His to Keep by Lydia Goodfellow
Chapter Twenty-Four
It’s mid-January now, which marks my seventh month here. Like promised, I don’t get out of bed, only to use the bathroom or to shower, in which Callum carefully carries me to and from like I’m fragile and could easily break. Despite looking after me, he’s still distant with me, barely speaking and not coming near me unless he must. It’s beginning to remind me of how he was when I first came here. The silence and persistent space he put between us back then is the same as it is now.
Finally, after what feels like the longest time being sick, I get better, my strength eventually returning. Though, it still hurts to breathe at times. When Callum’s close and all I can think about is kissing him—for not even being sick has diminished my feelings for him. It’s only intensified them. Formed a deep ache in the bottom of my stomach.
What if it’s not the same for him anymore?
But I’ve other worries. Like tonight, after being happily away from them for weeks, will be my first meal with the family. And I’m not looking forward to it. I would almost take being bed-bound with a nasty flu than sit and eat with the monsters who are making me suffer.
I sigh, shaking my head from my thoughts. Callum’s sketching in his book at his desk. Something, I realize, he hasn’t done in a while. I’m staring out of the window, nothing but white outside. Thick, undisturbed snow covering the ground and trees, the winter’s sun doing little to melt the icy wonderland away.
Turning away from the sight, my eyes slowly drift to Callum, like they seem to constantly do. My insides clench, my stomach doing a funny little flip at the concentration on his face. The way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, pencil shading parts of his skin.
Nibbling on my bottom lip, I sidle up behind him and place my hands on his shoulders. His body jerks, and he slam’s the book closed, even though he should know by now that I’d never look without his permission.
“Ava.” His tone is full of warning, and I drop my hands, frowning down at him. What’s wrong with him? Why is he so tense and closed off? Anger comes unexpectedly, like it was always there, ready to explode out of me.
“You don’t have to be such a jerk!” Turning on my heel, I stomp over to the door, knowing I’m acting like a petulant child but not being able to help it. He’s pushing me away, and I don’t know why or what I’ve done wrong.
“Where are you going?” he asks as I wrench the door open.
“Away from you,” I toss over my shoulder. “Don’t follow me.”
With that, I walk out, slamming the door after me. But I stop halfway down the corridor, wariness puncturing my anger. What if Father Aaron’s lurking somewhere? John?
Craning my neck, I peer down the hall to where his bedroom is. Everything’s quiet—the whole house is. While it’s unsettling, knowing I don’t want to go back into the bedroom, I go downstairs, keeping an eye out for anyone who may be there. No one is, and I end up back in the library, the only place I like in this house.
Opening the door, I’m relieved that nobody’s in here. The fire is lit, and the chaise next to it looks inviting. I yearn to curl up on it and read a book. Allow my mind to drift from Callum and how he’s acting toward me since I got sick. Deciding to do just that, I go over to a random shelf. Closing my eyes, I move my finger along the titles, picking out a book at random. I smile at the cutesy book cover of a western romance and go over to the chaise to read. Sitting down, I open to the first page, and then I’m lost in a world of cowboys fighting over a widowed damsel with a fiery attitude. I’m so engrossed in my reading that I don’t realize I’m being watched until it’s too late.
“I’m glad to see you well again,” Father Aaron startles me enough to gasp. He’s standing in the doorway, shoulder against the frame. How long has he been there? “Do you like this room?”
I nod anxiously. “Y-yes.”
“Address me properly.”
“Yes, my Lord,” I quickly add. Even though I remember Callum telling me that he never comes in here, Father Aaron walks inside, a deadly gleam in his eye as he stares at me. I’m rooted to the seat, my heart now thumping hard.
“I was going to wait until dinnertime, but since we’re here now, I’d like to tell you that the ceremony is only a few months from now.”
Months.
My body shakes as he sits next to me and grabs the book I was reading. When he throws it to the floor, I’m frozen, wishing I hadn’t come down here. How could I be so stupid?
As he touches my hair, his knuckle purposefully touches my breast. My stomach turns. Don’t move. I know if I do, he’ll hurt me far worse than the disgusting petting he’s doing now. The way he looks at me, coldness in his eyes, I know the punishment will be severe if I push him. The cross he carved into my arm stings, even though it’s long since healed—a reminder that he won’t think twice about using his knife on me again.
