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Neither of us talk. He won’t even look at me. Not for the first time, he seems distant. Hollow. Sometimes it feels like Rhenn is two different people. I see my own miserable life reflected through his eyes.

The similarities between us, I can’t grasp how strong they are. And when he’s vacant like this, it’s like my soul aches to find a way to reach him, no matter how terrible he’s been to me. Even as I sit here on the floor.

Why didn’t he just leave? Why won’t he say anything? And why do I even care?

This head space I’m in, it isn’t new for me. I’ve spent so much of my life lost. I wonder if he ever sees it in me too, the way I see it in him. Maybe that’s why he hates me so. I remind him of the weaker part of himself.

“You shouldn’t let that happen,” Rhenn finally speaks. “What I was doing… You usually stand up for yourself.” He lets his eyes reach mine. A blush creeps its way along my neck, and I look away.

“I knew you wouldn’t go too far.”

“That so?”

“If you’d killed me, there would be nothing left.” I lean my head against the wall, letting out a small laugh. “Maybe that is what you want.”

“It’s all I want.” There’s a flutter in my stomach from the rough timbre of his voice when he says it. I push away the feeling.

My focus flashes over him again, drowning in the tension swimming through his eyes. It’s filling the entire room. “And yet you stopped.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

RHENN

The universe has a funny way of finding amusement in the situations it throws at you. It dropped Sumner at my feet but gave her the attitude to make any man question his sanity. It left her here with nothing, keeping her at the near distance I need her. And then it busted her AC, leaving me with the options of letting her stay with me for a single night until I can get her a new one, or forcing her to melt in the humidity of the small house out back.

It’s just one night. I’d originally told her to suck it up and open a window, then she gave me those damn pouty eyes. So, I compromised. She gets the room, but she has to clean the entire house.

Surprisingly, she left all witty comments at the door and did exactly that. The place looks great, if I’m honest. I wonder how many threats it would take to have her do this regularly.

Vixen dressed as a maid while she washes the dishes is an entertaining thought.

I fiddle with my knife on the table while she does exactly that, cleaning the sink full of dishes. Minus the maid’s outfit, of course. She would sooner stab me with a sharpened spoon, which is also an entertaining thought.

Days have passed since I last lashed out. With each new sunrise, we fall little by little into what seems to have become our normal. From small passing comments to mindless conversations we somehow find easily. It’s like no matter how much we can’t stand the other, we always find a way into the other’s company. She’s resilient to me, and I am perplexed by her.

No matter what I do, how I feel, she’s become a part of everything. I don’t even notice it until the silence falls between us and I realize we’re spending more time talking than fighting. That instead of being out with my friends, my time is spent with her, the girl who ruined everything.

Lost in her own world, the cup she’s scrubbing falls from her hold, shattering at the edge of the sink. Moving to pick it up, she cuts herself on one of the smaller pieces. Sumner lifts her hand, seeing the blood trail down her finger, not even wincing from the pain.

I watch as it happens, watch the way she doesn’t flinch, but brings the wound closer to herself. Examining it. Transfixed by it. The blood trickles in a long line down her palm, spilling off her in small droplets to the floor.

She’s told me she likes pain. I wonder now if it’s because that’s the only way she can feel. It would be another thing we have in common. Lack of true emotion. She’s just as empty as I am.

I haven’t been able to figure myself out around her. I want to hate her. Hell, I do. There’s another part of me that wants to help her. To feel her. But she isn’t just any girl, and these aren’t just any desires. Sumner makes an anger I’ve never known flare inside me. She’s a brat. She’s stubborn. And yet, I’m drawn to her. She is dark, like me. Tormented. Untrusting. Only, my darkness is stronger. My hate is greater. Sumner is a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. I’ve never forgotten, and I’ll never forgive.

One thing stands between me and this girl, and that’s the past. But why did it have to be her? Why does she have to be…her?

We may be strangers, but our lives were always meant to cross.

I make my way behind her, placing my palm flat against her back. Sumner turns to face me, not startled by my presence.

Dragging my eyes between hers, I reach around her, feeling blindly for a dishrag. When I have it, I move my hand from her back, letting it slide down her arm until reaching her wrist. Sumner watches me, never looking away as I bring her injured finger to my mouth.

We stay locked on each other, nothing but the sound of our soft intermingled breaths as my tongue brushes over the line of crimson. I suck delicately against the laceration, letting her perfect flavor coat the inside of my mouth. It’s a drug like no other.

Sticky. Warm. Mine.

When I pull back, I wrap the clean dishrag around her still fresh wound.