Eleven
1337 Words
When I lifted my head, my vision blurred from crying too much.
A tall man dressed up in a fine black suit stood a few feet away from me.
The fading evening light cast shadows across his face, but I could still make out his sharp looks and dark eyes watching me carefully.
He had a cautious look on his face but also a slight dangerous aura that could never be compared to Dawson’s.
Panic hit me for a second and my first thought was that Dawson had sent someone after me.
That was the kind of person he is.
I almost laughed bitterly at the idea that he’d let me breathe freely for even one day.
The stranger must’ve noticed the fear in my expression because he immediately raised both hands slightly.
“Easy,” he said calmly. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
My fingers clutched around my shoes instinctively but I stayed silent.
Then the man cleared his throat awkwardly.
“My name is Zian.”
I blinked at him but said nothing.
He glanced toward my mother’s grave briefly before looking back at me again.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he added quietly. “I just…”
He hesitated before he sighed.
“I know what this feels like.”
Something about his tone irritated me immediately, not really because he sounded cruel but I guess it's because grief had made me angry at everyone.
Maybe he isn't someone that dickhead Dawson sent to get me.
I watched him shove his hands into the pockets of his dark coat and looked away briefly toward the graves around us.
“I lost someone too,” he said softly. “A couple of years ago.”
I sniffled quietly and looked back down at my mother's gravestone.
I didn’t want his comfort or his silly conversation or even his pathetic sympathy.
I just wanted my mother back.
I still didn't say anything to him, I just allowed the silence stretch.
Most people probably would’ve walked away by now but he didn’t as if he's yet to get to his major purpose for approaching me.
After a moment, he slowly squatted down beside me. He wasn't too close, but just enough to make his presence impossible to ignore.
“You shouldn’t stay out here too long,” he said gently. “It’s getting cold.”
I wiped at my wet face roughly. “I’m fine.” I hissed under my breath, now impatient to make him go away.
But he didn’t even look offended by the tone of my voice.
Instead, his eyes lowered slightly toward my feet. When I followed his gaze, I fully realized my feet looked dirty, red and awful. Tiny cuts from stones and rough pavement marked my skin from running barefoot for so long.
The skin near my heel looked especially raw and blood stained.
Zian frowned slightly.“You’re injured.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
Something in me snapped.
“Why the hell do you care?” I hissed again as I wiped my eyes immediately.
He looked momentarily caught off guard.
“I just—”
“Please leave me alone.” My voice cracked badly near the end.
I hated how I sounded so weak.
Zian stayed quiet for a second before nodding slightly.
“…Alright.”
I pushed myself up slowly from the ground, my knees aching from kneeling so long beside the grave.
My wedding dress now felt heavier, dirtier and ruined just like everything else.
I wiped my face again quickly and clutched my shoes tightly in one hand.
“I need to go,” I muttered weakly.
Honestly, I didn’t even know where I was going.
But I didn’t want to return to Dawson.
Fuck this ridiculous marriage!
With the way this man named Zian watched me, I suddenly couldn’t bear the feeling of him watching me fall apart.
I turned away from him and started walking slowly across the cemetery path.
My feet hurt with every step and I winced.
The evening air suddenly felt colder now against my skin and I was so sure the night chill would make me sick.
“Does Dawson know you’re here?”
My entire body froze instantly when I heard Dawson’s name. It was as if he was lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce on me.
My chest rose and fell with instant fear.
But I turned back around to look at Zian.
How the hell did he know Dawson?
My heartbeat picked up.
“How do you know Dawson?” I asked cautiously.
Zian remained crouched for another second before standing to his full height. The fading light caught his face better now for me to notice the calm expression on his face.
Zian slipped one hand into his pocket and let out a quiet breath.
“Dawson and I,” he said slowly, “have an ugly history.”
My stomach twisted at that.
An ugly history?
The way he said it sounded like it carried years of bitterness behind it.
Looks like that dickhead Dawson always has a fall out with everyone he gets involved with.
The wind blew softly between us, moving strands of my ruined hair across my face.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
Then I frowned. “What do you want from me?”
Because at this point, everyone seemed to want something from me.
Morgana wanted freedom.
Dawson wanted ownership.
The world only seemed interested in using me.
Zian’s gaze stayed fixed on me quietly for a second before he slowly stepped closer to me.
I tensed instinctively as he did.
“I don’t know much about you,” he admitted.
I stayed silent.
“But I know enough.”
I swallowed the lump at the back of my throat.
His eyes flicked briefly toward the wedding ring on my finger and then back to my face.
“I know Dawson Cage doesn’t marry for love.”
His words stung more than they should have because they were painfully true and too bad that I'm the little bug caught in the wild spider's web.
Zian’s voice lowered a little like he didn't want the night to hear.
“And I know,” he continued, “that your mother died because of him.”
My breath hitched in remembrance.
Then the grief hit me instantly all over again.
Tears burned fiercely behind my eyes before I could stop them.
I looked away quickly but it was useless.
My vision blurred almost immediately. “He purposely stopped her treatment,” I whispered hoarsely.
I shook my head slightly as I blinked back the tears rapidly.
Zian only watched me. “And now you’re trapped with him,” he said quietly.
I wiped angrily at my face. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You do.”
I looked back at him instantly.
Something dangerous flickered in his expression.
“You hate him, don't you?” Zian said.
Images flashed through my mind instantly;
Dawson stopping my mother’s treatment with a single phone call, the chains, the brutal s*x, the forced wedding and his cold personality.
God—I can't deal.
Then lastly, the memory of Morgana laughing while my life collapsed.
Hatred twisted violently inside my chest and I hated myself for how quickly the feeling came because I knew it wasn’t just anger anymore.
It was becoming something darker and scarier—something I'd rather prefer not to label.
“I…” My voice cracked.
Fresh tears slipped down my face again like a pathetic weak homeless cat.
Zian stepped slightly closer, his gaze never leaving mine.
"I know that look..." He trailed off.
I bit my lip to prevent a sob from breaking out.
“You want revenge against him as much as I do,” he said softly.
A beat passed as his eyes lingered on me.
I didn’t even try to deny it.
- Writer
