Tempting Eve

Chapter 22

THE DRIVE BACK TO his beautifully redesigned warehouse was quiet. A quiet that settled around us like a thick, dark blanket - impenetrable, but not wholly uncomfortable.
I think we were both a little shocked by the events of the last hour.

MORE. Did I want more with Ethan York - wickedly gorgeous, predatory and secretive... yet so kind, even though I had a feeling he didn't think it himself?

The answer was a resounding yes. Even if it didn't make sense. Even if, on paper, we were worlds apart. Even if the darkness he warned me about was really there. Settling under his skin, running parallel with the lines of swirling black and red ink.

I wanted him. Only him.

ETHAN SLID THE HEAVY door open, then closed it tightly behind us. "Eve," he groaned. Halting my progress as I slid my coat on a hanger. "I've never been in a relationship... I've never asked anyone to try something like that with me." He pulled his tie off, flinging it towards the rack as his fingers ripped at the top buttons of his crisp, dark shirt until the top two were undone, allowing him to take a deep breath. "Talk to me. Am I completely off base here? I know you're attracted to me, but is that it?" He tugged at his hair. How could he possibly think I'd want his body, and not his amazing soul and mind.

I finished hanging my coat up. Taking my time while I gathered everything I wanted to say. Finally, I turned to face him. His eyes were dark. Haunted. But his face was as soft and vulnerable as I'd ever seen it. I cleared my throat. "What did your... what did Frank mean when he called you a stray?" The word had been swirling around in my mind ever since it had been thrown from his mouth, like a weapon.

Ethan let out a gust of breath. "I, I think we should sit." He took my hand, leading me over and placing me on the soft leather of the couch. I thought he would sit next to me, but he took a few steps back, sitting in the large, comfortable chair. "Elizabeth and Frank... are not my parents."

I sucked in a mouthful of air, and he quickly continued.

"You're not going to like this story. No sane person would... and I'm afraid you're going to look at me differently afterwards. With pity... or disgust."

I shook my head, breathing my answer. "I won't."

His eyebrows lifted, eyes narrowed, he didn't believe me - that much was obvious - but even if he didn't believe me, he pushed on. "My birth mom was a drug addict. Heroin. I think life was different in the beginning, I don't remember much, but by the time I was older, things were... bad."

My heart was breaking. Fissures spreading with each painfully uttered word from his beautiful lips. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, rubbing his eyebrow with his thumb. Not quite capable of looking me in the eyes. "Men came in and out constantly. Most of the time, she'd shove me in the bathroom. She never had to tell me to be quiet, I was a smart kid and kept my mouth shut on my own, but one night. One night I came out looking for food - when one of her regulars grabbed me."

No. I screamed in my head. I suddenly knew where this was going, and I didn't want to hear anymore.

"She woke up at some point during... but she didn't stop him. She just covered her face in that shitty - " he spat. "- floral motel blanket and rocked herself back to sleep. It happened a lot more often after that; with more people. Sometimes men, sometimes woman." He grew quieter. "I think she was just relieved it wasn't her anymore. Thankful she could just get lost in her high and forget I'd ever even existed."