stairs.
I felt him at my back as I ran up the rest of the way to his bedroom. When I glanced back at him, he was pulling on his pants as he walked, clumsily zipping up his fly. I didn’t give him a chance to catch up to me.
I wanted a shower. I wanted to wash away the evidence of us and scrub my skin raw so I’d have some other sort of pain to focus on, other than the ache between my thighs. I wrenched open his bedroom door and then immediately marched across his room until I was in the connecting bathroom. I went inside and then slammed the door shut, locking it with a huff. I knew that if Rogue really wanted to, he could kick open the door. Part of me wanted him to.
Oh god. That was what made all of this so twisted. I didn’t want to change a damn thing about what just happened. I’d let him use me and throw me away again and again because I craved him so much. It wasn’t the violent fuck that ruined me. It wasn’t even that it was Rogue Kelly who broke me in half, speared me with his cock, and demanded my pleasure. What killed me was that I enjoyed it. I liked not having the sweet sex I’d once dreamed about. I liked fighting him. I liked letting out our darker sides to run free. And the murder? I barely even thought about that. What kind of person did that make me?
“What are you doing, Scar?” he asked in exasperation through the door.
I squeezed my eyes shut while leaning against the wood and staring at the large walk-in shower.
“I’m going to get cleaned up.” My voice was surprisingly casual considering everything that had just happened. Maybe if I continued to pretend to be just another one of his random conquests, I could get through this without jealousy eating away at me. I always thought that after my first time, he would take care of me afterwards. I should have known that I would end up taking care of myself. That was the common theme with them, wasn’t it? They teased me with a lasting friendship and then left me to deal with my life crashing down around me.
When I walked to the shower and turned on the water, I heard the lock on the door click, and I knew he’d unlocked it from the other side. I didn’t turn to check, though. Instead, I stripped from my shirt, not even looking back when I heard the door swing open and Rogue enter the bathroom. I stared at the water flowing from the spout and felt his eyes on my back.
The steam from the shower quickly filled the small space as I tossed my clothes in the trash. I didn’t want to look at them and be reminded of how screwed up I was. “I brought you some clothes,” Rogue said before tossing a pile of sweats on the counter.
“Thanks.”
“Need anything?”
“Nope.”
I stepped under the water and slid the glass door shut before listening for signs that he had left. I could have easily looked to see, but I didn’t dare turn my gaze on him. I couldn’t handle seeing those angry eyes staring back at me. I couldn’t handle knowing that I’d never be more than a fuck. I lathered the soap in my palm and ran it over my body, washing myself again and again until the scalding water turned icy cold. And still, it wasn’t enough. I wanted to wash away how much I wanted Rogue Kelly, but it didn’t work like that. I couldn’t let him go. I couldn’t stop hoping that all the Heirs would care about me again.
Finally, I cut off the water and got out of the shower. It surprised me when I found that Rogue was still there, his face expressionless. He was sitting on top of the granite counter, his back against the mirrored glass and one knee propped up with his arm braced on top of it. He was damp from the steam, his hair darker than usual and his shirt sticking to his skin.
He could have spoken up at any time. I wasn’t sure why he just quietly waited for me to come out. I wanted to pry apart his skull and figure out what his fucked up thoughts are. But most of all, I wanted to know where I stood with him. He handed