KILL ME SOFTLY

51

Elias was different now. Not in the way he was, not in the way he carried himself, and not in the ways he led, but he was different.

He was always watching me, his eyes careful and cautious. He was never still. Even when he laid next to me at night I still felt the tension that rippled through him.

He never left my side, and if he did, I knew Aleksei or one of his many minions would be watching from a distance.

I'd managed to persuade him out of a full time security detail as long as I promised to stay in the apartment, not wander, and not talk to strangers.

Elias' concern for my safety is deadly and incredibly fuckable. I hate to say that I don't hate how protected he makes me feel, how he'd kill for me without a second thought.

That if a person took a wrong touch towards me and he'd have there hands. 

Elias had indeed changed, for me, in some way.

Yet he was still Elias Volkan.

I hadn't seen him since late last night when a call sent him throwing back the sheets and out of bed. Now mid afternoon, I busied myself flipping through channels with a glass of red wine in hand, half empty, and delicious.

To be fair, I hadn't intended to get wind drunk at 3 pm, but old habits die hard. I miss the rush of the drugs. I miss how awful and how powerful they made me feel when I felt like shit.

When I felt like I feel now.

Silas had cut wounds deep, and still he seems to continue cutting and he's thousands of miles away.

I wanted silas to suffer. More than the few bullets that we had manage to slug him with. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to to pay for what he has done. What he's stolen.

There was no forgiveness. There was so mercy. I lost it. I couldn't—The pieces of the stories he gave me, how they fit but don't.

How my mother—How I could have had a mother who would have done anything to keep me safe, Even if that meant running from everything she knew.

How I was an heir to something I never asked for, never wanted. That I was tied to this fucking world way behind I even knew it.

I wonder what I would have been if I'd been raised there. If I'd be like Silas. That thought keeps me up at night.

I tipped the bottle against my lips, and took a small drink, before leaning forward and setting the bottle down on the floor below me.

I inhaled sharply, my fingers playing and and tangling themselves, the emptiness on my ring finger created a weight that clawed and bared down inside of me

Elias and I were Divorced. Still together. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. Soul-tied. Whatever the fuck we were now.

I didn't know what we were, but I knew that I wanted him. And I knew that wanting him was the most dangerous thing.

"Thinking hard?" His voice echoed lowly through the tall ceilings, his voice rough, brash. I smiled lowly as I stared forward at the TV screen, in the reflection I could see him come close and stand behind me.

I hadn't even heard him come in, but to be fair, I was two glasses past self awareness.

"Yes." I said, as I craned my neck slightly as the tingle that came to my skin as he reached his hand out, brushing the hair off my shoulders and dragging his finger over the skin on the back of my neck.

"I missed you." He said to me in a low tone, and I turned my head slightly to get a look at him.

"Where did you go?" I said, before I adjusted myself on the couch, and turned to face him, not completely ready for how devastatingly beautiful he looked.