Read Dark Diary Online

Authors: Anastasia,P.

Dark Diary (18 page)

In the end, I had not walked away from Kathryn. I should have
. My star-crossed arrogance had brought me to my sorry fate without her.

I lifted my face toward the brightly lit moon. Kathera was
lucky she had someone to hold her close in my absence. I had tasted their attraction vividly in the scent of her skin and there was no doubt in my mind that Derek would quickly earn her devotion with me gone from her life.

Yes. That was the answer to the riddle that plagued me.

Stay out of her life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I HAD ALWAYS BEEN AFRAID
to die. I feared that unstoppable moment when my heart would beat its last.

But what was I going to do without him? Would I waste away after my last chance for a new life had turned his back on me? I was fragile, and Matthaya’s refusal to take me with him had been more than enough to push me over the edge.
He could have saved me from this end. He could have taken me with him.

Twinkling lights flashed below as the streetlamps shuddered from the storm. Wind gusts taunted me with snickers of ridicule, nipping at my cheeks with icy jaws while the unforgiving rain splashed against my face. Frustration choked every last tear from my eyes and, for once, the darkness had become uninviting.

With my last inhibitions tossed aside, I considered the worst.

No one would notice me gone.

No one would mourn my end—my scattered remains beneath the dying city lights. Some people do crazy things when they
reach their breaking point. I had begun to understand why. My body lacked the strength to go on without Matthaya, but in truth, I was too afraid to die alone.

I stood and looked around the city rooftop, staring into the darkness of the clouds. There was so much solitude in the inky blackness above. So alone.

“So this is insanity?” I said to the sky. “This is the feeling of the end before death?” My tiny world crumbled in my hands and the storm was washing away any hopes of starting over.

I watched hundreds of busy lives darting along the streets to and fro, oblivious to the chaos all around. Thousands of people were building their lives, starting fresh, living, dying, growing, and fading. There I was, throwing it all away because I was afraid of life. In the short time Matthaya and I had been together, I had felt an extraordinary connection forming. He wouldn’t admit it himself, but I saw it in the way our eyes met, his gaze no longer quick to break away from mine.

Perhaps I had taken it for granted that he would always be there.

Now he wasn’t.

Loneliness taunted me, daring me to make my nightmares of suicide a reality.

I wished there was another way. I tried not to visualize what I would look like after the fall.

Once you enter a roller coaster car, strap yourself in, pull down the lap bar, and start moving, you have no choice but to hold your breath and wait for the fall you know is coming.

Once you reach it, however, you’re never prepared. No matter how hard you try or how much you anticipate it, you never know the feeling until it hits you. It comes at you fast at first, and then you catch a glance of the hill leading toward the decline. Once you reach it, go over, and start to fall, your life seems to break into frames. You spiral down against your will. You hold your breath for what seems like forever and your heart skips a beat.

You’re still shaking when it’s over and you start to regret, but it’s too late. Days pass and you forget how frightened you were. Later, you’re willing to do it again
, ignorant of the bullet your body took once already.

It didn’t work like that.

In life, there’s no lap bar.

All we can do is fall…

 

My infatuation with Matthaya planted new and different nightmares in my sleep. For weeks after our separation, I suffered through them and hesitated to discuss them with another living soul.

They pushed me into darkness. Depression. Thoughts of death and worthlessness plagued me, but I fought back the only way I knew how. I remembered him. I remembered Matthaya and knew my blood needed to serve a higher purpose than staining a sidewalk. I knew he wouldn’t want me to die.

It had been weeks since I had paid my mother’s grave a visit, and I despised myself for allowing such selfishness to keep us apart. She deserved better, but then, so did Derek.

Derek’s embrace helped to soothe the pain… in time. Eventually, my heart had finally stopped aching. He cared for me much more than he should have, offering me a room to myself in his house while I recovered so I could get away from the bad influences of my stepmother. I was hurt and confused, and in that state of impaired judgment, I had accepted his help. With Aldréa out of the picture, my life had become less hectic and I was finally able to put my future in better perspective.

I don’t know how Derek put up with me, or what possessed him to give himself so fully, but he used his patience to earn my trust. In return, I eventually found my heart growing fonder of him. Being beside him began to feel natural.

Still, when he wasn’t around, I often lost myself in tears of remorse and anger. Tears that I hid from the world.

What had I done to make Matthaya push me away?

 

 

I awoke unexpectedly in the night, painful memories stealing the breath from my lungs. I wiped a damp trail from my cheek and then slipped my feet off the bed and onto the floor.

My room was down the hall from Derek’s. He had been
honest about his honorable intentions and I trusted him more
than I had imagined I could ever trust any man. It was nice being alone in the cozy guest room of his house. I had it all
to myself, and sometimes even the entire house when he was
out.

Aldréa’s concern for me had withered after I had gone
away and my father was resting assured by my faith in Derek.

