“Why do you think that is?” I wonder.
“Redemption,” he says. “Humans fight because they have regrets… monsters fight because they want a chance to become human.”
Chapter Sixteen
“I sat in the sun on a bench; the animal within me licking the chops of memory; the spiritual side a little drowsed, promising subsequent penitence, but not yet moved to begin.” —Robert Louis Stevenson
Izzy
I didn’t want to go home.
For some reason, I felt even more sad than before. The vodka clearly wasn’t doing its job. I made my way back into the guest room and sat down on the bed, kicking off my heels and then staring over at the wall I shared with Maksim.
Irritated, I left the room, ready to pound down his door. It was open by a crack. Ignoring all privacy rules, I shoved the door farther open and made my way into his bedroom, and snorted out a disgusted laugh.
Of course, he would be the one boy who had a clean room.
From his navy duvet perfectly pulled tight around throw pillows. What boy has throw pillows? His flat-screen is adjusted in the corner along with his PlayStation because at least that’s proof he’s an immature little shit still.
His white dresser has a Rolex on it, along with a cell phone charger and earbuds. And weirdly, I noticed that all of his clothes were basically untouched in his closet when I peeked in.
Some had tags still on them like he’d bought them but for some reason didn’t think he should wear them.
In fact, his entire room seemed completely unlived in since the last time I was there writhing on his bed.
“Find anything interesting?” Maksim asked, startling me to near death as I stumbled back against his dresser, causing it to hit the wall with a loud clunk.
“You scared me.”
“Drunkenly searching for things, or do you miss me that much?” he teased.
“No, I hate you, remember? I had to promise it.” I moved past him, but he reached out, his fingertips imprinting against my skin, pulling my body flush against his. “Stop confusing me, Maksim. You need to let me go. I need to let you go.”
“I agree,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine; the man didn’t even blink. “But what if I ask you for two hours?”
“Two hours?” I repeat. “To what? Play Candyland?”
He snorted out a laugh. “You know we can’t play that anymore after you burned the board last year.”
“Because you cheated.” I jerked away. What was his freaking problem? “And you know it!”
He held up his hands in innocence, his sexy smirk on full display. “I still claim that you skipped over peppermint forest.”
It should be illegal how he said peppermint as if I could taste it off the tip of his tongue.
“For the last time, you can’t skip when you get a freaking color!” I shouted, ready to charge him at full speed and just pray to knock him out against a hard object.
He smiled as if I was cute. “I missed your yell.”
“Ugh, you’re the worst. I’m leaving.”
“Two hours.” He said again, catching my arm and tugging me back against his chest. “And I’ll quit you—forever.”
I wanted to say you promise, but the fact that he’s willing to do that made me want to puke.
I would never get over him, would I?
“Why two hours?” I asked, afraid to look at him.
“I can’t answer that.”
“Why?” I finally looked over my shoulder.
His eyes were different, wild. “If you trust nothing else, trust this one thing, this conversation. Everything I’ve done in the last few days has been to make you happy.”
“That is complete bullshit!” I shouted. “You hooked up so I could hear you? So I’d what? Smile? You invited her to dinner, so I’d be pleased? You keep telling me to hate you, so I’ll dance on your grave? What the hell is wrong with you, Maksim? I’m serious; get it all out there because the minute I walk out of this room, I’m done, you hear me? Fucking done with you and your complete immature bullshit and—”
His mouth collided against mine before I could stop him.
I shoved him hard, but he didn’t budge; his tongue delved deeper into my mouth, his hands painfully tugged my hair, pulling it out of its ponytail and tossing the rubber band to the floor.
I jerked away. “Why!”
Tears filled his eyes. “Because I need something to focus on when it stops.”
“When what stops?”
“No questions.” He kissed me again. “Love me now, hate me tomorrow.”
“How about hate you now, murder you in the morning?” I offered.
He smashed his mouth against mine then pulled away. “I’d take your hate right along with your heart any day.”
“You’re a thief.” I collapsed against him. “And I hate that you make me feel weak.”
“It’s not weakness,” he said, holding me against his chest, “when all you want to do is walk away—but you stay instead.”