything that he’s keeping inside. “You make more sense to me than anything lately, Alice,” he murmurs. ”You’re becoming everything to me. Use that to help you. I don’t have anything else to say yet.”
I am?
Chapter 14
Malachi
Isigh and keep looking at her in the mirror, knowing only one thing. In this moment, and in the minutes before when she talked of kindness and love, and the night before when we fucked and she bled, I only want her. The acceptance of that makes me pull her closer, kiss the back of her head and lean her onto me harder. It feels good here – still and full of something I’ve never felt before.
“Turn around. Show me how you feel.”
She hesitates for only a second before turning fully and wrapping her body around me. Another sigh leaves me. So beautiful. I look at her body, scan it thoroughly so I can’t take in the marks I’ve made on her covering old wounds, before kissing her collarbones and neck. She smells like wildfire. All anger and ire. Hot flowers, summer rain.
I let my lips linger over one of the vines crawling over her breast, trying to work out what this means. Space, thought?
