Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(43)

No.

No.

This—this—can’t—

Shayne’s cold voice shatters the silence. “Welcome to your new home, Ava.”

I whirl around, only to catch a glimpse of his looming shadow in the doorway as he tosses in another loaf of bread, then slams the door and locks me in. My screams ricochet across the prison walls as I stagger towards the door and pound my fists over and over, until my knees gave way and I slide to the floor.

Everywhere I look, the horror grows, sending bile into my throat. I barely manage to get myself to the bathroom before I throw up. I hurl until there’s nothing left, until I’m curled up on the cold stone floor, shaking and sobbing. Eventually, I struggle to my hands and knees and make it to my feet. I ignore the naked, terrified girl in the mirror and stumble back into the room. I stare at the mattress with exhausted eyes, but can’t bring myself to lie there, remembering how he snuck up on me in the other bed. Instead, I limp to the closet. It’s dark inside, and empty, like me. I crouch down and curl up in the far corner and close my eyes tight, shutting the madness out while I hug my knees to my chest. I imagine Gavin’s arms around me—imagine he holds me while I rock back and forth. That’s when a small voice begins whispering in my head. It’s my voice, but it’s so soft I can barely hear it. But it’s there, whispering the same words, over and over.

He won’t break me.

He will never break me.





CHAPTER NINETEEN




Ava




I wake to the sound of the lock turning and the door opening. My naked body begins to shake and I huddle against the corner of the closet.

“Come,” Shayne says, as though calling a dog.

Fear keeps me frozen and I curl myself up tighter.

“If I have to come get you…”

He leaves the words hanging, but I still can’t bring myself to go to him. A dark figure dressed in nothing but black pants appears in the doorway. I shrink back when he closes in. He grabs me by the hair and drags me on my hands and knees until I’m crouched on the floor, in the middle of the room, trembling.

He begins pacing while I stare at the cement.

“You fucked up, Ava. You fucked up.” His voice sounds off. It has the anger, but there’s something else—a weird pitch to it that makes him sound unhinged. He’s no longer just a beast. He’s a wounded beast.

He stops for a minute, and I can hear him breathing, sort of erratic, sort of heavy.

I need to be careful, so careful.

He’s moving again, back and forth, back and forth, his bare feet falling fast and heavy around me. “All you had to do was keep your word. But you didn’t, did you? Because you’re a liar! A cheat!” His fist is in my hair again and I cry out when he drags me to my feet and shoves me hard against the wall. “You did this to me!!”

I’m facing him now, and can’t help but gasp. It’s Shayne, and it isn’t. I see the familiar black hair, and the scruff he’s let grow. But his face has changed. There are parts still swollen and tinged green from fading bruises—things that will heal—but his nose is flatter now, and crooked, and a fresh scar tugs at his upper lip, making it look like he’s snarling. There are other deformities, like mismatched cheekbones and a droopy eye, but it all blurs when the tears begin to build. I shake my head. It isn’t my fault. It isn’t my fault. But I know he’s right.

It’s all my fault.

Because I broke my word.

Because I gave myself to another when I said I wouldn’t.

And because of what I did, now he’s not just a beast on the inside anymore, but on the outside too. And maybe I shouldn’t feel bad after all that he’s done to me—he’s scarred me for life, and more—but now I’ve scarred him too. And while I probably shouldn’t feel guilty about it, I do.

Because I’m not the beast.

He is.

The tears spill down my cheeks and seem to catch his eye. He stares at them and watches them fall, the only sound his ragged breaths. It feels like being in the eye of a hurricane. But then the storm comes again and he growls and tosses me like a rag doll across the room. I land on the concrete with a thud.

I curl up on my side, clutching at my stomach and gasping for air, when I see him approach. That’s when I notice the tattoo—notice the bloody slashes through my name, as though he took a knife to it.

Shayne stops behind me and leans over. “Do you have any idea how bad I want to kill him, Ava? How bad I want to rip his fucking life apart? I’ve already killed for you once, and so help me God, I’ll do it again.”

He’s killed for me? My mind jerks and my stomach lurches, but I push past it, knowing Gavin’s life hangs in the balance.

His words keep going. “I’ve already done my research, Ava. Already had a guy out there digging everything up. I know where he lives. I know where his mom lives. I know everything about him. Who he’s fucked. What he’s done. I know the past he’s got sealed up in juvenile records. I could skin this man alive.”

“I’m begging you,” I plead, choking on the words. “I’ll do anything.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes,” I gasp. I turn to look at him, but his hand snakes out and crushes my face to the floor.