Chapter 56 SAVE HIM WITH A KISS
Erica’s POV
“Are you jealous?” Aaron asked again.
A sneer escaped my lips as I stood up from his thighs. I didn’t know how I had instinctively provoked him into kissing me, but for some reason his lips tasted like heaven: the texture, the pressure, everything about it made my legs weak.
I forced myself to stand strong, steady. Still, I knew he could see through the façade. I blinked my lashes softly, my eyes burning. I needed to take the lenses off, but at the same time, I needed Aaron to leave.
“That’s all for tonight,” I said, stretching. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about how to deal with the Kalton matter.”
Aaron didn’t move. Instead, a slow smile tugged at his lips.
“Scram,” I snapped.
He cackled. “Really?” he asked, his gaze dragging over me from head to toe, like he wanted to melt me, crawl under my skin.
“Remove those contact lenses,” he said.
I stood my ground, placing a hand on my waist and rolling my eyes.
“I don’t have time for this,” I muttered, running my hand through my hair. “If you don’t want to leave, be my guest.”
I walked to the bed and lay down.
That was when Aaron moved.
He kicked off his shoes and strode toward me. That subtle action made me agitated, yet my heart pounded, not with anger, but something else.
“Don’t dare touch me,” I warned.
He halted for a second, then turned me over, gripping my wrists and pinning them above my head against the mattress. I bared my teeth at him.
“Let go,” I snapped.
His expression didn’t change. Cold, blank yet Empty. Like a void I couldn’t read.
His hand moved toward my face. I turned away, but he caught my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“What are you hiding, Little Bee?” he murmured.
Panic flared, but I laughed.
“Hiding? Really?” I said, trying to divert him.
It didn’t work.
His fingers moved toward my eyes. I squeezed them shut instantly. He wouldn’t dare force them open.
I felt his hot breath against my face: anger and fury wrapped in it.
Then suddenly, my wrists were free. I opened my eyes.
He was standing there, staring down at me. Those predatory eyes made me sit up abruptly.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He didn’t respond. His gaze dropped, like he was hurt and furious at the same time. Something about it felt wrong. My heart skipped in panic.
I slid off the bed, stepping onto the cold tiles with bare feet, walking toward him. He blended into the shadows, but I noticed his hands trembling.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, placing my hand on his forehead.
His body tensed instantly. I placed my other hand on my own forehead. “Do you feel feverish?”
Silence followed.
“Aaron?” I said softly, stepping closer. Suddenly his hand shot out, gripping my wrist painfully tight.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped.
He didn’t loosen his grip. “Why do you have it?” he asked.
Confusion flooded my face. “Have what?”
His laugh was dark, laced with hatred, suspicion, and restraint. My body trembled with fear for the first time around him. He was at his limit.
“Were you there when she jumped?” he growled.
My eyes widened. He had seen it, the pendant Celina’s mother had given her. She never took it off. It sat on the cupboard beside my bed. He must have noticed it earlier.
“I—I…” My lips parted.
I couldn’t die yet. I still had to avenge my death. I had to make them pay.
The murderous intent rolling off Aaron was terrifying. I finally tore my wrist free, stumbling back and crashing to the floor. A pained hiss escaped my lips.
Then he stepped out of the shadows. He pointed his pistol at me.
I heard the safety click.
My body went rigid.
“Spill,” he muttered. “Or I’ll blow your head off.”
No sound escaped me, not even a breath.
“Did you push her?” he demanded. “Were you there when she died? Did she really jump?”
He was breaking. Trembling. The pain and terror in his voice forced my lips into a tight line.
“Did she regret it?” he asked. I couldn’t tell him who I was.
“She did regret it,” I whispered.
The safety clicked again.
If I chose the wrong words, he would pull the trigger. He wasn’t thinking straight, he was devastated, drowning in rage and guilt: Probably the past. He could kill me believing I was Celina’s murderer.
“Did you push her—”
“No,” I cut in, lifting my head to meet his towering presence. “I tried to save her.”
It was the only believable lie I had. I’m sorry, I thought. I was lying to him again. He would never forgive me if he found out who I truly was.
“What?” His voice cracked. “Save her? Explain.”
He wanted me to slip.
“She was standing at the edge of the bridge,” I said slowly. “Tears streaming down her face. Regret and pain consumed her. She thought she ruined herself: disappointed everyone who cared about her. She saw death as an escape. A way to stop feeling the pain. She believed everyone hated her.”
“I never hated her,” Aaron whispered.
I froze.
“I ran miles trying to reach her,” he continued, voice shaking. “But when I got there… she was gone.”
This was the first time I had ever seen him like this: defenseless, shattered. The guilt in his eyes was undeniable.
“I should have held onto her,” he muttered. “Maybe—”
“She was a coward,” I said. He froze, staring straight into my eyes.
“She wanted to escape,” I continued softly. “But she didn’t think of the people who loved her. She was selfish.” My chest tightened with guilt as I swallowed hard.
“I tried to reach her,” I added. “But she jumped. All I could recover was her necklace.”
Horror crossed his face. “You left her to die? You didn’t call the police? You didn’t jump after her?”
I looked up. “I tried to save her. I couldn’t swim back then. And the police never found her.” Tears spilled freely out of my eyes.
Aaron stumbled. The gun slipped from his hand and hit the floor.
Something was wrong! The air wasn't tensed but sad.
He clutched his head, his hands pressing over his ears like he was trying to block something out.
“Aaron?” I called, wiping my tears.
He didn’t answer.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor, veins standing out, his eyes red and unfocused.
I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around his trembling body.
“Hey, wake up,” I pleaded.
He didn’t respond. Fear consumed me. I didn’t want to lose him.
I rushed to the bed, searching for my phone....then froze.
I didn’t know anyone’s number. I stared back at Aaron, his hands shaking, tears fell down my cheeks freely, panic crushed my chest..
I stumbled back to him. Just then, his phone rang. I grabbed it out from his pocket while holding him close.
“Hello?” I answered. Diego’s voice came through. “Erica, is My boss okay?”
My lips trembled. “No. I don’t know what’s wrong. He’s—he’s not okay.”
“Shit,” Diego cursed.
“What’s happening?” I asked desperately but the line cut off.
“Diego!” I called, but the phone had powered off.
I pulled Aaron closer.
Did this happen often? How did Diego know something was wrong?
Aaron continued trembling. I stared down at him, my mind racing, frozen with fear.
Then! It crossed my mind.
I brushed my hair back and lowered my face just enough for my lips to touch his.
“Please… please,” I whispered.
I hope this works, I thought.....And pressed my lips to his.