The Price (House of Sin #5) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,27
the end of the bed to the side closest to me and turned her back my way as she hooked the next corner. And as she leaned over the mattress, I had a perfect view of her ass in the thin black leggings she was wearing under her oversized baggy sweatshirt—small and tight, each cheek the perfect size to wrap one hand around.
Blood gathered in my groin, stiffening my cock for the first time since that night. And with the arousal came a swift, sharp stab of pain straight through the center of my chest. One that stole my breath and sent nausea surging up my esophagus.
Fuck me.
I was about to get sick—again. Rounding the end of the bed, I made a beeline straight for the bathroom, the one room I hated more than my stupid bedroom, and slammed the door behind me.
Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the door as I fought the sickness. “Get out of my room, Natalie, and don’t come back. Marco and Fee are the only people I want to see.”
Footsteps sounded outside my door, then from the other side, I heard her say, “Marco and Fee left this afternoon to visit Fee’s family in Wales. If you need something, you’re going to have to deal with me.”
My eyes shot open. What the fuck...
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours to take out the last of your stitches,” she said in a hard voice. “You’ll just have to deal with that too.”
Footsteps sounded across the hardwood floor in the bedroom, then a door opened and closed. Not hard. Not loud. She didn’t slam it as I half expected her to do. She came and went as if she owned the place. Which, I realized with a sickening feeling, she pretty much did now that we were the only two people in this damn castle and I was hiding up here in my room.
That sickness in my gut morphed to a whirring misery I was sick of feeling. Exhausted—physically, emotionally, mentally—I slid to the floor, let my legs drop on the tiles, and carefully leaned back against the old wood door.
I was being an ass. I was frustrating the hell out of everyone—especially myself. But I didn’t know how to break free of this self-loathing darkness that had taken over my life. What was even the point?
For years, I’d told myself that somehow I’d find a way out of my House. I’d even continued to convince myself I could do that after I’d dragged Natalie into this nightmare. But I knew now that was never going to happen. I would never be free of my family, of this fucked-up House. I had zero power. When they’d stepped foot onto Marco’s property, when they’d taken Natalie even after I’d made that fucking deal, they’d proved I was powerless in this world. I couldn’t protect her. And that meant the only way to ensure her safety was for her to get as far from me as possible. Only she was too goddamn stubborn to see that fact for herself.
My chest seized, and I lifted a hand and placed it over my heart as I breathed through the pain.
I wanted her gone.
I wanted her out of my life once and for all so I didn’t have to see her, or hear her, or relive how I’d betrayed her every fucking moment.
That darkness swirled around me faster. A darkness I was tired of fighting. Giving in to it, I slid to the floor so I was lying on my side on the cold tile, staring at the baseboards, wishing like hell I could just fade into that wood and feel nothing.
Because, holy hell, anything had to be better than the nightmare I was living.
I wasn’t sure what woke me. I only knew when I pulled my eyes open, it was dark, I was lying on my side in bed, and someone was moving around in my room.
I lifted my head from the pillow and squinted to see through the darkness, only I couldn’t make out shit. “Marco?”
“Nope.” Footsteps sounded at the foot of my bed, then the nightstand light beside me flicked on, blinding me. “Roll to your stomach so I can check those stitches.”
I grimaced, slapped a hand over my eyes, and pressed my face into the pillow. Not because Natalie had told me too, dammit, but because my retinas were burning from her little stunt. “Porca troia.”