Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(54)



“What do you think?” a deep voice asks.

When I spin around, I see the beast leaning against a bookshelf, arms crossed, black eyes quiet. I look down quickly and find myself so weak I can barely stand. I stagger to the edge of the fountain and sit, my hands knotting themselves in my lap.

“What’s the matter, Ava? Don’t you like it? I thought you loved books. When we were kids, every time I tried to come over and talk with you at lunch, or during recess, you were always off in a corner with your nose buried in one of your damn books. Books, books, books,” he sighs. “How I used to hate your books. You’d be so deep into them, you wouldn’t so much as give me the time of day. Remember that? In fact, most times, you’d just get up and walk away, whenever I came around. Drove me crazy, Ava. Fucking crazy.”

He walks now, slowly, around the roses, watching me all the while. I see him, from the corner of my eye. He leans down and lifts a rose to his nose and breathes in, then lets the rose go. Now his eyes are on me again, so I turn away.

“But you want to know why it really drove me crazy?” he asks, his voice drifting as he moves around me. “It wasn’t because of the books, but because I knew you already had it in you what you thought of me, ever since you threw that first rock my way, all because of that damn cat. But…to tell you the truth, Ava, I don’t blame you really. I never did think much of myself either. I know I’m no prince. I know I’m damaged goods. Always have been and always will be. But why do you think I was always causing trouble when you were around, hmm? I’m not saying I wasn’t inclined to cause trouble back then anyway, I know I did plenty of that whether you were around or not, but…after the way you lit into me about that cat, I knew it was the only way I could get your attention. So I spent all my time back then, thinking up ways I could get you to look at me, even if the only way I could get you to do it, was with that fire in your eyes.”

I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing I can say.

“So,” he continues, “after we made our deal, and I knew you’d be coming to stay with me, I built this for you, knowing I’d need some help getting you to think differently of me.”

I shake my head, even though I already knew that.

“Oh, come on now, Ava,” he chides. “You know I did. Of course I built this for you. I built the entire house for you.”

Wait. He built…the house…for me? Not just this room? The house that hardly looks lived in? He built it…for me?

I shake my head again, and a tear falls.

“Think, Ava. It’s a small town. I know you’d have heard I tore down the old house and was building a new one. When did I do it, hmmm? I was always planning to do it after my parents died, but I didn’t start on it until right after we made our deal. I wasn’t sure how long your piece of shit daddy would last, so I moved quick. This sucker was up in under four months. Turns out I had plenty of time to wait after that though, didn’t I? But it gave me time to get everything set up good.” He chuckles, but it sounds sad. “That was silly of me though, wasn’t it? That was back when I thought I could make you want me by making you a pretty room and buying you silly things, like clothes and jewelry. And this…” he waves his hand. “I thought if you had all this, it might change how you felt about me, might help you see past all that monster I got in me, and who knows, maybe you’d never want to go back to that shithole you were raised in. Hell, that little grey horse out there—you know which one I’m talking about—I know you’ve seen her. She’s still waiting on a name.”

Another tear falls and lands in my lap. “Not fair,” I whisper.

“No, darlin’, I suppose it’s not fair. I never did play fair though, you know that. Especially when it comes to you. I’m one of those—what do they call it—complicated guys? Yeah, that’s it. Complicated. One of those guys who doesn’t make sense, so women sum it up with a word like ‘complicated’.”

He’s back in my sights again, and I see him reach out and cradle a rose between his fingers. “You know why I have all these roses around, right? Not just because your middle name is Rose, but for all those little red roses you had on that dress, the day we made our deal. Figured you must’ve liked them, if you were wearing them too.” His eyes drop to his chest and he rubs his fingertips over his shirt—over his heart—where the tattoo rests. “I know I carved this all to hell, but I’ll get it fixed up again.” He sighs, sounding more man than beast.

I hear what sounds like a snap, followed by his footsteps as he walks towards me. I look to the ground, only to see a rose appear in front of my eyes.

“For you,” he says, quietly.

When I take it, my hand’s shaking so hard, a petal falls and I watch it float to the ground. By the time it lands…he’s gone.





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE




Ava




He doesn’t come for me that night. It’s the first time, in a long time, that I have a stretch of time like that to myself. There’s a beautiful house I can roam—a house that was built for me—a room of books that was built for me. But here I am, curled up in my corner, rocking back and forth, naked, because I couldn’t keep his shirt on me. Because it was choking me. Hurting me. So much guilt I couldn’t breathe. So much pain I couldn’t move. I still can’t move. Still can’t get his words out of my ears. They’re loud. So loud I have to cover my ears. The beast is cruel. Cruel to do those things, say those things.

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