“Even the length of time you’ve been here, you’ve become magnificently beautiful. It’s hard to contain myself.” Reaching between his legs, he grabs his large erection over his pants and strokes himself up and down. I’m so shocked by him doing it, I freeze. “Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil….” With his other hand, he reaches inside my dress and grabs my breast, squeezing it hard. My heart stops, wanting badly to smack him across his face. To yell at him to get the hell off me. “Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
“My Lord,” I whisper, swallowing back vomit as he strokes himself and painfully tweaks my nipple. “Y-you must wait for the ceremony.”
He removes his hand, but before I can feel relief, his hand drops to my thigh and starts inching under my dress. As his hand skims my skin, his eyes hood with devil lust as his other hand moves a bit faster. My eyes sting with tears. Think, Ava, think. “T-think of his Greatness. He wouldn’t want you to commit sin before the time comes. Please.”
His face falls, and he grits his teeth, cold blue eyes becoming stormy with anger. Growling out menacingly, I cower as he rips himself away from me.
“Seductress!” he growls at me. “Oh, how Brother Joseph warned me of your wickedness” He whirls around to me. “Apologize!”
“I’m…I’m sorry.”
“Go back to your room and stay there until dinner.” Getting up, I flee from the library, running upstairs and back to the bedroom. Throwing open the door, I collide with Callum, who grabs me to steady us both from toppling over.
“I was just coming to find you—”
Shoving him back, I smack his chest. Surprise flitters across his eyes, but I’m so angry and upset that I can’t stop myself. “Don’t ever let me go out there alone again!” I yell at him like it’s his fault when I know it’s not. “If you hadn’t been so cold toward me, then I wouldn’t have left!”
“What happened?” he demands, pulling me back when I go to walk away from him. “Tell me.”
“Your father. He…he—Oh!” I scream out instead, overwhelmed by everything. “Just leave me alone! All of you leave me the hell alone!” Pushing him away, I run into the bathroom and slam the door in his face. Slumping back against it, tears prick my eyes but don’t fall. I’m too angry to let them.
Callum knocks on the door behind me. “Can I come in?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been distant.” He sighs. “I’m just…I’m sick of this place.”
Wrenching the door open, he takes a step back warily, probably from the thunder I know is raging in my eyes. “You’re sick of this place? What about me? I miss my life! I miss my home!” Lies, lies, lies. I almost gag at my words. Do I miss home?
My heart feels nothing by the very mention of it, of going back to Gran, who hasn’t looked for me. To parents who are only obligated to check in on holidays, but any other time, don’t care. My chest squeezes, the truth right there. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to go home either. I don’t have a life to go back to. I was just as trapped there as I am here. Nowhere I belong.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and my chest swirls with guilt and hurt. Stepping toward me, he gathers me in his arms and holds me against him. At first, I stand there, but then I give in and wrap my arms around his waist, smothering my face into his chest. I didn’t realize how much I needed this—his embrace. Having someone to tug me away from the numbness.
“Why are you so distant?”
“Because I have to be.” His chest lifts and falls in a deep breath, and I hear every trace of frustration in it. “You got sick after I touched you.”
Pulling away, I lift my head to look into his eyes. They’re angry and sad. Reaching up, I cup his face with my hands. He doesn’t flinch nor pull away this time, which I’m glad for. I don’t think I could take any more of his rejection. Not when the reality of my life is finally taking center stage. “It was a coincidence, Callum, that’s all. I was cold before the fires were lit. I was bound to get sick.”
“I know that…” His eyes are still clouded with thoughts that I wish he’d stop thinking. Knowing nothing I say will make him stop believing some unknown force was punishing him for going near me. “But when you fell down the stairs, I thought you’d broken your neck when I saw you lying there. I should’ve been there when you woke up, and I wasn’t. I thought I’d lost you.”
“You’re afraid of losing me?” I whisper, heart pounding in my throat. He nods but doesn’t say anything else. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
He stares down at me with a frown now. One of confusion. “You can’t promise that.”
Letting go of him, I sit on the bed. “I know how that sounds. Why would I say that when you think freedom is what I want most in the world? But I lied to you about things on the outside.”
“What do you mean?
