Does It Hurt?

by H.D. Carlton

“Ho sbagliato a dirti che eri debole. Sei così incredibilmente coraggiosa, vorrei che lo vedessi anche tu.”

“Ti penso ogni ora, ogni minuto, ogni dannato secondo. Non so che fare.”

“L’oceano era l’unico posto in cui mi sentivo a casa,”

“Era l’unica cosa che mi eccitava e dava pace. Hai rovinato anche questo. Sentirti su di me è meglio di immergersi nell’oceano. Neanche con questa rivelazione so che fare.”

“Now’s your time for revenge, bella ladra. I’ve drowned you once. It’s your turn to drown me.”

She goes silent for two heartbeats and then erupts. A loud scream pierces the air, and her entire body begins to seize. The moment I retract my fingers, her release is pouring onto me. Quickly, I hook both arms around each thigh and force her back down on my face, opening my mouth wide and drinking from her like a man who’s been lost at sea for months.

“Yet, I will never stop asking for it,” I tell her. “I will never stop worshiping you.” I cup her again, baring my teeth while the darkness thrashes against my flesh, threatening to tear right through. “You will be mine until you draw your last breath, Sawyer. And it will be my hand holding you beneath the surface, introducing you to death.”

“Sylvester is gone,”

Instantly, I’m overcome with dizzying relief and a touch of disappointment. I’m glad there isn’t a shark using my leg for a chew toy, and the person above me isn’t Sylvester or a pissed-off spirit. But I’m a little sad I didn’t get to hit Enzo. That would’ve felt nice.

Praying like hell he doesn’t reject me, I turn onto my side and lay my head on his chest. He doesn’t even hesitate. His arm slips around me, pulling me into his hold. I have the strangest urge to cry. Instead, I nuzzle my nose against his bare skin, closing my eyes and thanking God that I’m not in this alone.

“Get fucking dressed, Sawyer. That’s not what I want to see.”

That’s not what I want to see. Sure, we both had an extremely eventful, shitty night and are sleep-deprived, but how could he suddenly switch up on me? After he got down on his fucking knees and asked for my forgiveness for that very thing? Even when he openly hated me, he never made me feel so… ugly. So undesirable.

“Whatever you thought I meant, you’re wrong,” he says, understanding that his earlier words hurt me. I blink. “You said—” “I know what the fuck I said, Sawyer.” “Then why did you say it?” I snap, the anger finally re-emerging. He leans down, the storm raging in his eyes fiercer than the one that got us in this stupid situation. “Because it pisses me off that I want you as badly as I do,”

“I don’t understand what happened today. You said you wouldn’t be cruel anymore.” He reaches behind his back for something and then produces a thin, gold card. A credit card. The one I opened in his name. On cue, he flips it around, his full name in my face, nearly mocking me.

“You don’t get to be the one that cries,” he tells me. “You don’t get to cry when you’re the one who ruined me.” “You’re right. I did this to you,”

“But I’m going to. I don’t want to be angry with you anymore, Sawyer. I did swear that I wouldn’t be cruel, but I realize now that for me to keep my promise, I’m going to have to fucking forgive you. And I’m going to have to trust you. If I’m going to give you everything you deserve, then I have to give you all of me.” He tips his chin down, the look on his face severe. “Can I do that, bella? Can I give you all of me?”

“You’re a goddamn siren, and I’m the fool who would gladly drown just to get a taste of you. Starve, for all I care, bella, but I will be eating tonight, and the only thing I’m hungry for is you.”

He swallows the rest of my words with his tongue and teeth, rendering me silent as he devours my lips. Whether it’s from shock or instinct, I open my mouth and allow him in, one hand finding purchase on the table while the other grasps the back of his neck. My entire body lights up like a city coming out of a blackout, my nerves gridlocked with electrical currents as he claims my lips.

“Show me, bella,” he rasps. “Show me where you hurt so I know where to love you most.”

