327 Not My Type
After spending weeks searching to no avail, Roman returned to Autumn without a word of warning.
He had traveled to France and then to Italy. But she was nowhere to be found, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he got.
It didn’t make sense for her to suddenly appear after all these years. It didn’t make sense that his father had no clue where she had gone in the first place.
No, his father liked Bell. Saw her as a daughter, fawned over her, and tried to protect her. He wouldn’t have let her go without knowing where she was or with whom.
Bell wouldn’t have been able to escape on her own either. She was a child back then. Even if she had stolen the suppressants, she couldn’t have run from Autumn without help. So someone was lying to him.
He moved angrily down the hall heading for his father’s room. When he suddenly caught the scent that had stuck with him for almost thirteen years.
Chili peppers and dark chocolate, a bittersweetness that burned him from the inside out.
He closed his eyes and turned his head gently toward his shoulder, following the smell. Letting it fill his senses and wrap around him like a lost lover.
He took a deep breath and let it out with a hungry growl.
Opening his eyes, the fire in them had been lit.
At the end of the corridor, he saw her, standing alone, completely unaware of his presence.
Roman clenched his jaw and pushed back against the unsettling feeling of disappointment at her lack of awareness.
He took a deep, cleansing breath and moved toward her. For no other reason than the fact that they had business to discuss.
***
It took a few hours, but she was back in Autumn. Alice was feeling strange. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had forgotten something. It wasn’t the usual, not the simple fact that her life was basically erased and rewritten at Holden’s whim. This was different.
On top of that, her head was aching. She leaned against the wall, rolling her head back to stretch her neck. Then, closing her eyes, she tried to will the headache to go away.
Instead, it seemed to increase.
As she lowered her chin, she let out an audible gasp when she found Roman standing so close to her that their bodies were almost touching.
His eyes were fiery and excited. It left her with a feeling of disgust and agitation.
He leaned closer and Alice, unconsciously, pulled back to the wall.
Roman gave her a lopsided grin.
“Aren’t you going to welcome me back?” he asked.
“Were you gone?” she asked casually. “Hadn’t noticed.”
Roman let out a low growl.
“I see you’re still away,” he whispered.
“I’m right here, sugar.”
“Not the real you,” he smiled.
“The only me there is,” she smiled.
“No!” he growled, moving closer.
Alice clenched her jaw, pressing her body against the wall. He was so close now that she could feel the heat of his breath against her face.
“She’s still in there,” he whispered.
Alice swallowed and mustered up all of her courage.
“What do you want, Roman?” she asked.
He smiled. “That’s a loaded question.”
“Don’t be disgusting,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.
Roman growled once again.
“Fine,” he said. “It seems my father is holding out on me. I thought you convinced him to share what he knew, but it seems even your tricks didn’t work so well.”
“Sorry,” she said sweetly, “wasn’t me.”
Alice tried to turn and move away from him, but Roman slammed his hand against the wall, locking her into place. Alice closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning back to face him.
Roman smiled.
“Where you going?” he asked. “We’re having a nice conversation.”
“I’d rather not,” she smiled back. Again, feeling a deep and intense loathing rising from somewhere she didn’t quite recognize.
Roman tilted his head and observed her carefully.
“Your fire has been tempered,” he said softly. “But it’s still there, raging beneath the surface.”
He leaned closer to her again, she tried her best to move away from him, but there was nowhere to go. So instead, her movements made it easier for him to grab hold of her hair.
“Ugh!” she cried out as his finger tangled into her curls and pulled tightly until she stopped moving.
Alice swallowed. She took deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm.
“Will you scream for me?” he asked with a lecherous grin.
“No,” she growled.
Alice was surprised by her own voice, her own words.
Deep within her mind, behind the glass, the real Alice growled and snarled as Roman tugged on her hair. As he smiled and leered at her in the disgusting way he had always watched her.
She knew it wasn’t safe to take control, to allow herself to be manipulated into revealing herself. Still, she couldn’t stand by while he put his filthy hands on her.
“There she is,” he smiled. “That’s my Alice.”
He ran his thumb over her cheek tenderly. The look in his eyes was deranged but delighted.
Alice stared back at him through the window, her heart pounding in her chest and her anger overwhelming her senses.
She didn’t have the energy or control to push him off or escape his grasp.
“You remember me every time,” he said. “Not all the details, but you recognize me. You have that same look in your eye whenever we get close.”
He looked into her eyes. Then, seeing the heat of her gaze, that fire that wished to consume him, he smiled.
If he was going to take her down today, the real Alice would go down without ever giving him what he wanted. She would not scream; she would not cry out. She would keep the doll silent no matter what it cost her this time.
“I’m sorry, Axel,” she whispered in her mind.
“So much fear… so much hatred,” he whispered with a soft smile.
He tucked his head and nuzzled against her throat. Then, feeling her pull away, he tightened his grip on her hair.
“But you know… I don’t hate you, Alice,” he whispered against her throat. “You’re not my type.”