All About You (Love & Hate series #1)

  ***

  The fire alarm stirs me back to consciousness. I rub my eyes, wondering if the porter downstairs decided to test it in the middle of the night, to get people out of the building.

  The alarm doesn’t stop ringing for about a minute, so I assume that I should get out of my apartment, as it’s probably a real fire.

  People are hurrying towards the entrance, and I’m still in my nighty running to the stairs. I barge into the laundry room hoping to find a jacket. After the incident with Oliver I don’t fancy standing outside dressed like a hooker. I hear someone shouting to get out. The laundry room is dark. I search for the switch, wondering if this day can get any worse. I know that I left my clothes to dry here in the morning.

  Then I hear steps and someone locks the door.

  “Hey, you need to get out of here. The fire alarm,” I say, annoyed. As my eyes get used to the darkness I spot a silhouette of a man. He takes a few steps forward and my mind starts screaming that I should get the hell out of here.

  “Hello, Indi.”

  It’s like I’m in my own nightmare, but this time it’s all happening for real. My heart leaps in my throat as I stumble backwards. “Oliver, what the—”

  He doesn’t let me finish. Instead he moves toward me in the blink of an eye and pushes me against the wall. Every muscle in my body locks, and fear jets through me with the awareness that history is about to repeat itself.

  “I needed to see you again,” he mumbles. “I’ve missed you so much.”

  His breath reveals that he’s had way too much to drink. I’m frozen, unable to move and completely startled with his closeness. Before I can even anticipate his next move, his lips are on mine, and he kisses me hard. Alarm bells are going off in my mind; a voice screams to push him away, but the heat that suddenly embraces my body is unbelievably real. Desire whisks through me as he slips his tongue inside my mouth.

  A short gasp escapes me as he sucks on my bottom lip, making a sound in the back of his throat. His hips push into me harder.

  “Beautiful India,” he cracks, moving his lips down my neck, making my senses swirl like my body isn’t mine anymore. I don’t know what is happening to me. He crushed me, humiliated me, and now he is kissing me like he owns me. His hands move down around my waist and I feel his erection just by my thigh. His lips are sweet, but deep down I find the strength to push him away.

  “Oliver, what the hell are you doing?” I ask, breathing hard.

  He darts his eyes towards me, his face only inches away from mine. “You ruin me, India,” he whispers, stepping away as if he just realized what he did. “This is what you lost. My brother didn’t mean anything. You always wanted me.”

  My chest heaves and everything around me spins out of control. I want him to accept me, to love me, but I’m afraid to let go of the hatred that protected me. I have a chance to tell him everything now, to make him understand.

  “Fuck Oliver, if you want to hear this from me, then, yes, I admit it,” I tell him, shaking. The tears are back, running down my cheeks. “Yes, I did love you more than I loved Christian. And I wanted to apologize to you, but I was a coward, so I never did it.”

  He runs his hand through his hair looking at me with desperation. “You ruined my life because you lost a man that you didn’t even want?” he whispers. “It’s too late. Leave Braxton. I’m giving you another chance. Let me carry on living a normal life.”

  I clench my fists, chewing my lips, watching Oliver’s chest rise and fall. I have a chance to tell him everything now, ask him for forgiveness, make him understand why I did all these horrible things to him after his brother died. “I can’t change the past, but I want to apologize. And to explain. Christian, he—”

  “Fuck your apology. I don’t want to hear about it and I don’t need it. Christian left us, died in a car crash!’ he shouts, not even allowing me to finish. “We could have helped each other deal with the pain, but instead you pushed me away, hurt me and cut me to pieces.”

  “Oliver, we can start again. Please if I could change what I did I would,” I cry, moving towards him.

  He laughs.

  “Too little, too late, India. You’re pathetic and you make me sick. I don’t want to hear any more bullshit that comes out of that mouth of yours.”

  We stand looking at each other. He is right: I’m a pathetic human being because I’m still afraid of the truth. I could have explained this years ago, but instead I locked my emotions away and violated Oliver through hatred and cruelty.

  “You’re right, and I can’t make you forgive me,” I reply. “But I won’t leave Braxton just because you can’t deal with me being here.”

  “Do what you want, but you don’t realize what I’m capable of. It’s only the beginning. The past will come back hunting you down, and in a few months you will wish that you had left when you had a chance,” he says, throwing my remorse into the mud without a thought.

  I failed again.

  I slide down on the floor, breathing as if I can’t get any air. It’s all my fault. The pain is back, and I’m burning alive while Oliver is watching. His eyes are empty, and I know that he is right.

  It’s only the beginning.

  Chapter eight

  Memories of him