The songs for this chapter are:

 Absolute- The Fray

Syndicate - The Fray

Enough for now- The Fray

Tessa's POV.

The man behind the desk gives Hardin the key to our room with a smile that Hardin does not return. I try my best to offer one to make up for it but it comes off as forced and awkward, the concierge looks away quickly.

In silence, we walk through the lobby to find the room. The hallway is long and narrow, religious paintings line the crème walls, a handsome angel kneeling before a maiden, two lovers embrace in the next.  I shudder when my eyes drag across the last painting, meeting the black eyes of Lucifer himself right outside of our assigned room. I'm stuck staring into the empty pools as Hardin slides the key card to open the door. Lovely.

I hurry behind Hardin into the room and flicks the light switch, illuminating the dark room. He tosses my bag onto the winged back chair resting in the corner of the room and the suitcase is left by the door next to where I am standing in place.

"I'm taking a shower," he quietly remarks. Without looking back, Hardin walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

I want to follow him but I'm conflicted. I don't want to push him or upset him anymore than he already is but at the same time I want to make sure he's okay and I don't want to let him wallow in this, not alone at least.

I pull my shoes off, followed by my jeans and Hardin's shirt, and follow him into the small bathroom, completely naked. When I push the door open he doesn't turn around. Steam has already began to billow through the small space, filling it, covering Hardin's naked body with a cloud of thick smoke. His tattoos peak through, the black ink poking through the veil, drawing me toward him.

I step over the pile of his discarded clothes and stand behind him, keeping more than a foot of distance between us.

"I don't need you to-" Hardin begins, his voice flat.

"I know," I interrupt him. I know he's angry, hurt, and he is beginning to slip back behind the wall that I have fought so hard to crumble. He has been controlling his anger so well, I could kill Anne and Christian both for making him lose it that way. I'm surprised by the dark direction my thoughts have taken so I shake them away.

Without another word, he draws back the shower curtain and steps into the cascading water. I take a breath, building every ounce of confidence I can muster, and step into the shower behind him. The water is scolding, barely tolerable, and I hide behind Hardin to avoid it. He must notice my discomfort because he adjusts the temperature of the water.

I grab the small complimentary bottle of soap and squeeze it onto a cloth and carefully bring it to Hardin's back. He finches and tries to move forward but I follow him, stepping closer to him in the process.

"You don't have to talk to me, but I know you need me to be here right now," my voice is almost a whisper, lost between Hardin's deep breaths and the pouring water.

Silent and still, he stays as I brush the cloth across the letters etched into his skin. My tattoo.

Hardin turns to face me, allowing me to clean his chest now, his eyes studying my every stroke of the cloth. Anger radiates from of him, mixing with the streams of smoke from the water and his eyes are burning into me. He looks as if he's' going to explode, me being the target.

Before I can blink, both of his hands are pressed against my jaw, cupping my neck on either side. His mouth desperately collides against mine and my lips part involuntary under the rough contact. There is nothing gentle, nothing soft about his touch.  My tongue meets his and I pull his bottom lip between my teeth, gently tugging, avoiding his wound, he groans and presses me against the cold tile wall.

I hear myself whimper when he pulls his mouth from mine but he quickly makes up for the loss of contact when he peppers rough kisses down the column of my neck, across my chest and cups my breasts, rolling them beneath his busted and bruised hands while his mouth works back and forth, licking, sucking, biting. I roll my head back against the tile and bury my fingers into his hair, tugging the way I know he loves.

Without warning, he lowers his body even further, resting on his knees under the spraying water and I'm reminded of something, I just can't place it.

Hardin's POV.

Tessa's fingers lace through my hair, bringing my mouth forward to her flushed, already swollen skin. Touching her, tasting her this way pushes everything else from my tortured mind.

She cries out as my tongue laps around her, pulling tightly at the roots of my hair. Her hips lift from the tile, meeting my mouth, desperate for more.

Too soon, I stand back to my feet and lift one of her thighs to wrap around my waist, following with the other. She groans as I lift her, entering her slowly.

