Empire of Desire by Rina Kent

“Let it go.”

She shakes her head, her full attention still on the counter.

“Drop it, Gwyneth.” I press on her wrist hard enough that she opens her deadly grip and releases the damp, bloodied cloth.

“Now, look at me.”

She does, though hesitantly. Fuck. The way she looks at me is so pure and fucking trusting that I don’t know why it stabs me in the goddamn chest.

“King didn’t abandon you, do you understand? It was an accident. If it were up to him, he’d wake up and get back to you. He’d never willingly leave you. If you don’t feel like visiting him, I won’t force you to, but I think he has a better chance of waking up if you keep talking to him.”

“You think?”

“I do.”

She nods meekly.

“Are we good? Have you stopped thinking he abandoned you? He’s not your mother. He hated that woman. Because fuck her. Do you hear me? Fuck her for leaving you in the streets and being a coward who ran into the night.”

“Yeah, fuck her.”

“Good.”

She smiles through her tears and I love the fucking sight of it, how the green rushes back to the surface, chasing away the gray. She never gets upset for very long. She’s always striving to move forward and trying her best to stay afloat.

Because she’s special like that.

“Hey, Nate.”

“What?”

“You didn’t comment on my language.”

“You get a pass.”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Gwyneth.”

“What? You said I get a pass.”

“Not twice.” I inspect her finger, and thankfully, it’s not bleeding anymore. “And stop hurting yourself, or I swear to fucking God…”

“What?” The word is so breathy, it’s barely audible.

She has this habit of wanting to know the consequences. Sometimes, I suspect she does it on purpose, just to see my reaction.

“Or I’ll eat you out, drive you to the edge, but will not let you come.”

“No…not that.”

“Then stop hurting yourself.”

“It’s subconscious.”

“Then make it conscious. “

“How do I do that?”

“By practicing self-control and discipline so you never spiral out of what’s expected.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t remove her hand from mine. As if this feels so fucking natural, like it does for me. “That’s not possible, Nate. People can get out of control sometimes. It’s what makes us human. If we were all perfect, it’d be like watching some sci-fi movie, which I don’t really like. I prefer horror.”

“Even though they scare you?”

“I like to live on the edge…wait. How do you know they scare me? I don’t think I’ve mentioned that to you.”

“King did.”

A smile paints her lips. “And you remembered it.”

“I have a strong memory.”

“Whatever.” She’s still smiling as she gets on her tiptoes. At her closeness, images from two years ago rush back in.

But it’s different now. So, so different.

It doesn’t feel odd or fucking disturbing that she’s close. Unlike then, I don’t question my morals or my damn humanity. They can fuck off.

Gwyneth doesn’t kiss me, not on the mouth, anyway. Her lips graze my stubble as she gets back on the soles of her feet. “Thank you for talking to me about Dad. I don’t know how I would’ve done this without you, Nate.”

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck!

I get slammed by that tinge of possessiveness that strangles the fucking life out of me.

And this time, all I can think about are the words I told my best friend the day I visited him right after I released my beast on his daughter.

I’m taking away your little angel, King, and she won’t be pure and innocent anymore, because I’m taking that away, too. I should say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I won’t apologize for what I’m about to do. I don’t know what exactly she is to me or where we’ll go from here. But I know one thing for sure.

Gwyneth is now mine.





20





Gwyneth





You know when you’re happy but feel like everything will eventually turn into an epic clusterfuck?

Yeah, that’s me right now.

Because it’s been so peaceful these last couple of days, so happy, so wholesome. Dad even moved his hand in mine when I went to visit him the day after my talk with Nate. He squeezed it, just the slightest bit, and I nearly fainted from happiness.

The doctor didn’t give me much hope and said it was most likely a subconscious motor reaction and doesn’t mean anything, but I don’t believe that. I’m sure Dad wants to wake up. Besides, he was welcoming me back because it’s been some time since I last visited him.

I apologized for wanting to bury him while he’s still alive. I told him that I didn’t mean to and that I just didn’t want him to abandon me like my mom did, and at that exact moment, he squeezed my hand.

So yeah, the doctor is wrong, because Dad was listening and responded to me, so I know he’s there, that he didn’t leave me.

That he’s not my mother.