Free Twisted Together by Mandoline Creme Page A

from this, too.”
    “ No.”
His breath scalded, his tension so coiled I expected him to jump the
few feet between us and strangle me. “I'm not broken from this.
I was broken before. I just decided to drag you down to meet me,
here, where I've lived so long.”
    And
suddenly, in a brisk moment of clarity, I saw a part of Kris I never
had before. The boy who'd lived under his father's thumb, been told
he'd inherit a life that had made the man downstairs wear blue eyes
even chillier than his son's. Kris had been broken long before I was.
Could money, power, cause such hate and stress?
    He
was using me to try and escape this life. It
was a warning bell, knowing he still planned to use me. That he'd admitted he didn't care if I kept
fighting him. He was an infection, eager to spread to me.
    Now
I knew.
    There
was no cure for what he'd made me. I'd had this side of myself all
along, our sickness was just who we were.
    Stepping
forward, I captured his hands. Seeing him startle, verging on baring
his teeth like a rabid beast, turned my guts to water. But I couldn't
back down here. The risk was too great. “Kris, listen to me.
You guided me here, but look how easy it was. I wanted this. If I
hadn't... come on.” My laugh was hollow in my ears. “I
changed too quickly for this to be all you.”
    He
hadn't blinked. “What if I want it to be all me?”
    I
had no more saliva. Licking my lips made them more dry. “Then
it will be. From here on out, if you want that. I'm weak to you,
fucking weak as hell. Anything you want, even if I fight, you'll win
it.”
    The
thing I'd promised to never admit. There it was, and it must have
been the wrong thing to say. He was glaring like I'd slapped him.
Preparing myself for an attack, I tensed up, mouth spreading to offer
a plea.
    With
fingers on the nape of my neck, he ripped me with his lips. His teeth
were calming, cutting me, bruising me with familiarity. This was the
Kris I knew. Holding me against him, he rubbed his jaw along my
jugular. The scratch of his stubble was like sandpaper. Everything he
did polished me like a jewel, turned me brighter, more pure.
    More
perfect for him.
    “ I'll
write you a check for the money, like I promised,” he
whispered.
    “ Who
cares about that anymore?” I still did, but it wasn't the
moment for hard reality. I wanted more tongue and sweetness. I wanted
raw power over taking me.
    Chuckling
smoothly, he nipped my ear. It was awful, the cold air between us as
he stepped back. The gravity still existed, though. The pull of my
heart, my melting core, towards his. That would never die. “Come.
Finish dressing so we can go out there.”
    Bending,
I retrieved my shirt reluctantly. The buttons were numb in my
fingertips, some even broken from his eagerness earlier. Back
out there. The charade—no. Just our show, who we are. Nothing
is fake anymore. “And
what then?”
    Kris
reached for me, taking my hand in his. It was protective. It was also
terrible. Every hint of his kindness made me seek more. Knowing he
kept it locked away, displaying mere flickers, was taunting. “Then,
we say our farewells. To them,” he added quickly, seeing my
face fall. “Not to each other. I came here to do one thing. Now
it's done. I have other things I'd much rather spend my time doing
with my new freedom.”
    Shivering
to my knees, I squeezed his hand. “I like the sound of that.”
    His
eyes glimmered. “Personally, I love the sound of it.”
    Love.
What a concept in all of this.
    What
a thing to find in such a twisted place.
    Holding
him tight, I let him lead me out into the world.
    It
was a new life, a new freedom, for both of us.

    THE END

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