Chapter 164


    I like this apartment; it somehow seems like I have been here before even though I have neverid


    eyes on it. I love the open space and simple furnishings. Nothing overly showy or shy, nothing fussy.


    Just enough to feelfy and rxed in a way that invites you toe in and lounge your cares away.


    It’s peaceful and feels like home, even though I’m a stranger within its walls.


    It’s no surprise I like it though; one thing I found when making the club gorgeous was that Lexi and I


    have a simr taste in décor, and we gel well in terms of style. We can argue about most things, but we


    never argued over styling choices.


    I waste no time in sinking into the hot bath and letting my weary bones blend with the water, turning my


    limbs to fluid weightlessness. I exhale with relief at theforting feel of hot liquid overtaking my skin


    as it submerges and slides over all the little marks and grazes littering the surface, cleansing them of


    grime and blood. Stings and nips bing numb as I adjust to the heat and sigh heavily to let all my


    woes go.


    I needed this so badly, just to reset and calm down.


    It smells like rose water, courtesy of the maid no doubt as it’s hardly an Alexi smell, and the bubbles


    surround my face, blocking out all thoughts for a moment as I just revel in this kind of perfection. I use


    my foot to turn the tap off when the water brims to the very highest edges of the bath and just sink,


    allowing my bum to lift off the bottom as I’m suspended, floating in rxation.


    Not that overflow would be an issue with a fully tiled floor and a drain in the centre. There is an open


    shower across from me so I’m guessing this is a wet room and often gets a drenching when he uses it.


    I’m shocked he has a tub at all as he does not seem the type to use one.


    I allow myself to float for a bit, lifting my bum up enough to feel as though I’m being carried on a cloud


    of bubbles, and close my eyes. So overwrought and anxious inside still, even if it’s deep and not so


    apparent and I try to let it go as my body unfurls.


    All the stress and emotion that was overwhelming me seeps out from my body and drifts away. I only


    wish my mind would follow suit and I try to nk out the many thoughts and feelings still tormenting


    one another in the background, causing the twisted tight feeling in the pit of my stomach. I feel like my


    insides are on a wash cycle and I know it’s down to the fear of how he will be when he arrives, even if


    I’m not actively pondering it now.


    I stare at the ceiling, submerged to my temples and ears and let myself lie out straight so I’m fully


    suspended in the hot bubbles, far from touching the sides, even if I cannot let my mind flow so easily


    into rxation. I close my eyes, exhale slowly so my body and face sink into the water andpletely


    submerge myself to blot the world out. Like slipping into another dimension, or through clouds


    peacefully to another world below. I just disappear from the surface without barely a trace.


    My ageless method of truly trying to let it go for a few minutes.


    Sinking to the bottom gracefully until the hard base catches me from my floating realm, letting it all go,


    and focusing on the steady beat of my heart. My mind distracted with keeping my breath. The noise of


    the water pressure in my ears always did the trick for me when I was young and needed an escape. It’s


    hard for your mind to keep fretting when your bodyunches into survival mode and focuses on not


    drowning as you stay in the depths for as long as your lungs can handle.


    I always used this when I couldn’t find relief any other way. I stay under for as long as my lungs allow;


    until they burn and my throat aches with the need to inhale. I let my hands and legs do as they please,


    just motionless, blocking out everything while I listen to that loud bubbling pressure around me and it


    blots all my woes and troubles out.


    Just bubbles, heartbeat and weightlessness. Caught in a timeless watery world where stress gives me


    a little respite.


    It’s only a couple of minutes of true freedom and solitude before I push myself up to take a much-


    needed breath, gasping dramatically because I pushed myself to the utter brink of not being able to


    breathe like I always did. Lungs burning with the effort. I swipe the water, diluted makeup and bubbles


    off my face with my hands, sliding it back over my head to smooth my drenched hair t. Inhaling and


    gasping the oxygen I was depriving myself. Sitting up, pulling my knees up to steady myself and


    revelling in the after-effects of my self-levelling therapy technique. Feeling calmer and refreshed


    somehow.


    “You still do that?” The voice makes me jump, body flinching, and I scramble to cover my breasts with


    my palms, looking towards the uninvited figure propped against the door frame. Heart almost ripping


    out of my rib cage in fright when my blurry vision settles on a foreboding body in ck. Stifling a yelp


    with the sudden shock of his appearance.


    ‘Alexi! You scared me.’ I gasp, as all warmth leaves my body and my blood once again runs cold with


    impending terror.


    Alexi is watching me, looking extremely serious and unreadable with a straight brow, standing casually


    with his shoulder wedged in the frame and leaning in as though it’s keeping him upright. Nothing


    obvious in his manner but he isn’t as smoothed out, tailored and smart as normal. His clothes are a


    little ruffled, his hair unruly in its styling and a darkness in his eyes that send the fear of God through


    me.


