Shadow: Fate Against Her & her Twisted Billionaire Saviour

Emotional Overload

Gianni

"So whose grave is it?" I could feel his warm breath on my neck. I had already caught his earthy scent with notes of sandalwood before his warmth covered my back.

I stilled not answering. He spoke again with more depth in his tone. "Have you forgotten my warning already? I don't like to repeat myself. You want him to join the body buried beneath that grave?" Hearing his threat clearly, I cautiously turn and look up so we're face to face, not really face to face because he towers over me. A few seconds pass, and our breaths are in sync. He looks down, staring from my eyes to my lips, so, so close, almost touching, but no contact, never touching. Not since the little bathroom incident at Mason Valley Prep that kick started a catastrophe of events.

He's the first one to give in looking past me, breaking whatever this is that we do, these intense moments that build to nothing. He's always the first to give in. Like something clicks, and he remembers I'm damaged goods, too tainted to be anything else.

I see the message. It's loud and clear. The way he sees me changed that day, not that I'm complaining well, maybe I am, but I don't blame him. Who wants something someone has already had their way and played with.

Releasing a deep sigh. "You have already killed me. Now you want to take away someone close to me who's just grieving." Wincing as the words spill from my lips, they sound strange even to me. Someone close to me. What the hell am I saying. Carson and I weren't close in the end, but listening to him talk to that empty grave, to me, like he used to stir up memories of a time when we were inseparable. The Carson who would wait at my house for me to get home from school to read to each other and have a two person book club meeting. The kind and sweet Carson who planted sunflowers in my backyard garden.

If he wasn't pissed off before he is now. He rolled his neck. I could hear bones cracking. His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. His hand collared around my neck, applying light pressure with his thumb over my pulse that's thumping doing a marathon now.

"Someone close to you?" He asked, his voice demanding and anything but cool, raising a brow tilting his head slightly. He waits for my answer, his eyes cautioning me to choose my words wisely.

A hard swallow passes through, and I know he felt that. "Why do you hate him so much? What has he ever done to you." Not giving him another second to answer. "You never liked him, and you don't even know him."

"And you do?" I wanted to tell him I do. But the way his demeanor changes, I keep my mouth shut. For a moment, his walls crumble, and the facade is stripped away. I think I see anger, hesitancy, longing, and a hunger in his eyes. I should know. He's my own reflection in a mirror of time when I felt the same things after Carson tossed me out of the friend zone. More like erased me out of his life like I was never there to begin with over one stupid mistake. My heart constricts, blinking hard to keep meddling tears pressed at the back of my eyes. I will not cry! Definitely not in his presence. I haven't cried in forever. Being back here is really doing a number on my mental.

" I don't like the effect he has on you. The way you look at him. It's been over a year, and you still look at him like...." The asshole cuts it off. Now he has nothing to say. And why does it matter how I look at Carson or how he makes me feel.

"Like what? How do I look at him? Finish it." I ask gently bitting the corner of my bottom lip waiting for his answer. He looks like he wants to say something more, but holds back. Why? A lifetime passes. Okay not really but it seems like I've aged waiting for him to respond.

"You look at him like he's the sun, and you revolve around him." I definitely wasn't expecting that. He opens his mouth like he wants to say more but closes it. His beautiful lips press together in a slight grimace.

I'm done. I could feel it coming. A wave of emotions rising to the surface too fast for me to hold them back.

What are these new feelings? I just want to scream until they're all bleeding out cascading down my body. Inadequacy. Guilt. Loniless. Helplessness. Sadness. Resentment. Pissed off. Jealousy. Wait, jealousy? Do I want him to be jealous? Am I jealous? I'm trying to calm my composure, which is failing miserably. What the hell is happening to me? I'm treading dangerous waters, sinking here. In way too deep. I normally hide behind a few functions to get by. Compliancy, resilience, clandestine. I could hide in plain sight, quiet not engaging, just being and biding my time.

I guess the teeanage hormonal rebellion phase has finally arrived at the party. I'm an emotional wreck now, and why should I be the only one on the receiving side. In that moment, I decide he should feel just as confused, overwhelmed, wrecked, and broken as I feel.

So I tried to provoke him. Inching up to him so that we're nose to nose. He doesn't back away, flinch, or move an inch this time. It's almost like he knows my intent. The side of his mouth quirked up, calling my bluff. His eyes still focused on my lips. I inch in a little closer, my lips brushing the corner of his.

"Careful. It's starting to look like you're jealous." It's clear I've gone off my rocker. Actually, I went off my rocker and lost it a few nights ago, that's been happening more often now, but we'll talk about that later.

Right now, let's decipher why I'm standing in a graveyard, feeling overwhelmed and trying to solicit emotions with the very person who ended my life and who just had another woman wrapped around his arms. But nonetheless, here I am, standing my ground with the man who ended Gianni Camille Knight. The man who caused everyone all this grief. He saved me, at the same time killing me in the process.

But let me be honest. Let me tell you, it's what he resurrected and nurtured that's becoming the real problem.

And no I'm not ghost. I'm still flesh and blood known as Shadow. His Shadow.