Beyond

"This is wrong." I pressed my hands into his chest. "Stop."

But he didn't. He kept a firm grip on my hips now, his lips on my neck. This wasn't right. This was completely and utterly dangerous. This was a killer's lips on my skin. When he grasped my hair, twisting it tightly, I winced.

"Let me go," I snapped. "You're hurting me."

John pulled back, his eyes dark, lip curling. "I thought this was what you wanted, Eden." His voice was cold, angry. "You wanted me. I gave you something you can never get rid of. That darkness you feel — that is our connection. You can't break that, no matter how hard you try." He slammed me into the wall. "God, I should have fucking killed you."

I gasped as pain shot through my back. "Then why didn't you? What's your plan?"

He'd stepped away from me now, and he was shaking. Then he started laughing in a way that made my skin crawl.

Oh God.

"You're very stupid, you know that?" he asked. "You trusted a man you didn't know and look where it got you. I killed everyone in your life and you still continue to let me in. From where I stand, you're just as fucked up as I am."

"I'm not," I managed to say. "You're sick. You're a killer. You're—"

He struck me, hard, my head snapping to the side. Then he grabbed my jaw roughly and pulled my face forward. He looked deranged, and I closed my eyes as his hands wrapped around my throat and squeezed.

"This ends now," he hissed.

I didn't fight him.