    I’m very aware of my naked, vulnerable state and pull bubbles in to cover me up while I face him.


    Scrambling for calm andpletely unnerved under that prative gaze.


    “Do what?” I blurt in reply to his question, to break the intense way he is pinning me with a loaded look,


    shocked at his sudden arrival and back to nervous and breathless as my heart rate explodes. A little


    frantic with the unexpectedness of his appearance and still reeling from that.


    “Drowning yourself to escape reality.” He smirks at his description of it and reminds me it was


    something else he would have read in those damn journals. My method of escape.


    I hate that he knows everything like that.


    He seems odd. Not quite his normal smug self and yet not seething mad like he was earlier, and it just


    ups my nerves because I simply cannot read this mood at all. It’s weird and almost resigned in a way.


    All my rm bells instantly singing out loud and it just adds to the weight of my anxiety around him.


    “Another ten seconds I would have dragged you out of there. Wasn’t sure if you were escaping or


    committing suicide. I can never tell when it’s you and me.” He pushes off from the door, that sarcastic


    comment biting me cruelly and walks in to perch his arse on the end of the bath at my feet, where he


    leans forward and rests his elbow on his legs without much of a look towards me as he does so.


    I look down into the water, eyes smarting at his words and unable to meet his. Bruised with how he


    reminded me of that attempt and a little hurt he would say it in such a way. I suddenly feel feeble, and


    all my Cami fire takes a run and jumps out the window. I sit stiffly and try not to over analyse his


    posture or his cool manner.


    He is still in the same sweats and t-shirt from earlier and looks only slightly dustypared to how


    filthy I was. Although, I spot the reddening marks on his knuckles and slight bruising from this angle,


    and shiver at knowing exactly how he got them. It’s more than punching one man one time in his throat


    would cause and I guess they found the other one.


    Alexi would not be here already if they hadn’t. Knowing him, the guy is tied up in some warehouse


    somewhere while his most trusted interrogate the life out of him. Alexi only asionally does it himself


    from what I have heard, but I can guarantee his knuckles are evidence of him taking his fury for me out


    on someone else. It’s why he’s calmer. He had his outlet, and that puts me in a better position and less


    likely a target for that much high energy aggression. That’s a blessing in itself.


    “Funny.” I nce up at him warily, no real amusement in my tone and stay in my upright perched


    position, pulling more bubbles towards me to use as a covering so I don’t need to keep my hands on


    my breasts. Aware that any other person invading while I was in a bath would outrage me, but it


    doesn’t even cross my mind with him. He’s had me naked, seen me so, and this doesn’t feel like an


    invasion or crossing of a line. In a way, I’m d he just sprung on me, so I didn’t have time to n and


    torture myself for his arrival. This way is like a ripping a band-aid off. Although I might need a bigger


    one after he is done.


    He turns his head and watches me for a second. I can feel his gaze, then he looks at the floor and


    away from me too. Both of us suddenly unsure, awkward and unable to look at each other. It just


    heightens the tense atmosphere and my heart sinks to the hard base of the bath. Deting me more.


    I can already tell all that anger and hostility has majorly subsided, and he just seems very distant and


    weirdly aloof.


    I don’t like it.


    When he is like this you, just can’t get a read on what he is thinking or feeling. You don’t know if he is


    pissed off, tired, or what. Just closed off and the energy is buzzing but not with his explosive side.


    It makes me feel worse, not better and I would rather he stormed in to deliver a chastising. It’s what I


    expected and waited for and now theck of it has me overly suspicious. Mind going into overdrive.


    “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I overreacted, I acted stupidly.” I blurt it out nervously, pressured by his


    oddness to apologise, to make this right as thoughts of calm before the storm in the past weigh on me


    heavily. He just shrugs and picks at his thumbnail with his other hand.


    It’s not one of his mannerisms and even though it should bepletely insignificant, it’s not. To me, it’s


    Alexi behaving outside his normal and a signal that we are not okay by a long shot. He is not okay, and


    all this is NOT okay. I feel sick again, nausea swirling up as my insides tighten with that heaviness of


    dread so intense, I struggle to swallow or breathe.


    “I don’t know what to say anymore, Cam … us … this …” He inhales heavily, fixes his eyes on his


    shoes and then shrugs again. A defeated tone, his body sagging slightly, and I stare at his gorgeous


    profile and try to dig a meaning out of that. Clinging to him visually. Desperate for him to snap out of it


    and maybe just—snap.


    I know how to deal with angry and explosive. I don’t know how to deal with this.


    “What about us?” I manage to swallow a sudden huge lump in my throat with a bit of effort, my gut


    telling me this isn’t good and sit forward slightly. Stiffer, heart beating faster as though I can sense this


    is about to get worse.