“You probably have this illusion in your head of me and what I was like out there. But I wasn’t the girl you imagine. I was you. We’re more alike than you think.” He sits next to me as tears well behind my eyelids. I don’t want to cry, but I’ve never been this honest with myself or anybody before. “The truth is, I don’t have friends. Not even one. I pushed them all away because of fear. Since my grandpa died, my grandmother has starved me of life with rules and abuse. My parents have neglected me since I was ten. I don’t miss my home, Callum. Because it’s never felt like it. At least, not until I met you.” He goes still next to me, and I know how wrong my words are, but I’ve never had so much clarity about anything in my life. “You feel like home.”
“Ava, I—”
“Stop,” I say, closing my eyes briefly, not wanting to hear the words I know he’s about to say. We can’t. We mustn’t. You don’t want me to be your home. Don’t I already know that? “Don’t say anything. I’m not expecting you to feel that way back. I was only telling you how I feel.”
Closing his mouth, he looks away, and my heart sinks deeper. They say the truth can set you free, but I’ve never felt more trapped than I do now by his silence.
* * *
When the snoweventually melts a few weeks later, Father Aaron tells Callum that he can finally take me outside. At first, I think maybe he feels guilt for touching me in the library, and it’s the only reason he’s letting me out. Then I scoff at myself, at my stupid naivety, knowing Father Aaron isn’t anything other than a soulless creature with zero remorse or humanity.
Time. So much has changed in what feels like so little. Like it was only yesterday that I got into Father Aaron’s car and was taken here. And now look at me. Dressed up like a doll that he’s probably watching from the window. A smirk beaming on his face, knowing there’s no nook or cranny I can try and escape through. I guess suffering has made the days blend together. Days pass by and wait for no one to catch up. I know I haven’t—I’m still grappling to hold on.
Leading the way, Callum takes me downstairs. The front door’s already open, a crisp breeze blowing inside and cleansing the air of its mustiness. It’s not warm, but it’s not freezing either as I step over the threshold, welcoming the sunshine on my pale face. I’m almost dizzy from fresh air as I follow Callum to the back of the house where the trees are thicker. That’s when I spy that we’re heading toward a trail leading into the woods. Although knowing we can’t get further than the fence, I’m glad to be outside. Maybe it’s falling into line, but Callum and I deserve a respite from misery.
“I actually dreamed of the woods last night,” I find myself saying openly as we walk along the trail with trees on either side. “You were in it.”
“Me?” Callum walks ahead, and I can’t help rolling my eyes, wishing he’d stop sounding surprised that he’s in my head and someone I constantly dream about.
“Yes. You were there next to me, and then suddenly you weren’t, and I was lost. Trying to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. I guess it turned into a bit of a nightmare.”
He turns to me then and stops. “Ah, but what if it was because I was trying to find you first?” My chest deflates, and I bow my head. “Look at me,” he demands, and when I meet his eyes, he’s facing me. Glowering at me. Enough to send a rush of shivers down my back. “I want you. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you…”
I swallow hard. “But?”
“But I can’t.” My mood darkens at his words.
“Fine!” Going off the trail, I bat branches away from my face as I weave between trees. Going nowhere but somewhere. Anywhere.
“Ava,” Callum calls from somewhere behind me, but I ignore him, just needing to get away from him even though I hear him following. The terrain is uneven here, and my feet sink into moss as I march away. A rock hidden beneath the green marsh catches my foot, and I brace myself to fall. A hand grabs me around the waist, stopping me from falling.
“Ava, stop.” Twirling in his arms, I push him back. Stumbling, he grabs a thin tree just in time to avoid falling. At first, he looks bewildered until his eyebrows drop, and he glares at me. “What is your problem?”
“You are my problem. You want me, and then you don’t. It’s confusing. You’re being nice one minute and then not. I know I shouldn’t want you either. I should hate you, and right now, maybe I do!”
Turning away from him, I go deeper into the woods. Thinking he might just ditch me, I’m surprised when I hear him following again. Though, he doesn’t try to grab me again, even when I trip over a branch I don’t see and fall on my hands and knees. Huffing out in frustration, I get up and continue.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says behind me.
“Like you care.”
He grabs me then, turning me around so fast I slam into his chest. “I care! I care more than I should. But we’ve been stupid gambling with your life, and you know it.”
“Or maybe you’re just weak.” Eyes flaring, he suddenly grabs me around the throat. His grip is tight but not painful, and I smirk up at him spitefully, knowing exactly what I just did. Poked the flames I know simmer inside of him. I want to push him. Get an emotional reaction from him. Something real. Even though this isn’t me.
