Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions) novel Chapter 54

Vincent is killing more and more. I say nothing because I know once he's done he will take my body, lighting that spark I have come to crave.

He only fucks me when we're at these places, and there are dead people everywhere.

At home he is another person, he is caring, he touches me tenderly.

He makes love to me every night, but he never sleeps next to me.

Once he takes my body at home, we eat, and dance and just as morning comes he leaves me alone in his suite.

He doesn't call and I go crazy. I send him messages that he ignores then he comes back.

He talks while he drinks. I ask him where has he been but he never answers.

Same story, different day.

He is all I think about, all I want, my craving.

My mind and my heart is no longer numb. I have this inner war inside of me, overcrowding me- sanity, love, and pain.

Each day it is coming, I don't know what it is, but it is like a storm brewing, my mind is telling me I need it. But at other times I feel like I am breaking apart.

It's two months, two months of bloodshed, two months of watching people getting tortured. Sixty-one days since I walked away from that young dead boy.

I am not haunted by the men that hurt me. They killed Kylie, and they gave me strength.

I know that now.

I can watch Vincent torture them, without an ounce of remorse, even knowing it is wrong, understanding I should stop him.

Whenever that thought comes to my mind I shut it down. It is like a switch, a trigger.

I can't control it.

But that boy, his green eyes they come for me at night, telling me things that I know, things I am just not ready to accept.

The same things I shy away from because Vincent Stone is my addiction but he is also my disease.

I can't feed my addiction without accepting the repercussions. It is just a fucked up cycle of love, need, hate and pain. Sooner or later it all blows, poof.

“I’ve always wondered what death feels like.”

Vincent is sitting on the white leather couch.

I am on the floor, directly opposite him. My phone in my hand with fifty three missed calls.

I stare up at his smirking face as he voices this.

Over the past two months my feelings for Vincent have grown. It doesn't change the wrongness of his actions but my heart isn't taking that into account.

My mind is.

I get better every day.

I feel more alive but still not Kylie. Kylie is gone, she isn't coming back. He keeps calling me by that name and I say nothing about it.

“Wanna know what death feels like, fall in love.”

He laughs at my answer and I use the opportunity to get up and walk toward the room. I need to go somewhere today.

It is time I faced the one person I need to.

“Where are you going?” His voice follows my retreating form as I go to the cupboards of my room.

I take out a pair of Jordan's and a bag that Vincent gave me a couple of weeks ago with my house keys and some other stuff I left in my car the night I entered my hell.

Going to the front door, I stop and look at him,

“My father would like to see me.”

His eyes skit over my body, my dark wash jeans, tee and shoes, and finally my bag.

“Are you going to stay there?”

“If you give me a reason to,” I snap at him.

“When did you decide you were leaving, I wasn't given any heads up.”

His brooding eyes never leave mine as he moves closer toward me.

“I wasn't aware that I had to ask permission to see my father.”

“Well, when two people are in a relationship Kylie, letting the one know that you are going away is the least you can do.”

I frown, “I wasn't aware we were in a relationship.”

His eyes harden, jaw tightens as he stops a hairs breath away from me,

“You are living in my house Kylie, you on my arm, in my fucking bed...”

“I'm not in your bed Vincent, you never here, you fuck me after you go on your murdering rampages, that is all I see. So don't come and tell me this is something that it's not because that will be a lie and go wash your fucking mouth it stinks.”

I left Vincent that day. My love for him was growing, but still not there. I knew he was a bad person I just didn't know how bad he was. I was already addicted to him, and I was scared because I knew that once my love came back so would everything else. Including acknowledging the worst fact of ALL. And as usual, my mind, body, and heart didn't want to admit it. I didn't know that going to my father would do it all. Nor was I aware of the anger it would unleash once it did.