    “It’s not working, is it? Nothing I do or say; it won’t fix it.” He drops his hands between his knees, lowers


    his head and runs his fingers through his hair in agitation, scratching his scalp for a second before


    sitting up properly and I just hold my breath. A little shell-shocked by this response to getting here. I


    expected a tornado or a pissed Carrero with punishment on his mind. Not this calm, quiet version who


    seems like he has just had enough.


    Of me.


    “What do you mean?” I ask shakily, my nerves jumping around inside my stomach and my heartbeat


    starts bouncing out of my chest, banging against my rib cage erratically. Pain splicing me deep down


    as my senses piece his words together. A horrible sense of foreboding turning into a full-blown panic


    attack.


    “You fight me at every turn. Rebel, disobey and almost get yourself killed. You don’t want this and no


    amount of me trying hard will change that. You’re never going to forgive me, never going to trust me


    and you are sure as hell never going to love me the way I love you. I know when something is dead. I


    promised you the club and you can have it. All of it. Take it. I’m done. I’d rather you were alive and safe


    away from me than dead because I was too stupid to let you go.”


    He soundspletely defeated as the words flow smoothly from that devil’s tongue to stab me in the


    chest over and over. My body hit all at once with the shrapnel of excruciating, slicing and biting mini


    bullets. I literally gawp at him, but he doesn’t even nce at me, just pushes himself up, turns on his


    heel after that shocking statement and walks out of the bathroom away from me. Strong purposeful


    strides, right out the door before I even get a chance to say anything to him.


    It was thest thing I expected, and it triggers instant anger inside me, fuelled by my extreme


    heartache. A bubblingva pit of rage and hurt, heart shattering but pride picking up a piece because


    she’s going to stab him in the face with it for doing this to me.


    “Hell NO!!! Don’t you walk away from me.” I yell after him, hauling arse out of the tub so water and


    bubbles spill everywhere dramatically, sloshing all over the floor in a crescendo of noise; dragging the


    robe on over my sodden body and twist out my hair to dump the excess water on the floor. Stomping


    my naked feet on the slippery surface I follow him like a bat out of hell. Forgetting all fear and all


    humble apologies when he just pressed my red ignite button and has the nerve to walk off mid-


    conversation.


    This is not some minor detail he can brush off. This is my heart, my soul and the rest of my goddamn


    life hanging in the bnce.


    I catch up with him as he wanders across the bedroom to the door, ignoring mepletely. That


    stubborn high and mighty walk of a guy who knows he’s in the shit and I literally have to control the


    urge to push him over, t on his face. Anger and the need to hurt him in somehow because it’s exactly


    what he’s doing to me. I have a growing, swelling balloon of ‘arghh’ expanding inside of me and it just


    switches on that hell hath no fury venom in me.


    “You are a fucking liar and a bloody coward!” I shout at him, tearfully enraged, angry and so fucking


    distraught all in one. Bubbling over, pouring my hot, spicy fury all over the ce and leaving wet


    footprints on the polished floor. He stops in his tracks, turns his head and res at me angrily.


    “Liar?? You know, for the record, I haven’t touched a single woman, not in any sexual or inappropriate


    way, except you, since that night they tried to take you from me in the club. Not even one! Because of


    you fucking with my head and making it impossible to want anyone else. I haven’t lied to you either,


    about anything, since I brought you back for a second chance because I couldn’t even if I wanted to. I


    wanted you to trust me. So, liar, no. Not about anything. Whether you believe me or not, it’s a fact.” It’s


    the hoarse tone and the utter devastation that pushes through in his furious expression that breaks me


    further. So much inside of me bubbling to the surface, and how dare he walk the fuck away and tell me


    he’s done with us after everything he has put me through.


    He doesn’t get to just walk away from me in that way. He can’t. I need him.


    “Yes, you are! You say you love me, will do anything to keep me and yet here you are, walking the fuck


    away. That’s not love. You’re giving up on me because I’m hard work. Because I make mistakes. What


    about the mistakes you’ve made, huh? You don’t fucking deserve me if that’s the case, no man does. If


    you loved me, you would fight to the goddamn end for me, no matter how hard I can be. That’s what


    love is!” I blurt it out, voice cracking as tears clog my throat. Hating on him viciously, in disbelief that he


    is leaving me this way after everything he said. He promised he would do anything to keep me, yet he’s


    bailing like everyone else in my life has done. Discarding me with the trash instead of fighting for me.


    Reconfirming I’m the worthless nothing my mother always told me I was.


    If someone as fucked up as Alexi cannot even stick with me, then what hope is there for me?


    He made me believe I was worth more to him than this and I did … I believed it.


