He smiles, a crooked, sadistic smile, not like Sebastian's. 'Good,' he says. 'I will teach you. But I should have you know'--he moves his face closer to mine, so his mouth is right on my cheek, and I feel his hot breath on my lips--'I am here to control you. Sebastian wants to save you, but I don't think you need to be saved, Crystal. I think you need to be broken, to feel everything, and I want to be the one to break you. Sebastian wants to love you. I want to own you. Do you want to be owned, Crystal?'
'Yes,' I say, hard and strong.
'When I'm done with you, I'll wipe clean all trace of Sebastian. Do you want that?'
'Yes,' I say.
He takes another step toward me in the darkness of the room, brushing his jaw to mine. 'Do you want to feel everything?' he snarls. 'Do you want to feel the things Sebastian never let you feel?'
I don't hesitate. 'Yes,' I say. 'Always.'
He smiles. 'Then I think you're ready.'
Marco drives me to his mansion a little while after that. We take a limo, and he joins me in the back seat, his arms snaking around mine, smoke from his cigarette curling in front of our faces. I keep my body straight the whole time, not being fazed, not being afraid. All I am is determined.
Sebastian needs to pay for what he did.
He needs to pay for ruining my life, and then keeping it from me while he took my heart in his hand.
He stole everything from me.
He stole my heart, and then he shattered it and shoved it right back.
Marco is the only who has been honest with me. He's the only one who has really cared. And since we have a common hatred of Sebastian, we'll make a hell of a team, I think, turning to Marco now. His green eyes are as strong as ever, and he watches me from his seat beside me, like a serpent surveying its prey. He licks his lips, then reaches out and kisses me. It feels weird at first, too thick and vicious and just… wrong. Wrong. So wrong. My body stiffens up automatically, because kissing Marco isn't the same as kissing Sebastian. It isn't as tender and fiery at once like Sebastian's kiss is. Marco's is all about desire. Not about pleasing me, just pleasing him. But I relax soon after, letting him kiss me, because it feels good in its own way.
Because the lips that are on mine don't belong to a liar.
I let him kiss me, let him drag his lips around my neck as he turns around and starts straddling, his breath all cigarette-filled and smoky. His body is thick and hard and hot against mine, and the feel of him is different too, but a good kind of different.
'I'm going to make you feel everything,' he hisses, slipping his fingers down into my shirt as he continues to kiss me. I don't kiss back. I just let him wipe everything away, wipe Sebastian away. I let him make me forget. He slips off my bra, kissing at the space beneath it. 'You want that,' he continues, his voice rough and harsh and filled with desire. 'Don't you?
He shifts closer to me, so that my legs are around him and his torso is pressed to mine. 'I just want to forget him,' I whisper as Marco kisses me lower and lower, his hands trailing down my body.
Marco smiles, a snakelike little smile, and I feel his green eyes on mine. 'When I'm done with you, you won't even remember he existed,' Marco rasps, pressing me harder against the side of the limo.
I lock eyes with him as he starts to slip inside of me, and I whisper, 'Good.'
Marco's mansion is even bigger than I expected it to be. After about an hour of driving, we reach a woody area of sorts, where a huge dark building stands, hidden beneath hundreds of trees. A ring of barbed wire wraps all the way around it, and several armed guards stand inside, waiting at the gate. Smoke billows from the chimney, and I look around, wide-eyed, as the guards motion us in. Marco holds me closer, his side pressed against mine. 'Do you like the house?' he asks.
'Of course,' I breathe in awe, the afternoon sun pouring down on me.
Marco smiles.
Once we're inside, he leads me through a huge, cavernous main room, up several staircases, and toward a gigantic room with a king bed and several TV's in it, which he tells me is my bedroom. He leaves me there with some fresh clothes, supplies, and tells me to make myself at home. I spend a few hours sifting through everything--the giant closet, filled with intricate women's clothes. The huge bathroom, with a large bathtub positioned in the corner. The lingering scent of lemon mixed with cigarette smoke which follows me wherever I go.
The whole place is incredible, and it almost makes me forget about Sebastian. Almost. But the pain is still too much. His betrayal is too much. And I know I have to make him pay.
I take a long shower after that, letting the scalding water run down my back and wipe away everything, hoping it heals the pain at least a little, but it doesn't. Not really. Nothing seems to heal me anymore.
And so I end up just standing there, tears rushing down my face as the hot water comes down, thinking about Sebastian and my parents more than I know I should.
I can't help myself, though. Sebastian became my whole life, my savior, so quickly, it's almost hard to believe. He consumed my life with such speed I barely even realized what was happening. And now, just as quickly, he's gone. Betrayed me. Ruined me even more than before.
Just like that.
Once the sun sets and the night sky darkens, a maid knocks on the door and tells me Marco has called me for dinner. I nod and thank her, put on one of the flashier dresses from his closet, and head down the stairs, thinking about Sebastian and what he did with each step. It hurts--it hurts to know how much I love him. It hurts to know that he ruined my life, but I still need him. It hurts to know that I still love him, even though I'm going to kill him.
Once I reach the bottom floor, the sound of classical music fills the air, trickling in through a half-open door. I walk over to it, knowing it leads toward Marco, and a huge room filled with candles and dim lighting greets me. A long brown table stretches across the expanse of the kitchen, with an assortment of salads and grilled kitchen and fish and steak and wine spread out across it. The whole place is rich with the smell of cooked meat and alcohol, and it looks breathtaking in the dim light. On the other side of the table, at the head, sits Marco, who watches me with those piercing green eyes of his, a smirk flickering across his lips. He pats his lap, and says, 'Come, my love,' and I do. I walk slowly toward him, letting the cool air slip by me, and when I reach him, I let him wrap his arms around me and gently bring me into his lap. His arms circle my breasts as he draws me into his chest, holding me close. I feel a certain hardness pressing against me from his lap, but I try to ignore it, try to focus on him touching me right now, and not what is to come.
I try to focus on the complete, blissful numbness the feel of his body gives me, making me forget about everything else.
'You look beautiful tonight,' he says in that same serpent-like voice, which sends a shiver down my spine.
'Thank you,' I say, because I don't know how else to respond. He draws me in closer, gently turning my head so I'm looking out at the expanse of the kitchen table, lined with all of the foods imaginable. 'Are you hungry?' he asks, but I can tell he cares more about having me than how I actually feel.
'No,' I say honestly, not daring to meet his gaze. My head is still throbbing from the insanity of today, and all I want to do is curl up and go to sleep, hoping to dream this all away.
'No?' Marco asks, tracing a finger down my right arm. 'Do you not see any food you like? I can always get you more,' he says, his voice mixing with the quiet classical music that plays around the room.
'No, it's not that.' I hesitate. 'I just don't know what to think about what Sebastian--what he did to me.'
Marco sits up straighter at my mention of Sebastian, but then relaxes almost immediately. 'Don't say that name,' he whispers into my ear. 'That name has only hurt you. He betrayed you, my love. But we'll forget him, don't worry. I'll help you get your revenge, and then I'll help you forget him.' His voice is quiet and harsh, and I feel his hand slipping down my side, down to my leg, as he slowly reaches under my dress.
I lean my neck back, moaning quietly. His touch manages to make my mind feel absolutely blank, and so, as far as I'm concerned, it's all I need. All I'll ever need.
I realize then that this will be my life. Just letting Marco touch me, because it makes me feel numbness, makes me feel nothing at all. And strangely, I'm okay with that. Because nothingness means I won't get hurt again. Nothingness means my heart won't shatter any more than it already has. Nothingness means no one else can
