Does It Hurt?: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

Do you think anyone is ever going to love you, pipsqueak? I’m the only one that does.

But not if you’re going to be a whore. No one can love a whore.

I squeeze my eyes shut, then proceed to trip over a rock.

“Fuck!” I shout. It’s stupid to come out here barefoot on injured feet, but I don’t care right now. I just need to get the fuck away. 

I want to hear what it sounds like when you’re breaking and can’t scream.

“Shut up,” I mutter through gritted teeth. “Both of you, shut up.”

You’re so easy to break.

Blood is pooling in my head from shame and embarrassment, and beneath the hot sun, I’m confident a plane could see my tomato-red face clear as day from ten thousand feet above.

Who needs a goddamn radio when my hatred for men could signal an alien race from an entire galaxy away?

I’m storming from the lighthouse, perspiration forming along my hairline and the back of my neck. I’ve no idea where I’m going, but I don’t care as long as it’s far from that place—far from him. Yet, I’m never left alone anyway. I’ve been running for six years, and I’ve never been able to escape Kev.

There’s no hope of escaping Enzo, either. His cruel words, his wicked tongue, and his sinister intentions.

And I have a terrible feeling that even when I do slip between his fingers, he’ll follow me wherever I go. Just like Kev, he’ll fucking plague me and won’t stop until I’m exactly where he wants me.

I climb over a few rocks, growling more insults toward both men, when I find a massive stone mound, my words trailing off. Something about it seems a little peculiar to be more than just a cliff, so I deftly amble toward it, attempting to be cautious of the sharp rocks.

As I get closer, I notice an opening in the boulder, a black abyss beyond it.

It’s a cave.

My heart thunders, but I’m not sure if it’s from exertion, excitement, or trepidation. Hesitantly, I approach the mouth of the cave, straining my ears to listen for wild creatures.

This doesn’t seem like the type of place for any kind of animal to thrive. But I’ve seen one too many B-rated horror flicks with monsters that do just fine in these conditions.

Yet, it feels like a rope is tied around my waist, and something is pulling me in, whether I want to go or not.

Chewing my lip, I turn to stare at the looming lighthouse behind me. It takes only a few seconds to decide that I’d rather be in a cave than in there.

But I need to get a light first.

Excitement takes over as I hurriedly make my way back to the lighthouse, flying through the front door and finding Sylvester sitting at the dining room table, cleaning his shotgun.

He’s already awake from his nap. At this moment, I’m glad my face is already red, because the sight of him has all kinds of reminders rushing back in.

He looks up at me, seemingly shocked by my sudden entry.

“Well, hiya there. You all right?”

He seems oblivious to what happened in his closet. Good.

“Can I borrow a flashlight, please?” I ask, breathless and sweaty.

His bushy brows furrow. “Whatever for?”

“I’m just exploring the island,” I say, not wanting to tell him about the cave. I’m not entirely sure why. It could be because I don’t want him to tell Enzo, but really, I like the idea of having a place to escape where no one can find me.

Frowning, he gets to his feet and opens a drawer in the kitchen island.

“Just make sure ya bring it back, ah’ight? These ain’t cheap,” he instructs, holding out a small black flashlight.

“Yes, sir,” I say, thanking him with a wide smile as I grab it from him. Just as I go to rush back out, he stops me.

“Lemme get ya some shoes first before ya hurt yerself more. I think I still have some left over from when my daughter lived here.”

I remember the old photos in his drawer and my curiosity about where his family went is burning. It’s the first time he’s mentioned having a daughter, and it seemed like he didn’t even realize it. But I don’t have the time to pry now, so I let him hobble up the steps to get the shoes. 

I shift on my feet impatiently, praying that in the time it takes Sylvester to return, Enzo doesn’t walk out of his portal from Hell and terrorize me some more.

Thankfully, only Sylvester comes down, holding a pair of blue water shoes. I grin, grabbing them from him and chirping out another thank you, barely stopping to put them on before I’m out of the house again.

When I reach the cave, I switch on the flashlight and scamper in. Almost immediately, I’m going down a steep decline, and I’m forced to nearly get on my butt in order to keep my balance.

The air grows colder as I descend, but what’s more disconcerting is an aqua blue glow dancing across the cave walls. I’m in a tunnel of sorts, and it curves gradually to the left, the color growing brighter as I approach.

Confused, I round the bend and then freeze in my tracks. I’m absolutely paralyzed as I take in the sight.

Before me is a massive open area filled with glittering rocks that appear like black diamonds. Every surface is glinting, and it’s almost as mesmerizing as the ceiling of the cave.

Strange blue dots shine across every inch of the surface. It’s like staring up into space with how bright they are. There’s an entire universe in here, and just like outer space, I’m bereft of oxygen.

