Page 21 of Absolution (Favorite Malady Trilogy #3)

DANE

I ’ve almost finished packing when Abigail enters our bedroom. Pure panic threatens to rise up and choke off my ability to breathe, but I ruthlessly shove it down.

I’m cold, unfeeling. A monster in human skin.

This is my natural state, the way I’m meant to be.

But nothing feels natural about being coldly calculating with Abigail.

Not anymore.

She notes the large leather duffel bag in my hand, and her brows knit above her red-rimmed eyes.

Her cheeks are chalk white, and her sable hair is disheveled, as though she’s been running her hands through it repeatedly.

The perfect purple curl is broken and snarled.

My fingers itch with the desire to smooth it.

I tighten my fist around the strap of the bag.

“Are we going somewhere?” Her melodic voice is heavy with exhaustion, but her guileless eyes are clear and trusting.

“No.” The refusal is cold and terse.

She edges back slightly, as though my tone is cutting into her delicate skin.

“Then why are you packing?”

“I’m leaving,” I explain, icy and unperturbed. “My lawyer is drawing up the paperwork now. You’ll have the house and enough money to live comfortably. The rent for your gallery will be paid.”

She looks as though I’ve punched her in the gut. She hugs her arms around her middle, clutching at the invisible damage I’m inflicting.

I force myself to blink away the anguish that threatens to tighten my stony expression.

For Abigail, I’ll curb my most selfish impulses. I covet and crave the feelings she brings out in me, but I can’t allow myself to indulge in them any longer.

I can’t indulge myself in her.

“What are you talking about?” she asks in a horrified whisper.

“I’m divorcing you. The paperwork will be straightforward enough. All you have to do is sign when it arrives, and then a courier will deliver it to me to countersign.”

Her eyes shine. “Why are you saying these awful things? Stop it right now, Dane.”

I won’t stop. I can’t.

My gut twists in agony, but I manage to shrug and stride for the bedroom door.

Her dainty hand closes around my forearm, so weak and fragile. But I can’t quite manage to wrench my arm free from her grip. Her touch burns me like a brand, but I don’t allow so much as a flicker of pain to cross my face.

“Where are you going?” she demands.

“To England. I’m going home.”

The word is ashes on my tongue. The manor where I was raised isn’t my home. But I’ll walk into the cage my parents have built for me. It’s my penance, even though no amount of suffering will be enough after my crimes against her.

“What? No!” Her fingernails dig into my arm. “I won’t let you go back there. You only just got free of your family. I won’t let them hurt you.”

I draw on long years of practice to force my lip to curl in a sneer. “As though you could do anything to protect me. You’re weak, Abigail. Stop posturing. It’s pathetic.”

Her soft gasp knifes through my heart.

“You don’t mean that,” she whispers. “Why are you being like this? Talk to me.”

I scoff. “All you ever want to do is talk. I’m sick of hearing your whining. I’m leaving, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

I wrench my arm free from her grip, and her grasping nails seem to score my flesh to the bone.

“No!” she insists, stumbling after me as I walk out of the bedroom.

I can’t turn to look at her. I can’t bear to face her, or I’ll break. Her tears will shatter me.

I’ve always vowed to protect her. At first, it was a sadistic game designed to lure her in and gain her trust. But over time, it became my entire reason for being.

She is my only reason for existence. My heart beats for her, and I don’t know if I’ll be capable of breathing once I leave her sweet scent behind.

The prospect of spending the rest of my life without her makes whatever I have of a soul scream in agony.

The pain is far less than I deserve.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” she seethes, following me down the stairs. “I won’t let you do this.”

I’m beyond words now. I’ve said every cruel thing I could muster. She’ll have to stew in it. She’ll learn to hate me in time.

“You promised!” she shouts raggedly. “You promised yourself to me. You’re mine, Dane Graham.”

I can’t stop my body from reeling like she’s landed a physical blow. My sweet Abigail is every bit as fiercely possessive of me as I am of her. She’s my perfect match, my everything.

My fingers tremble slightly as I reach for the handle on our front door.

“Look at you,” she accuses. “You’re shaking. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I know you don’t want to.”

I turn the knob.

“I love you!” She flings it at me like a dagger.

The blade hits its mark deep in my chest, and I can’t suppress a pained grunt.

She wedges herself between me and the exit, pressing her back against the door to prevent me from opening it. Her small hand rests directly on my heart, and I can practically feel her looping a cord over it, tethering me to her.

“I can’t stay.” The admission is gruff.

I’m wavering. I can’t waver.

“Step aside.” There’s no force in the breathless order. “You have to let me leave.”