“There’s a place in the ocean, so deep, where not a single point of light penetrates through it. And for so long, I’ve been trapped there, unable to breathe. When I met you, you lifted me out of that darkness, and it was the first time I came up for air. You’ve become my oxygen, bella ladra, and I can no longer breathe without you.”

“You are a thief, baby. You stole my name, and now you’ve taken my heart, too. Demand anything else from me, and I’ll give it to you.” “I don’t dese—” He grabs me by the jowls, roughly pinching my cheeks into my teeth. “Being loved by me will hurt like hell. It’s everything you deserve.” Then, he declares passionately, “I love you, and you will love me.” I’m convinced I’m dying, yet it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. “I do. I do love you,”

“I killed him,” I whisper. Enzo jerks back in shock. “What?” I bite my lip, gathering the little courage I possess. “I killed Kevin,” I say again. His mouth parts, and it takes him a few beats to catch on to what I’m saying. “You said he was after you.” I shake my head, tears once more burning the backs of my eyes. “The police are after me—his friends. Not because I steal identities or because Kev is trying to find me, but because I killed a cop. I murdered my twin brother.”

I spent forty-five minutes carefully choosing these clothes. Just as I do every day. Anything that could be considered suggestive results in unwanted touches, but most times, just existing has the same outcome.

Fuck it. There’s no time. I need to run while I still can. Because once I start, I'll never be able to stop.

“How long ago?” “Six years,” she whispers. “We were twenty-two. He was fresh out of the academy, but they all loved him instantly. They were devastated when they found out he died.” She shrugs awkwardly. “Some of his cop friends were on the news a lot, crying and promising they wouldn’t rest until they found me. I always hoped they’d move on somehow, but one of his old friends still emails me every so often.”

“Enzo, I don’t expect you to save me.” “That’s because no one has ever found you worth saving.” Her mouth drops, offended, and I take the opportunity to hook her bottom teeth with two fingers and tug her into me. She nearly falls against my chest. “They were wrong, baby. You are worth it.”

I won’t risk your life. I won’t fucking lose you,”

Then, it dawns on me. Those handmade plastic sacks with the white tubing in Sylvester’s bedroom suddenly make sense. They were feeding bags, which means he must’ve cut a hole somewhere in her stomach in order to get the nutrients inside her. It also explains why there are so many Ensure bottles in the cabinets.

And who I thought might be willing to help is only a broken soul that has been tortured and possibly brainwashed. I know there’s one side of her that wants to be free—the same side that left the bookshelf open for us to find and desperately tried to get our attention—but there’s another side of her that feels just as hopeless as I do in this very moment, and doesn’t want to be alone, either.

But what is surviving without living, and what is death without pain?

I never wanted to take a life. Yet, here I am, claiming another.

“You look beautiful painted in his blood. È il colore che preferisco su di te.”

She’s both fighting for him and against him. Love is funny that way. It persists even when you’ve done everything in your power to banish it. It demands its own voice and refuses to be a slave to anyone but its own desires. And despite the power of it, those selfish desires are what make love so weak.

“You’re not fucking leaving me, Sawyer. You’re not going to jail. You’re not going anywhere. You want to pay for your crimes? Good. I’m more than happy to make you pay. And if you think for one goddamn second that I’m letting you go, then I look forward to showing you just how trapped you are with me. “There are many things you deserve, bella ladra, but the only prison you will be a captive in is one of my own making. If my love is a prison, so be it.”

“The day you stole from me was the best day of my life,” he whispers against my lips. “Because then you became my life, and I don’t want it back. I won’t fucking take it.”

“If you want to live free for the rest of your life, then you need to kill Sawyer Bennett.” My mouth parts in surprise. That was the last thing I was expecting him to say. “Oh, man. Please tell me this isn’t a fucked-up way of saying you’re going to kill me, too?” His face drops with exasperation. “No, baby. I’m saying there is a girl here who has no real identity outside of Raven Isle. That could also be you. And Sawyer Bennett was an unfortunate soul who wrecked on this island years ago, only to take her own life.”