My mouth drops open, taking in the extraordinary sight and then gasping when I notice a massive pool in the middle of the cave, the surface as blue as the ceiling.

“Oh my fuck,” I mutter, stepping farther into the vast space, taking it all in slowly and all at once.

It’s fucking mesmerizing, and I’ve never seen anything like it.

For reasons I can’t explain, tears rush to my eyes.

Maybe it’s because it’s just so damn beautiful here. Or maybe it’s because, amongst the darkness, I’ve found a safe haven.

The prisoners are restless again.

And so is Enzo.

“If you’re going to keep rolling every five seconds, can you do that on the floor?” I grouse, my irritation spiking when he shakes the bed for the millionth goddamn time.

“If you’re so bothered, then leave,” he responds, his voice low and deep with unrequited sleep.

He’s as cold as ever, and for the first time, I’m glad for it. His fire is exhausting, and as much as that exhaustion would serve me in getting a good night’s sleep, it’s not worth it when he’s keeping me awake.

I spent hours in that cave today. Lying on the rock and staring up at the mysterious little lights, wondering how nature could produce something so beautiful in such an ugly world.

When I returned to the lighthouse, Enzo was fixing a pipe under the sink while Sylvester stood over him, telling him how to fix something he could never accomplish himself.

Enzo snapped at him, and we spent dinner in awkward silence.

Even now, he’s acting like I don’t exist. Or at least he’s trying to.

And I still haven’t figured out if it bothers me. The pit in my stomach would be a great indicator, but clearly, my body can’t be trusted around him.

He shifts again, and my anger mounts. I turn to face him and shove him. His head whips toward me, and though immediate fear races through my bloodstream, it’s no match for my sleep deprivation. 

“Get out,” I bite out through gritted teeth, shoving at him again.

His hands close around my wrists harshly, and it feels like they’re on the verge of snapping like twigs.

And then I’m flipping over his body, off the edge of the bed, and onto the hard ground. I land with a thunk, a puff of breath forced out of my throat. 

For a moment, all I can do is gape at him, in utter shock that he just tossed me off the bed like a hot potato.

“Merda,” he curses, swiping a hand over his head in frustration, then he stands from the bed and scoops me up. It’s enough to reset my brain and send me spiraling back into my fury.

“Oh, fuck you,” I spit, bucking out of his hold until he’s forced to set me down. Then I’m full-out tackling him. Fuck self-preservation, I’m too furious.

Furious at him for throwing me off the bed, then acting guilty like he didn’t fucking mean to. For going into Sylvester’s room and getting us trapped in that closet. For touching me and making me feel things I shouldn’t feel—that I can’t feel.

For messing with my fucking head.

I slap at him wildly, slipping out of his attempts to grab my wrists again a few times before he succeeds, catching hold of them in a bruising grip. Then, I’m being pitched back over the bed, but I quickly grab onto him, taking the asshole with me.

Though, I instantly regret it when he lands on me, another harsh breath being forced from my lungs.

“Goddammit, Sawyer,” he groans. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“You!” I shout, slapping at him again. “Get off of me, you fucking mammoth.”

“Stop hitting me,” he growls, adjusting until he’s sitting atop me, pinning my hands to the floor, and getting in my face. “You’re acting like a fucking cu—” 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence or so help me God, I will drown you in that ocean when you’re least expecting it,” I threaten, panting. It’s hard to breathe, but only because his proximity is so damn suffocating.

“Do you honestly think you scare me? A shrimp is more intimidating than you.”

I gasp. “That is so fucking rude.”

He leans in closer, and it’s a regretful discovery to find that I can’t move through solid objects. I try to lean away, but there’s nowhere to go, the floor refusing to become penetrable no matter how hard I press the back of my head into it.

“You want to hear rude, Sawyer? How about the fact that it’s hard to sleep next to a fucking soul-sucking demon? And you being so close makes me sick to my stomach.”

I bristle, a stone forming in the base of my throat. I had thought it was hard to breathe before, but now it feels like I’m chained to the bottom of the ocean. Not only is there no oxygen down here, but there’s so much pressure on top of me, making it impossible to even suck in a breath.

“What’s worse? I can still smell you on my fingers, despite washing you clean of me. Now tell me how the hell you expect me to find peace when you’re invading every one of my goddamn senses?”

The ice chips in his eyes are melting, slowly replaced by a fire so strong, it’s radiating from him in waves, burning me up from the inside out and turning the air dense.

He’s hurting me, the ache in my wrists spreading down, down, down, until I’m clenching my thighs beneath him.

I’ll never understand why I want him when he’s so fucking cruel.

