Shards of Us

edge.

'Sit,' he says to me. I do.

He leans over me as I sit on the edge of the surprisingly soft bed, his cleanly-shaven face and jaw and perfectly kissable lips hovering right above mine. He's still wearing his business and black bowtie, and he looks all too perfect in it.

I can't help but notice the hardness beneath his torso, the way his thighs are pressed right above mine, and suddenly I want to be back to the night before. I want to feel him inside of me again, feel him own me. I want Sebastian, want him bad.

'Angel,' he says after a minute, his voice hard and unwavering. 'You know me. I'm not all about whips and chains. I don't want to feed off of your pain. I just want you. All of you. I want you everywhere, don't you see? I want to fuck you, to touch you, to own you. I don't give a shit about anything else but you and me. I'm going to do whatever it takes to save you, to keep you mine, because I care too much to see you get hurt, by Marco or otherwise. I'm trying to save you, I told you. I'm trying to keep them from getting to you.' His eyes are a fierce blue, his jaw thick and tense. I can feel his passion in his every word, the lust and desire and… love?... that pours out of him. His voice gets fiercer as he continues. 'But you almost died in there! You almost fucking died on me!' he says, raising his voice to a yell. 'I've lost so many people. I've lost so many that I can't count them all, but I just know that I'm not losing anyone else. I'm not losing you, angel!' he shouts, eyes full of fire. 'I'm not ever losing you. Let Marco and his team blow me to bits if that's what it means. But as long as I'm alive, I will never, ever let them, or anyone, touch you. Understand?'

The basement is silent as soon as he finishes speaking, his words an echo throughout the room, and I just swallow, staring back at him. I don't know what to say. My heart has started pounding. I'm not even going to lie: I feel scared. Terrified, really, by the intensity and determination in Sebastian's words. But a part of my heart aches, knows the pain he is going through and wants nothing more than to cure him. A part of me loves him despite his flaws, but knows I can't ever have him.

'I understand, Sebastian,' I whisper, meaning it. Then, 'I want you too.'

Sebastian stands up, adjusts his suit. His jaw is still thick with tension, and his are narrowed, the anger not leaving from before. 'But you can't have me. Because if I let you have me anymore than I already have, then that means there is no turning back for us. I already need you too much. It only makes things worse for you to need me back.'

I look down at my feet. 'Then it's already too late,' I say quietly.

Sebastian freezes. His eyes turn back to me, still burning and passionate. 'Don't say that,' he hisses. 'Don’t fucking say that! It's not too late. I can't save you if you need me like I need you, and I am going to save you. No matter what. Okay?' he says fiercely.

My heart thrums in my chest. Heat pulses between us and I can feel the tension in the air, the fire in each of his words and his breaths and his closeness to me. Everything about Sebastian sends tingles throughout my body, but he also scares me, unnerves me, thrills me. 'Okay,' I say.

Sebastian doesn't back down. 'Okay, what?' he demands.

'Okay,' I say quietly. 'Okay, I won't fall for you.'

He nods sadly then, and the ferocity in him is gone. He reaches out and hands me the sandwich he made. 'Take this.' Then he leaves a glass of water by the bed. 'In case you get thirsty,' he says.

For a second, I'm too stunned to realize what he's doing. But he is already turning around, walking across the basement and up the stairs, before I have time to stop him.

I open my mouth to say something, but he beats me to it.

'I'll get you in the morning,' he calls after me. 'Eat if you have to. And please… just know that I have to do this.' Then I hear the click of a knob, the opening of a door, and then it slamming shut. 'Night, angel,' Sebastian says.

And then, just like that, I hear nothing at all.

I whip my head around, feeling my heart pound. I start to race up the stairs after him, calling 'Sebastian, what are you--' but he's already gone.

I reach the door in the darkness of the basement and start to push it open, but the knob doesn't budge. It's locked. I start shouting, pounding on the door for the second time this week, screaming for Sebastian, begging for him to release me, but no one answers me.

No one, but the darkness. 

Chapter Eleven

Sebastian comes down to the basement first thing in the morning. I slept surprisingly well last night in the warm blanket and sheets he left out for me, and as much as I hate him for locking me up in here like this, I can't help but understand his reasons. He just wants to protect me. He just wants to save me.

He's like me in that way: at the end of it all, he doesn't want to lose anyone else.

While I sleep, I feel my thoughts drifting off, thinking about what Sebastian told me he was: a hitman. He kills for a living. He fucking murders people every single day. It hurts, to imagine that my Sebastian, that the man I'm falling for has blood on his hands--literally and figuratively. It hurts to imagine that he has such a big heart when it comes to me, but such a small one when it comes to his victims, or whoever it is he kills. I want to ask him about it. I want to know who he killed for this cartel that's after us, and why they made him kill the people. I need all of the gory details if I'm going to get over it. I trust Sebastian despite myself, and I know, deep down, that he wasn't lying when he said he hated himself for what he did--and that he didn't have a choice.

Sebastian is a good man, I tell myself.

I don't think it's a lie.

Next, I find myself wondering about the scar on his cheek, the one he refuses to tell me about, and I think about why he doesn't want to talk about why Marco and the rest of the cartel are after him.

I close my eyes. He's hiding things from me, still. Even after everything, he still doesn't trust me. And I don't know why, but I want him to. So, so badly.

I'm still caught up in the thought when Sebastian comes down. There's a click at the top of the stairs, the creak of a door being opened, and then the sound of footsteps heading toward the bottom floor. I watch as Sebastian's silhouette comes into view, lean and muscular, walking slowly toward me. The room is still dark as he makes his way over to me. When he reaches me, he stops, and I can see the familiar flash of blue in his eyes as he stares at me, focusing on my arm. Then, he reaches out and touches my hand, trailing his finger along it slowly, calmly, sending an array of shivers through me. I watch with fascination as his dark fingers touch my pale skin, and I keep my gaze locked on his even though he isn't looking back, listen to the pounding in my heart and the ache in my body as he slowly lifts up my arm and then, before I know what's happening, touches his lips to my bicep. He kisses me gently at first, like kissing me is an art and he has mastered it. He moves his lips along my arm, his kiss all hot and fiery, and I just stand there, unable to move or breathe as he seemingly brings life to my skin. Tingles shoot through me, and the familiar need for him to kiss me elsewhere returns. His lips have that effect on me; they wipe everything else away. Sebastian's kiss is dangerous but so, so right.

'I need to bring you upstairs, angel,' Sebastian says roughly, pulling back away from my arm. His gaze is fixated on my breast for a little too long, like he's hesitating, wishing he could kiss me there.

I open my mouth to say something, but his hand is already around mine and I feel myself getting pulled up to my feet. Sebastian leads me across the basement and up the stairs before we can do anything more. As soon as we step through the door and into the kitchen, the light from the house blinds me, and I have to cover my eyes with my hands as Sebastian brings me over to the nearest table.

I can see Sebastian clearly now, though. He's wearing a new, clean suit and black bowtie as he always is--I have no idea where he gets them--and his dark hair is wet and wild. His tan looks even sharper today, standing out among those deep, clear blue eyes of his, and for the billionth time, I'm struck by how incredibly good-looking he is.