    Alexi instantly looks enraged, frowning, jaw tightening to severe chiselled proportions and that tiny


    clenched flicker. That hint of fierce anger peeks up again. Rounding on me so we are face to face,


    bearing down with intimidating height and muscle as I stand half covered and barefoot while dripping all


    over the floor and struggle to pull the robe over wet limbs to tie it shut.


    “That’s bullshit. I’m walking away because I want to protect you, nothing else. I know when I should


    give up and when all I’m doing is putting you in danger. Don’t hit me with this crap, Cam. I would


    fucking die for you; you have no idea how deep my feelings for you go. You’re ingrained in me, my


    thoughts, my feeling and my dreams. None of that will make you love me though. I will never stop


    wanting you, but I love you enough to let you go. Even knowing I will spend my life broken without you.”


    Alexi, for the first time ever, sounds like he might just break too. Real emotion in his voice, the tone full


    of hurt, and a raspy shake to his voice as his eyes mist over. It just makes my own tears burst out. That


    genuine raw, vulnerable emotioning from him breaks me into a thousand sharp and gnarly pieces


    which twist me inside out.


    Tears building and heart breaking. I want so badly to just scream at him, tell myself this is what I


    expected, and he isn’t worth my time or my heartache, but I can’t. I need him too. I can’t let him walk


    away in defeat and never see where this could go. He loves me. He really does and he is offering me


    everything I ever wanted.


    “Don’t you dare do that. Say all this to me when your intentions are to leave me and walk away. You


    told me you would always look after me!”


    “Isn’t today proof of why I should? Look at us. We’re vtile and fucked up, and we bring out the worst


    in each other. You could have died, Cam. I have never felt fear like that in all my life. Thinking I wouldn’t


    get to you in time. It scared the shit out of me, and I can’t do that again. I can’t put you in that kind of


    danger, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” He rubs his face, pushing away


    frustrations, pain and visible emotions, antsy and restless because this is as hard for him as it is me. I


    just stare at him hopelessly, cradling my body and shivering from the dampness still gracing my skin as


    it bothers me and adds to my fragile mood.


    “Today was a lot of things. Stupid knee-jerk reactions fuelled by jealousy and a broken heart. I thought


    you were betraying me all over again.” I sigh dejectedly, trying so hard to make him see sense; afraid


    that he really means to end this and hating him for it. My words just seem to piss him off even more.


    “How many times? I’m trying to prove to you that I’m not going to hurt you again. I changed for you; I’m


    trying for you! Everything I do, Cam, it’s for you!” He erupts, not in temper but a snap of raw hurt at my


    lack of faith in him. Eyes boring back into mine under furrowed brows and aplete look of


    exasperation.


    “I know. Do you think I would be standing here if I believed you cheated on me? I calmed down, I


    thought about it and I realised what an arsehole I was. It’s why I went outside. I was afraid of what you


    might to do to me after I realised how wrong I was and how stupid I acted. I was afraid you would


    punish me and how much that would end us. I didn’t want us to end.” Ites out in an exasperated


    rush of words, not really doing a good job of exining all the emotion and thoughtlessness that went


    through me today, just so desperate to have him change his mind.


    This text is ? N?velDrama/.Org.


    “Jesus Christ! This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He snaps again, temper riling and instead of


    understanding me I just seem to make him madder.


    “Punish you? What have I been saying repeatedly? Everything I know about you, everything I’m trying


    to prove to you, and you think I would still do things I admitted I regret? I WON’T FUCKING HURT


    YOU! I would never do the things I did again. I learned my lesson!” He yells it at me, loudly, and despite


    myself, I flinch.


    “This right here, this is what I mean when I say you will never forgive me, never trust me, never believe


    I can be someone else for you and you will never love me the way I love you. It’s pointless.”


    His outburst triggers one of my own, igniting so much inside of me that my simmer pops and my boiling


    pot explodes right in his face. In sheer exasperation at how dense and thick-skulled he can be, I snap


    right back.


    “Who says I don’t love you; youplete fucking idiot of a man?” It’s yelled hysterically, tearfully,


    stubbornly, feeling exposed and vulnerable but just so exasperated that he cannot see the feelings


    behind all my insecurities and actions.


    He’s walking away because he thinks my actions are down to never being able to feel any trust or love


    for him. They are in fact, the exact opposite. He rips me up and chews me to shreds because he has


    owned my soul all along. I couldn’t love him more than this if I tried, and nothing he has ever done has


    managed to kill the way I feel about him. Even when I wanted so badly to hate him.


    I’m seething mad that he is so blind to it and stupid sometimes. Walking away because he thinks I’m


    rebelling, instead of realising I’m just afraid to let him see how weak I am for him.


    Complete fucking knobhead.