“I would lie for you as easily as I would kill for you. If you getting the best of me requires the world getting the worst of me, you will want for nothing in life, bella ladra.”

Lying was never the worst of my sins, just the first of them.

Killing him wasn’t the worst of my sins, just the bloodiest.

I’ve taken enough lives. But tonight will be the last. And for the first time in my life, I feel at peace with that.

“You’re free to go,” Jones says. “But neither of you are allowed to leave the country. I suspect we’ll be seeing each other again, Mr. Vitale.” Enzo slides his gaze to Jones, not appearing the least bit concerned. I, on the other hand, am shitting myself. ”And we’re under the agreement that her identity will stay hidden from the media?” “Of course,” Jones agrees. “We will protect her.” I hear everything he’s not saying. That doesn’t mean we will protect you.

“Didn’t I say it would be waiting for you? Don’t ever doubt what I would do for you, Sawyer.” He doesn’t let me answer, not that I’d have one for him anyway. Bottom lip trembling, I say, “Is it too late to add you to my list of things that make me happy? Doesn’t matter, I’m adding you to it anyway.”

Because for some godforsaken reason, Enzo decided I was worth loving. I think he hit his head too hard when we shipwrecked and lost his mind, yet I’m too selfish to let him go. We both lost pieces of ourselves that day. But as time passed while stuck in that lighthouse, we slowly merged our remaining scattered pieces until we made more sense together than we did apart.

“I suppose at first it was because I wanted to be like one. They are some of the fiercest creatures in the ocean—at least that we know of. And growing up, I always felt helpless. Like someone else was in the driver’s seat, and I had no control over where I was going. They embodied power and freedom. It was everything I strived for. “As I grew older, it evolved from fascination to near obsession. I can’t explain what exactly it is, but they’ve always just made me happy. The ocean makes me happy.”

There are some growing pains when you’ve never been in love before. I’ve lived my life selfishly for the past six years and have run from everything that posed a threat to my survival. It’s almost poetic that getting trapped with someone was the catalyst to my redemption. It’s not something I’m used to yet, but I know that one day soon, loving Enzo will come as naturally as the way he loves the ocean. The way he loves me.

“He’s also just a stronzo,” she tacks on with a smile, a glimmer in her eye. My eyes widen briefly, astonishment and something absolutely primal mixing in my bloodstream. I can’t tell if I want to spank her or fuck her for insulting me in my language, but I do know that I love her for it.

“It’s Nemo!” she screeches excitedly. Troy looks over at me, and I meet his stare when I feel how deeply it’s burning into the side of my face. He looks amused, but something else also resides in his expression. Something like relief. “Keep her.”

“That’s very sweet,” she says softly. “It’s a beautiful name, too. That poor girl had a very troubling life. So many reports came out about that evil brother of hers. I imagine she did the world a favor.” Sawyer’s mouth drops and then snaps shut, confusion written across her face. My own brows jump, surprised that there was more evidence against her brother and that Sawyer never knew about it. I suppose she avoided looking at anything to do with him at all costs. “Reports?” I parrot. Bancroft turns to me. “Oh, yeah. Her brother was abusing young girls. Several of them came out after his death.”

Sawyer Vitale. My first name is the only thing I have left from my old life, and it sounds so delicious every time it rolls off Enzo’s tongue. Admittedly, that may be one of the reasons I formed such a strong attachment to it, but considering I’ve long been running from my name, it feels good to finally be able to use it. It was Enzo’s idea to take his last name. I argued, of course, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. And after his very persuasive techniques, I didn’t see the point in fighting it. It’s just a last name… A name that will forever tie me to Enzo, even if he ever does get sick of my shit.

“I told you my love was going to hurt like hell. So tell me, bella ladra, does it hurt?”