Chapter 83

Chapter 83
Her legs were up before she knew it, carrying her to the exit. No explanation. No apologies. Elvie felt his grave steps thumping in her hollow chest as he followed her out. It was raining outside—the kind of dirty, humid rain to break the pulses of summer heat. It reminded her of the day they’d met at the university, of the carnal desperation that ate at her back then, and of the fact that she was still alone.

Elvie felt his hand on my shoulder as he swivelled her around sharply. He jerked her into his arms.

I didn’t want him to let go.

I didn’t want him to keep me there, either. She thought.

“I wish I’d never met you.” My fists pounded his chest, and he took it. Maybe because he knew he deserved it. His mouth pressed against my cheek felt like a rusty, hot blade. The world felt like it was ending, even though I knew it couldn’t be.

The vane of his breath sliced through my ear. “I wish that, too.”

That night, the sex was different.

Slow, intense, and angry. Every thrust was a punishment, each rake of her fingernails against his skin a reminder that she, too, could hurt him. They didn’t talk about it. Not even when tears rolled down her cheeks and he kissed them, then licked them, then drank them thirstily, for they were his.

That night, they ended things differently, too.

He was sound asleep when she collected the few belongings she had and called a cab to the mansion. It was going to cost a pretty penny, but she didn’t want to be there when he woke up.

Later that night, Elvie had a strange, sombre epiphany.

Almera was right. She was a mortal playing with a deity, and now she was getting hurt while he remained intact. There was nothing wrong with her heart. It was not lonely, and it was definitely not a hunter. It had been hunted. There was only one problem with the fact that her heart was so dreadfully, unexpectedly normal.

Somewhere along the way, it had stopped being hers.



There was nothing better than a fresh cup of coffee in the morning and getting Matheo’s assistant fired from her job.

Zander handed Bella my planner. “Burn today’s page. I have some shit to do.” It was an exact, albeit unprofessional order.

Specifically, said shit was going to every bigwig who’d denied his request to cancel the new ad campaign and showing them the plummeting ratings chart he'd printed out as a last attempt to save this sinking ship.

Zander might have been a bit dramatic last Friday night when he’d spoken to Elvie.

Quitting SBC was not on the cards for him any time soon, with or without the new ads, but he didn’t want to lie to her either. And he was listening to other offers, mainly so the bigwigs would get tipped by their moles and realise he was serious about leaving if they didn’t get their ducks in a row.

Getting Matheo’s assistant fired by talking to his friend and telling him the fucker had tried to win Elvie’s wasn’t necessary, but it was definitely a nice bonus. Zander’s friend, who was a fellow Harvard graduate, wasn’t impressed by Matheo's assistant’s antics. Also, Joey, Elvie’s brother, was apparently on Zander’s team because he’d chosen to share this piece of information with him in the first place. After all, now that Joey’s out of drugs, he told him that he wasn't involved in the accident. He believed him.

As for Elvie, Zander needed to get his head out of his ass, take her to lunch, and apologise for being his bastard self. Again. She’d taken a cab back in the middle of the night after they left things—though not orgasms—unfinished.

“Yes, sir. Oh, and sir, Miss Davis is here.” Bella jotted down his orders for the morning.

Zander took a sip of his coffee and gathered this week’s statistics in a big, fat file. “Kristal?” he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes sir. She was wondering if you could be Louise to her Thelma.”

He looked up and caught her nibbling at her lower lip, biting on a huge smile. Zander smirked. Touché. She was beginning to fight, something she never would have done if it wasn’t for Elvie.

As for the matter at hand, Kristal must have been quite drunk, because there was no way in hell and its neighbouring sections she had the balls to come here. Shit. It was nine in the morning.

“Impossible. She knows she’s one step away from a restraining order.” Plus, he very much doubted Kristal got up before noon. If hedonism were a job, the bitch would be Mark Zuckerberg.

“Well, she is, and she’s in tears.”

“I’m more interested to know if she’s in clothes.” Zander slid the file into his leather briefcase.

Bella blinked at her, cocking her head sideways. “Yes, sir, she’s clothed.”

He snapped his fingers towards the door. “Send her in.”

A minute later, Kristal stood in his office, still in her nightgown and a jacket. She sniffled, her tears coming down like a broken faucet. She wiped her cheeks and nose with the sleeve of her jacket and looked like hell, but not in a way that concerned Zander.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Grandmother died.” She choked on a sob.

Zander stood, rushing to her. For all the shit she’d put him through, he hated to see anyone going through losing someone important to them. He cared about Madelyn deeply, and he hadn’t gotten to say goodbye to her. She hadn’t even known he was there.

He’d disappeared from the entire Davis family because he hated their daughter and was too busy licking his wounds.

Zander pulled Kristal into a hug, and she buried her face in his chest and howled—the kind of yelp that ripped your chest open.

He cupped the back of her head. She swayed from side to side in his arms.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he whispered. He was. And it made him feel oddly human.

“I don’t know what to do,” she sniffed, rays of the old Kristal—the one he’d actually liked—seeping through the cracks of her botoxed exterior. “Will you come to the funeral?”

“Of course.”

Her thigh nestled between him, and he hated it, and he couldn’t stop it, and he hated that even more. Because if it wasn’t intentional, he would never forgive himself for pushing her away.

“Anything your family needs, I’m here.”

“Will you come today? Talk to Dad? He’s really beside himself. Mom, too. We feel like you are a part of us. Because for the longest time, you were. Grams loved you so much.

“Not a good idea, everything considered.”

She looked up and blinked at him.

“The item in the paper,” he clipped. You leaked, and he refrained from adding. If he brought it up, he’d have to tell her what he thought about her version of their story, and now wasn’t the place and certainly not the time.

“Oh, I talked to them. They’re willing to forgive you.” She disconnected from him to wipe her tears quickly.

And the botoxed bitch returns. “How kind of them.” Zander’s sarcasm was pretty much dripping on the floor.

He glanced at his watch behind her back. He needed to get those reports out. At the same time, he couldn’t go about his day or business as usual.

Maybe because he’d tried to do it when his parents died.

Went back to the office after the weekend of their funeral.

Buried himself at work.

Didn’t talk about it with anyone.

Built a higher, stronger, thicker wall between him and the world, making sure no one could get through it.

His parents hadn’t deserved it. Hell, Madelyn hadn’t either. After all, she was the woman who’d given him the very best advice he’d never bothered to take. It was after we’d exited Phantom of the Opera, arm in arm. They’d sauntered into our favourite Italian restaurant. She’d asked him if he thought he’d marry her granddaughter’s Kristal.

“Probably. It’s what was expected of me.”

“But what do you want?”

“To make Kristal happy.” And his parents, who might finally accept him for making the right decision. And my mother, who normally cares about his personal life,

“And yourself? Do you want to make yourself happy?” 

“I don’t think I can be.” Zander hadn’t. Not then, and not now.

Madelyn’s face had fallen, and she’d squeezed his bicep between her fragile fingers. “Then you need to keep looking, because my granddaughter isn’t the one.”

“I’ll come,” he told Kristal, taking a step back. Fuck the bigwigs and fuck the network. He needed to pay respects to the woman who’d put his happiness before her family’s.

Kristal’s red claws sunk into his skin, and she pulled him into an octopus hug.

“Thank you.”