Chapter 14 GOOD BOY
AARON’S POV
I couldn’t sleep. My mind wouldn’t shut up.
I kicked the sheets off, ran a hand over my face, and got up. Every damn thought led back to her, Erica. So I walked to her room. Privacy? That word’s never been in my vocabulary.
I opened the door.
She was tangled in the sheets, sweating, her face tight with discomfort. Her breathing was uneven, her lips twitching in distress. She looked… fragile, scared, weak so vulnerable
I hated that she reminded me of Celina, same softness in her voice, same way her brows creased when she dreamed. But Erica was more stronger, sharper.
I turned to leave, disgust curling in my chest, until her hand shot out, gripping my shirt.
“Aaron?”
Her voice—soft, broken, barely above a whisper.
I froze.
She smiled faintly, eyes still half-closed. “Am I dreaming…?” she muttered, pulling me closer. “It’s my dream, isn’t it?”
Before I could react, she tugged on my tie, dragging me down onto the bed.
Her lips brushed mine....fleeting and warm. Then she whispered against my ear, “I’m so...”
I tilted my head slightly, smirking. “Hmm. You do all this just to kiss me, or what?”
Her eyes flew open. Reality hit her fast. She shoved me off and scrambled backward, face pale and horrified.
My gaze trailed down before I could stop it, the thin nightgown clinging to her, nearly see-through. I could see everything, even those pink nle of hers. But instead of desire, disgust burned through me.
“Do you really have to do this just to get my attent—”
“Pervert!” she screamed.
I froze, then smiled, slow and dangerous.
“Should I remind you why we’re here in the first place?” I asked, taking a step closer.
“Stay back,” she snapped.That defiance made my grin widen.
“I like your kind,” I said, my tone low, taunting. “Fcking you would be… interesting.”
She stood, about to bolt, but I caught her wrist and yanked her back. Her body slammed into my chest. She was small, but her fire, that sharp tongue—could slice through steel.
I lifted her chin with my thumb, forcing her to look at me. “Let go,” she hissed.
I studied her face, that stubborn glare, that trembling jaw. Pretty, but she wasn't Celina. No one could ever be Celina. My breath brushed her ear as I whispered, “You’re the one who said you wanted to see how big my cck was. Isn’t this the perfect time?”
Her knee shot up ready to kick my groin, but I caught her leg midair, gripping her thigh tightly.
“Hmm,” I murmured, dragging my nose along her neck. Her scent hit me like a curse. Celina. She smelled just like her.
My eyes snapped open, rage surging, why did she smell like her. Was she trying to make me forget Celina?Not in my bed, not in my heart, not anywhere.
My hand moved to her throat, yet she didn’t flinch, even when I tightened my grip.
Celina’s grave flashed in my mind, the way I visited it every damn year. She’d died because I couldn’t find her, I didn't run fast enough to save her. Because I didn’t tell her the truth about Carter. I had wanted her happiness, and that destroyed her.
Every year at her grave, there were always flowers. Not mine but someone else’s. Always the same kind: red spider lilies....flowers of death, shame, and rebirth. Mockery in bloom. They had meaning.
So I installed cameras.
Erica never knew I’d been watching her, how she visited that grave, how she cried when she thought she was alone. I’d seen it all through the smoke of my cigarette, watching her right their in the cementry.
“What’s your connection to Celina?” I had wondered.
But one thing was clear, she wasn’t against her. Still… if she ever crossed me, I’d end her with one bullet.
“Who are you?” I asked now, my voice low, dangerous.
She didn’t even blink.
“Kill me, Aaron,” she said, her voice trembling but steady. “That would be easy. Let Celina watch from heaven what you’ve become.”
My jaw clenched hard. I gripped tighter, but her defiance didn’t waver.
“I’m on Celina’s side,” she whispered. “You don’t want her ghost to despise you, do you? She told me you were her number one. Her friend. Someone she adored. But look at you—choking a friend of hers. How pathetic.”
Her words cracked something inside me. I could’ve snapped her neck right then, but she was useful.
I let go. Slowly.
Even in death, Celina’s friends were my allies and her enemies were mine.
“If I find out you’re lying,” I said darkly, “that pretty face of yours will be found cold and lifeless.”
She smiled faintly, rubbing her neck. Her gaze didn’t soften... it burned.
“Tell me, Aaron,” she said, stepping closer, “why are you so hell-bent on her?”
I didn’t answer, instead I turned to the door.
“She’d be proud, you know,” Erica continued, her tone calm, haunting. “She still has someone who cares. I thought everyone had forgotten her. I’m glad someone didn’t.”
I paused mid-step.
Her voice softened, she was close now, her hand touched my shoulder, tapping lightly.
“Good boy,” she murmured. “You must’ve suffered more than she did. She’s probably regretting that jump… but she’d be grateful for you. You’ve done enough. You can stop hurting now.”
I froze. Her words, her tone, it was Celina’s favourite word for me.
“Good boy.” The words I had once lived for
And suddenly… I couldn’t breathe.