Summon Lyght(91)

"I'm willing to try."

"I'm not." Francis wanted to vomit. He felt like he'd given something he could never get back. And it was something he only had one to give. And now it was gone. Devoured and discarded like…waste.

"So that's it? You're just going to leave?"

Hope filled him at hearing her pain. "Do you really care?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Not really. I'm just saying it's kind of rude." She sat on the bed and laid back on her elbows and put a leg up, shamelessly showing him all her secrets. He got hard instantly. She lowered her gaze and smiled.

He was suddenly angry that she had that power. And might use it to hurt him. He put his coat on, confused with the pain. It was almost like something cut him inside.

"Fine, then just finger me before you leave." She opened and closed her drawn up leg casually.

Francis turned away from the temptation. "No. I won't just fuck you, Abigail."

She snorted. "What do you want to do? Make love?"

Her mocking tone made him want to leave immediately. "Something like that," he whispered.

She giggled. "You're really stupid enough to think I'd ever believe that bullshit?"

He looked at her, his anger kicking in. "Apparently I am. Stupid, I mean. To believe in you."

He walked to the door.

She followed. "Why the fuck would you believe in me? You don't know me."

Hand on the knob, he paused and looked at the floor between them. "I didn't just taste you tonight…" He raised his gaze, locking it firmly to hers. "I devoured your essence, Abigail. I devoured all that you are. All that you aren't. And all that you long to be, will never be, and will someday be. I drank it in to my soul. To make you mine. To cherish you. Honor you. And protect you. The way you deserve."

"You're fucking crazy if you think I'm just going to fall into your arms and trust you." She snorted. "In-fucking-sane."

"If that's your definition of crazy, then yes. I'm crazy. Crazy and stupid for loving you."

"You can't love me you barely know me!" She slammed her palms against his chest, pushing him into the door. "What is wrong with you?"

"Me?" Francis met her stare, anger taking him at her obstinacy. "Sweetheart, I'm going to be straight up with you. You're the strange one. You sit in your miserable life pretending the darkness isn't choking you, pretending you're not struggling just to fucking breathe around that shit you got in here." He pointed to her head then, her chest. "And this? In here? You guard your every shattered dream and nightmare. Who does that? I'll tell you who does that. Somebody who's weak. You can fight with your fists. Big fucking deal, that's nothing. You can't even lift your head to the past that haunts you, the broken dreams that keep you hiding away from hope and love, the darkness that embraces you like a sick lullaby and you suck on that tit like a newborn infant nursing greedily, because you would rather mope along, limping on injured limbs for the rest of your pathetic life instead of taking one chance on somebody that actually gives a real fuck about you. So, no, I'm not the strange one. You are."

Francis knew he was taking a chance going this route, but he also knew he was very close to losing her if he didn't. And too much was riding on it. Like his sanity. Just the brief moments of imagining what he shared with her as meaningless was crushing. And judging by the fury in her eyes now, he'd better pray for help.

"Who do you fucking think you are, you don't know my life!" Her words came slowly and her voice dropped like an animal about to go wild. She shoved him into the door again and pointed in his face. "Weak? I'm weak? You were the one about to cry because I didn't want to love you. You're the weak one here you bastard."

****

Dare couldn't believe he'd said those things. He was pissed, that was why, he was just pissed, what the fuck did he know and why was he staring at her that way, like she'd just slapped his face?

"Bastard?"

What? Did he not know what the word meant? "Yes, bastard, as in your father is a useless piece of shit---"

Dare couldn't finish her sentence because Francis had pinned her to the wall by her neck. Suspended. She clutched his hand and stared into his eyes that had gone eerily red. "My father…" whatever he was going to say never made it past his lips that had gone hard. God his lips. She wanted to taste them again.

Panic suddenly flooded her system as her need for oxygen grew. By the time he released her, fury had replaced all the good feelings and she launched a physical assault on him. Only he blocked every attempt with no effort, even seemed to enjoy the nude show she put on. She finally screamed in frustration. "What are you? What the fuck are you? What do you want from me?"