He Caged Me for Fifteen Years novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: The Wrong Bed

Maeve's POV

I was sitting on Niall's bed in the dark when he found me.

I had walked into his room while he was in his father's study.

The door was not locked, because nothing in that house was locked anymore.

I had come to look for the letters.

I had not found them.

I had found a rag in the top drawer of his dresser, folded small and wrapped three times, with something inside it that was a little stiff.

I had not opened it.

I held it in my lap now, and I did not need to open it to know what it was.

The door opened, and the hall light fell across the floor.

"You're in my room," Niall said.

"I know."

"That's the one place you agreed to stay out of."

"That was your rule. I never agreed to anything."

He stood in the doorway for a long moment, looking at what I held.

Thunder rolled over the quarry.

He shut the door behind him, and the light from the hall went out.

"Give it to me," he said.

"No."

"Maeve."

"You took everything I had that was mine," I said. "My father's name, my mark, my bed."

"Maeve."

"You even took my shoulder, and then you put it back and made me hurt for it."

"I never asked you to thank me."

"So I'm taking something of yours."

He did not move.

The rain began, hard and loud on the tin roof.

"What do you want?" he said.

I laid the rag on the dresser behind me, and I stood.

I took the three steps across the floor, and I put my hand flat on his chest.

His heart was going hard under my palm.

"I want you to stop standing there," I said.

"I know what you want."

"Then why are you standing there?"

"Because I took you out of your life in a van." His voice was low and ragged. "Because I put a knife in your back."

"I know what you did."

"Then you know I shouldn't."

"I don't want what you should." I curled my fingers in his shirt. "I want it to be my choice for once. Mine, in the dark, where no one can see."

"You've got all your choices taken."

"Then give me this one."

For a second he stood with his hands at his sides.

Then he said, rough and quiet, "Tell me you're sure it's me you want."

"I'm sure."

"You hate me."

"I hate you. I want you. Those are two separate things."

A flash of lightning lit his face.

The whole yard lit white, and his green eyes held mine, and he broke.

His hand went into my hair and tipped my head up, and his mouth came down on mine.

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