I’m not commanding; I’m begging.

Her other hand comes up to cup my cheek, grounding me to her. “No.” Her stunning aqua eyes search mine. “Tell me why you’re doing this.”

“I’m saving you!” I thunder. “I promised to always protect you. I’m the most dangerous person you’ve ever met. I’m sadistic and selfish, and I’ve wronged you in ways you can’t even imagine. I’ve hurt you, Abigail. Just like all the other men who’ve hurt you. I have to protect you from me .”

Her petal pink lips part, but she doesn’t have an opportunity to speak before I barrel on.

“You said men see you as prey. Well, I’m the worst predator you’ve ever encountered. Do you know how much pleasure I derived from hunting you? Trapping you? I bound you to me in every way I could, and I never intended to let you go. You were right: you never had a choice.”

Her brows draw together in determined slashes. “You’re wrong. I chose you. You know how stubborn I am. I could’ve fought you for the rest of my life, but I married you instead.”

“Abigail—”

“No. It’s my turn to speak. Do you know what my plan was back in England, when I first woke up in your family home? I was going to prove to you that I didn’t love you. I was convinced that you would tire of me if I showed you how much I reviled you.

“But I failed miserably, because even when I was terrified and enraged, I never stopped loving you. I’m not capable of it.”

“That’s because I warped you,” I growl. “You don’t love me. You can’t. Because you don’t know the real me. You’ve never wanted to truly see me for what I am.”

She tips her chin back. “And what is that?”

“Your worst nightmare. All the terrible things other men have done to you when they’ve violated you is nothing compared to how I’ve treated you. I wanted you, so I took you. Like you’re a toy I could play with.”

“Stop it,” she seethes. “You’re trying to be cruel and push me away again.

I won’t allow you to do that. I know you care for me.

Possibly more deeply than you understand.

I’m not a fool. I know you’re obsessed with me, and our connection is twisted.

That doesn’t make it any less real. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. ”

“I’m your stalker!” I lash out in a final, desperate attempt to force her to see reason.

“I’m the masked man who attacked you in your own home and violated you in the worst way.

We’ve never talked about what happened that day when you discovered the truth of what I am.

I was violent with you. I choked you out and restrained you so that you couldn’t run away from me. I drugged you and held you captive.”

She flinches, and her eyes tighten with an echo of horror at the memory.

“And even as I broke you piece by piece, I claimed to be your protector. I deluded us both. I won’t cause you another ounce of pain. The only way I can guarantee that is to extricate myself from your life. You’ll be better off without me. You’ll be free.”

Her delicate jaw firms. “You have freed me. Before you came into my life, I hated myself. I was disgusted by my dark urges. After what happened with Tom, I was in survival mode, just making it through every day through sheer force of will. But that was all a cheery, pretty lie.” Her voice becomes more ragged.

“I was alone. I’ve been alone all my life.

Now I have you. We belong to each other. We’re supposed to be together.

“You say you can’t live without me. I refuse to live without you. If you go to England, I’ll follow. I’ll move into that awful manor, and we will suffer through every day of it together. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

My voice drops to a more dangerous register. “Can’t I?”

She shakes her head in staunch refusal. “No, you can’t. You can manhandle me. You can tie me up if you want to. But you won’t. Not if I don’t consent. I hold all the power here, Dane.”

“You can’t forgive what I’ve done to you,” I insist, even though my chest tightens with longing.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m your queen, aren’t I? I demand that you stay. You will accept my forgiveness. You’re the one who doesn’t have a choice. Because I’m not letting you go.”

My knees fold, and I’m kneeling before her. I grasp her hands in mine and press reverent kisses to her knuckles, paying fealty to my queen. My goddess.

“We’re equals, even if I do hold all the power,” she insists, grabbing my shoulders in an effort to pull me to my feet.

“No, we’re not,” I declare. “You are so much more than I will ever be. I will spend the rest of my life striving to be worthy of you. I’ll prove it to you every day. I…”

My heart swells to the point of pain, and strange words I can’t quite formulate tease at the tip of my tongue.

I swallow down the bizarre urge.

I can’t say them, because I won’t lie to my wife.

I’ll never be fully capable of that feeling, no matter how deep and depraved my obsession is.

She grabs the handle on the duffel bag that I dropped.

“Come on,” she urges, tugging at my hand. “We’re putting your things back where they belong.”

I take the bag from her. My queen won’t strain herself to carry out a menial task ever again. That’s my job.

I lace our fingers together. My hand is a careful cage around hers, but she has my heart on a chain. With one delicate tug, I’ll follow wherever she leads.