Chapter Three
“Come closer, love,” Adam told me. “Lie here with me.” His voice was soft. The tone of it was rich yet hypnotic.
I was sitting on his bed, fiddling with the edge of the navy blue comforter, but kept my eyes locked on his. “But you’re in the closet,” I pointed out. Literally. He was literally laying down on the floor in his closet.
He smirked and winked and it was always at moments like that, that I couldn’t refuse him. “Just get in here,” he said.
I obeyed but remained hesitant, tip-toeing across his bedroom to lay down with him on his closet floor. When I reached him, I got on all fours and crawled closer before snuggling in next to him. Then I planted my nose against his chest and inhaled. The light ocean-spray scent of his cologne did a dance with my nostrils and I thought, I wouldn’t mind if my nose was sewn to his shirt. I could bathe and inhale the scent of him forever. He always wore just the right amount of cologne. Not too much. Not too little. “What now?” I questioned.
His moist lips pressed against the spot behind my ear. “Close the door,” he moaned against my skin.
Goosebumps sprouted up and down my arms and heat radiated in my cheeks. Words were lodged in the back in my throat and I struggled to get them out. Finally in one, breathless rasp I asked, “Why?”
Adam worked his way down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses before planting his lips on my collarbone. “Just do it,” he said, peeking up at me through his long, dark eyelashes.
“Okay.” I pulled my leg back the slightest bit and closed the door with the heel of my right foot. “What now?”
Adam kissed his way up my neck stopping at my jawline. “Nothing,” he stated.
We were wrapped up, cloaked in a layer of black so thick it felt like driving on a foggy morning without headlights. And seeing the yellow lines on the road on a morning like that was nearly impossible. “What do you mean, nothing?” There was a hint of curiosity in my tone. “There has to be a reason why you wanted me to close the door.”
He pressed his lips against mine and my mouth parted. At that moment, his tongue began a slow, sultry dance with mine. He pulled himself all the way on top of me and tangled his fingers in my auburn locks. Desire blossomed in the pit of my stomach and I felt my legs starting to tremble. Breathless, and uncertain of what his purpose was, I broke the kiss and exhaled, “Adam, I—.”
“Shhh.” He cut me off with his pointer finger against my lips. “You might disagree,” he went on, “but I happen to think there’s something seductive about the dark.”
I tuck the memory into a portion of my mind that I know I won’t revisit when I hear Adam coo in a sing-song voice, “My sweet Regina.”
“I hate you!” I fire back at him. I hop up from the edge of my now filled in grave, positioning myself directly in front of him. I stare up at him, my eyes filled with fury. “I fucking hate you!”
I am a terrible liar.
The worst part is that I don’t hate him.
I hate myself.
I hate myself because I thought he held the key to the gates of heaven in his eyes.
I hate myself because I loved him so much.
I hate myself for giving him the opportunity to prove me right when I so desperately hoped he would prove me wrong.
Because I knew….
I knew all along that something wasn’t right with him, but I didn’t want it to be real. I didn’t want to believe it. I was content living in a fucked fantasy relationship with him because it is easier to live in a lie rather than face the truth.
Because the truth hurts.
And lies don’t cost a thing.
Out of nowhere, I hear Adam laugh. It is a laugh filled with deceit and wickedness and I can’t do anything at that point but scream.
Out of pain.
Out of anger.
Out of sorrow.
Or maybe a mixture of all three, I’m not quite sure.
Tears flood my eyes and I ball my hands into fists at my sides. “But I loved you!” I shriek. “I loved you!” I repeat the words several times until my voice dies down to barely above a whisper, “But I loved you.” I collapse at his feet, feeling weak, defeated hopeless and broken. Sobs rack my chest and before I know it, I’m crying so hard that I can’t breathe.
But I loved him.
He whistles before belting out, “Regina, the apple of my eye.”
At that moment I snap. Every shred of sanity I have left evaporates into thin air. I’m on my feet again and in a few quick steps, I’m behind him. “Fuck you!” My emotions are a cyclone of love, hate, and misery. The funnel spins around and around inside of me, destroying everything in its path.
My head, my stomach, my heart.
Every part of me is shattered debris.
Unable to keep my emotions in check, I launch my shoulder into Adam’s back and shove him. I shove him as hard as I can, but then I remember that I’m dead.
He doesn’t even feel me.
He doesn’t even flinch.
All he does, is stomp on the dirt concealing my body, flattening it. He does this while whistling the tune he always he used to sing to me.
My sweet Regina. Regina, the apple of my eye.
The sound of the song that used to bring me so much joy now sickens me. I’ve never wanted to rip out a person’s voice-box so much. But that’s not what breaks me.
No….
What breaks me entirely is when Adam picks up the shovel, places it against his shoulder then looks in my direction. He makes eye contact with me and cocks his head to the side. I start panting. I start hoping. I want answers. I need him to tell me why he did this to me. When he nods in my direction I have faith. Can he see me? Can he see me? Is this real or is my mind playing tricks on me? “Why?” I ask. “Adam, why?”
He doesn’t give me the response I’m hoping for. Instead, he keeps his gaze centered, smirks and says, “I can’t help the way I am.” With that being said, he pivots on his heel and turns his back to me. He takes a few steps then stops, glancing over his shoulder and says, “You my love, will always be my best kept secret.”
Lauren Hammond is the bestselling author of He Loves Me…He Loves You Not, If I Can’t Have You, and a few more titles. She is a literary manager for ADA Management Group and hopes to successfully run her own agency one day. When she’s not reading manuscripts or writing, she can be found at any local bookstore skimming through the YA section.
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