“You’re so fucking hot and cold,” I bite.

“Good,” he barks. “Because there’s not a damn second that goes by where you’re not fucking with my head. You’re the worst thing to ever happen to me. Every day, I regret walking into that bar. I hate myself for falling for your lies and believing you were nothing more than a sad girl. I hate that I allowed myself to be seduced by you. And I hate that I can’t stop, even now.”

I fight against his hold, his harsh words needling beneath my skin and hooking into the sinew. They hurt, but only because I can’t blame him.

“Get off of me,” I hiss, bucking my hips, but only accomplishing in straining my back. He’s so fucking heavy. “Better stop touching me, Enzo, or else you might accidentally be seduced.”

He bares his teeth. “Everything you do is calculated. Were you even truly panicking when we were in that closet or was that another one of your schemes?”

I gape at him. “I didn’t ask you to touch me, you dickhead! How could I have possibly known what you were going to do?”

“You were doing it to gain sympathy,” he accuses.

I’m so fucking baffled, I’m speechless.

Arguing with him is pointless, though, so I buck my hips again.

“Get off of me!” I bark, that feeling of being trapped trickling into my system. My thrashing becomes more desperate, yet his lips only tip up cruelly.

Far from a smile but amused all the same.

“You gonna panic again, bella ladra? Hoping for my cock this time?”

“You’re sick,” I spit. “I don’t want that thing anywhere near me.”

He tilts his head to the side. “No?”

That’s a challenge, and it only stirs the panic. He rolls his hips, his hard length pressing firmly against my clit.

“Enzo,” I snap, but it comes out breathy.

His lips lightly skim across the shell of my ear. “Would you scream this time?” he questions darkly. “You always do when you create your own little ocean all over me.”

“Fuck you,” I breathe, accompanied by a full body shudder when he rolls his hips again.

“I won’t. I’ve already conquered your ocean, amore mio. You have nothing left to give that I want.”

Finally, he releases me, standing above me with his legs on either side. I slide out from beneath him, pressing myself into the stone wall and panting heavily.

“You’re a liar. Even now.”

Colorful words build on my tongue, and I open my mouth to let them spew, hoping they’re sharp enough to cut past his thick skin, but before I can get a syllable out, his head is snapping to the side.

 His eyes are caught on something outside the window. Whatever he sees causes him to stiffen, his spine snapping straight as he rushes toward it.

“What? What is it?” I ask breathlessly, climbing to my feet to stand next to him.

My eyes widen, a gasp on my lips when it registers what’s outside.

It’s a girl. She’s standing in the ocean, about knee-deep, black water licking at her legs. Only a thin white dress covers her rail-thin body, the collar hanging over one shoulder and exposing moon-white skin

“Oh my God,” I mutter, rushing on to the bed and reaching for the lock on the window, but there are gnarled nails pinning it down, keeping it permanently closed.

“What the fuck?” I mumble, but my attention is diverted again when the girl walks deeper into the ocean, causing my heart rate to skyrocket.

“Hey!” I scream out, slapping the palm of my hand on the glass, but I’m sure the sound is being swallowed by the howling wind. The girl stills, so I shout some more, hoping she’ll turn around. But she only stands there, frozen as the waves batter into her.

“Sylvester is coming,” Enzo warns, his voice low as he steps away from me.

Loud footsteps are stomping down the hallway, but they’re not coming from his room. He’s coming from the staircase.

I turn around and scramble off the bed, the door handle jiggling as he unlocks it. Already, I can feel his anger seeping through the door.

When he gets it open, he busts in, stomping his wooden peg on the floor.

“What in tarnation is going on in here?” he barks. His eyes find mine and then slide to the window behind me.

“What in the hell do you think yer doing, young lady?”

“There’s a girl out there,” I explain, hiking my thumb over my shoulder. “She was standing in the ocean.”

“A gir—now, what are you going on about?” he grumbles, hobbling toward us to look out through the glass.

“There ain’t no girl out there,” he booms. 

“What?” I squeak, peeking around him. But he’s right.

There’s no one out there.

Mouth open with bewilderment, I turn toward Enzo to find him staring out the window, too. Quiet and face smooth, but his eyes are shadowed with suspicion.

Facing Sylvester again, I insist, “There was a girl out there. We both saw it.”

Sylvester leans over the bed to get a better look.

“Ain’t no one out there,” he grunts finally. “You’re seeing things.”

I clench my jaw in frustration, knowing damn well we both saw her.

Training my gaze on Enzo, I watch him stare Sylvester down, his suspicion as evident as the old caretaker’s missing leg.

Enzo shrugs casually, a glint in his eye. “Must’ve just been another ghost.”