After waking from yet another horrible nightmare, I decided to tell Derek the truth. I stood up from the bed, tugged
my robe off the bedpost, and then slung it across my shoulders, tying the sash loosely around my waist. It was usually comfortable in the house, but my tank top did little to keep my arms warm on this frigid winter night.

The hardwood floor was cold against my feet as I crept quietly down the hallway toward Derek’s room. I listened at his door, which was open a few inches, and heard nothing, so I knocked lightly.

“I’m not asleep either, Kathera. You can come in.”

We were both so accustomed to working late and odd shifts that sleep never really came easily for either of us.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he said, patting a hand on the edge of his bed and then reaching to his side to switch
on a small lamp. A yellow glow filled the room. He sat up, put his
hands behind his head, and lay back against his pillow. “What’s up?”

I took a seat beside him and pulled my knees up onto the velvety comforter. I knew there was tension in him as he struggled to keep his feelings locked down while my broken heart recovered. I also knew how much he wanted to be a part of my life and how he had given everything in hopes of eventually convincing me to return the affection.

It had all been overlooked so easily in the past—before tonight. In the warm light and shadow, he looked… different. I moved closer to him and rested my hand against his bare chest. The feel of his smooth, warm skin calmed my restless fingers.

Even in the dim light, I could make out the brief smile that came across his lips.

He was always so patient with me. Too patient, maybe.

“Derek, I don’t understand what’s happening to me. I keep having terrible dreams over and over again.” I closed my eyes
and sighed. “I’m scared. I-I don’t want to be alone…” I felt his chest rise and fall beneath my hand.

“You don’t have to be.” He sat up and bent a knee for balance
as he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed my neck without asking.

A gasp caught in my throat.

No. I didn’t want to—

His other hand slid across the collar of my robe, teasing the strap of my camisole.

“You’ll never be alone, Kathera,” he whispered. The heat of his breath on my skin made me lightheaded.

Derek, I…
The words didn’t come out.

My skin tingled and I flinched at first, wanting to revolt against his actions, but… his touch was gentle. He pulled back from my throat and looked me in the eye. Butterflies made my body shake.

“Kathera?” He held my face lovingly. “If you don’t want me to leave you, I never will.”

He pulled me into his arms and, in an outpour of organic passion, kissed my lips.

Again, I let him.

I let him take my breath away with his heated whispers, and I stopped worrying about the things I couldn’t control.

I relaxed my shoulders into his embrace and my robe slid down my forearms. I climbed completely up onto the bed and he lay back
, cautiously bringing me with him. My hands slipped out of my sleeves and the fleece robe fell to a pile on the floor beside the bed.

Persuaded by a primitive, instinctual force, I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips with my legs. I was tense at first, shaking with anxiety and uncertainty because I’d never
done such a thing before. Then my muscles eased into Derek’s arms as he pulled me down into another kiss
. I was so close, the beat of his heart resounded through my fingertips.

His hands trailed down my sides and came around to my lower waist
where they remained, although it seemed painfully difficult for him to keep them there.

His chest was sensationally hot and taut beneath my palms.
I didn’t even know what I wanted from him anymore. Or did I?

My mind could barely fathom the rawness of the emotions crashing through me. I felt the muscles in his arms
flex as he held me on top of him, gently but with absolutely no intention
of letting go.

Then his fingers sunk an inch lower, his thumbs caressing the jut of my hipbones, pressing my hips deeper into his until desire raged inside me.

The heat of our bodies so close together made the room uncomfortably hot. I gasped faintly as a bead of sweat
dripped
down my forehead. His lips pressed into my throat. Our curves
complimented each other and it became clear—we were
meant
to fit together. The room blurred and all I could
see was him. All I could feel was Derek’s insatiable hunger infecting
me like a virus—blinding me with the sudden wants of my body.

He knew exactly what he was doing, and his skillful touch and the way he boldly wrinkled
up my shirt to get to my bare skin made me pine for him.
The trail his fingers made across my ribs had been firm but gentle—passionate and careful—a perfect combination
. And now his fingertips remained just below my waist, lighting a fuse of sexual desire, which made me writhe. The sensation charmed my senses, clouding my mind. Making me vulnerable to his needs.

Or were they
our
needs?

Right then and there, Derek wanted me and
only
me. I felt it in my blood.

I wanted to let go completely.

I wanted to forget everything and be his.

His lips lingered on the hypersensitive flesh of my throat and an involuntary groan slipped out of me as I trembled. Derek’s grasp
tightened in response, his abdomen tensing and unconsciously pressing closer against me.

The rhythm of our breaths grew heavier. A hand cupped the back of my neck and pulled me into another kiss, even more impassioned than the last. He tasted powerful.
Real
.

His lips slowly explored my jawbone, until I felt a heated
breath and a fiery stroke of his tongue behind my ear.

His hardened body pressed against me had me yearning. I found myself imagining things I hadn’t before…

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