“Weak?” he repeats and then laughs coldly, pushing me back. Gasping, I’m suddenly on the ground, and he’s there, on top of me. I smack his shoulders, but he grabs my wrists and pins them into the dirt above my head. “Tell me how I’m weak. Go ahead.”
“Yo—you never take what you want. Never go against your father. Why? Why won’t you take me?” I almost yell at him, hurt by his torment of wanting me and then not. We glare at each other, both our breathing heavy.
Suddenly, his mouth slams against mine, and he kisses the life right out of my soul. I’m so shocked. All I can do is lie there as he moans into my mouth, tongue pushing past my teeth to touch mine. I shiver all over, especially when he pulls away and says, “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”
Running my hands through his hair, I tug him forward, and our lips meet again. This time I’m the one groaning, his scent and taste intoxicating me. Gripping my thighs, he pulls them apart, pressing closer into me. I shudder. He’s hard as he leans into me more, face twisted with pleasure and anger and need.
“You like this? You like me kissing and touching you like this?” Frantically, I nod, and his hand goes back around my throat. This time a tiny bit tighter, his fingers applying pressure against my windpipe. “Then I think you are the one who is weak.”
My breath shudders as he rocks into me again. Whining, it seems my body wants to do its own thing as I lift my hips to meet him, my eyes rolling back when it only intensifies the sensation. “I…I am. I’m weak for you.”
He nips at my chin before pulling himself up to kneel in front of me. Flushing at my legs spread before him, the skirt of my dress now at my hips, the way he’s staring down at me makes my heart thump so hard you can physically see it. And he does, his eyes like fire on water.
Breathing out heavily through his nose, he tears his gaze off me to quickly look around the woods. Satisfied that we’re not being watched, his fingers hook the sides of my panties, and he takes them off. Cool air licks the burning flesh between my legs. Trees sway above us, and I’m there with them, swishing high above, almost touching the clouds.
Dropping his hand, he touches my sex. I inhale sharply as his lips part at how wet I am. Licking his lips, he looks into my eyes. “I’ve been dying to taste you.”
My lower belly coils, remembering how he used his mouth in the shower. “Taste w-where?”
The corner of his lip lifts as he cups me down there. “Here.”
Oh. The thought of him down there does insane things to my insides. I’m both nervous and excited as he lowers himself until he’s where I never knew a man could be. Sinking my hands into the soil, I grab handfuls of moss and dead leaves as he kisses along my inner thigh.
“Callum,” I groan, knowing my cheeks are as rosy as his. Flicking out his tongue, he licks me first. Slow, gentle. Then his mouth covers me, and I’m as lost as I was in my dream.
Arching my back, he puts his hand flat against my stomach to keep me in place as he sucks and licks, tongue swirling around my clit.
“Ohhh,” I cry out. Bird’s wings flap away from a nearby tree. It makes me jump, but he keeps me in place, continuing to show me how weak I am under him.
When a deep, husky moan comes from his throat, it vibrates through my core, and I buck upward. Throwing my head to the side, I breathe out heavily with my eyes closed, buried in sensation and tingles.
“Don’t…stop.” My hips begin to move on their own, and his tongue meets my every movement, electrifying what I now know to be an orgasm building. And I don’t last. With one final brush of his tongue, I come so hard I cry out. Pleasure hits me in waves until I’m left shaking and panting on the forest floor.
Leaning up and wiping his mouth, Callum slides my panties back up my legs and pulls down my skirt. Helping me stand, my bones rattle as I try to gather my bearings.
Woods. Here. Him.
“We should get back,” he says, removing a leaf and a twig from my hair. Pinching my chin, he leans in and kisses me again. Eyelids fluttering closed, I taste him and myself on his tongue. It should be repulsing, but it strangely isn’t.
Clinging onto his shirt, I don’t want this moment to end, knowing he could slip away from me again. I’m uneasy about my feelings for him and what I’m allowing to happen between us. What I keep pushing to happen. Is it loneliness? Fear? Or am I going crazy?
As I follow Callum back to the house, after locking our feelings away behind the masks we put back into place, I think that I must be crazy. For only a crazy person would think she loves the son of a man who kidnapped her, who will watch him as he turns her world upside down and do nothing.
Love is crazy, and I’m crazily in love with Callum.