"Fucckk," the word is drawn out, my voice almost a hiss as I'm overwhelmed by the warmth, the wetness, of feeling her without the barrier of a condom between us.

Her eyes roll back into her head as I push forward, withdrawing and filling her again. I fight every urge to slam into her, to fuck her so hard that I forget everything around us. Instead, I move slowly but allow my mouth and hands to be rough on her skin. Her arms tighten around my shoulders as my lips latch onto the skin just above the curve of her full breast, I can taste the blood pulling to the surface underneath my tongue and I pull away in time to see the faint pink mark left in my wake.

Her eyes dart down between us, examining it herself. She doesn't scold me or even frown at the bruise left by my lips, she only brings her lip between her teeth, staring almost adoringly at the mark. Tessa drags her fingernails down the slope of my back and I press her harder against the tile wall. My fingers are pressed into her thighs, indenting her skin and I thrust inside of her, her name being repeated from my lips.

Her legs tighten around my waist and I push and pull, in and out, bringing both of us closer to our release.

"Hardin," she softly moans, her breathing is erratic as she comes around me and the realization that I can come inside of her without worry brings me to the edge, pushing me over. I spill into her with a shout of her name.

"I love you," I press my lips against her temple before pressing my forehead against hers to catch my breath.

"I love you," she gasps, her eyes closed. I stay inside of her, allowing myself to simply enjoy the feeling of skin on skin.

On my back, I can feel the heat leaving the water, we won't have more than ten minutes left of hot water. The idea of a cold shower in the middle of the night brings me to carefully place her back on her feet. As I withdraw from her, I watch shamelessly as the  evidence of my orgasm seeps from between her legs. Fucking hell, this sight alone is worth waiting seven fucking months for her to finally get on birth control.

I want to thank her, to tell her that I love her and that she brought me out of the darkness, not only tonight, but since the day she caught me off guard by kissing me in my old room at the frat house, but I can't find the words.

I turn the hot water up on the dial and stare at the wall. I sigh in relief when I feel the soft towel on my back, continuing what she started only minutes ago.

I turn around to face her and she brings the cloth to my neck, I stay silent. My anger is still present, simmering beneath the edge, but she has forced it back in the way that only she can.

Tessa's POV.

"My mum is so fucked up," he finally speaks after long minutes of silence. My hand jerks at the sudden noise but I quickly recover and continue to bath him as he continues to speak, "I mean this is some Tolstoy shit,"

My mind scrambles through Tolstoy's works before resting on Kreutzer's Sonata. I shiver despite the hot shower.

"Kreutzer?" I ask, hoping I'm confused or that we have interpreted the dark story differently.

"Yes, of course," he's becoming emotionless again, crouching down behind that damn wall.

"I don't know if I would compare this.. situation to something so dark," I softly argue. Blood, jealousy, and rage fill that story and I would like to think this real-life story won't hold the same.

"Not completely, but yes," he answers as if he can read my mind.

I play the storyline through my head, trying to make a suitable connection to Hardin's mother's affair but the only connection I can find is to Hardin himself and his beliefs on marriage, that brings me another shudder.

"You're view of marriage is tainted even more now, isn't it?" I can't help but ask.

"I didn't plan to ever marry, and I still don't, so no, it didn't change anything," he coldly responds.

I ignore the pain in my chest and focus on him, "okay," I run the cloth down his arm, one after the other and when I look up his eyes are closed.

"Who's story do you suppose we will have?" he asks, taking the cloth from my hand.

"I don't know," I answer him honestly. I would love nothing more than to have the answer to this question.

"Me neither," he pours more wash onto the cloth and runs it across my chest.

"Couldn't we make our story?" I look up into his troubled eyes.

"I don't think we can, you know this will end one of two ways," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

I know he's hurt and I know he's angry but I don't want Anne's mistakes to effect our relationship and I can see the comparisions being made behind the green of Hardin's eyes.

I direct the conversation away from where he is attempting to take it, "what is it about all of this that bothers you the most? It is that the wedding is tomorrow, well today," I correct myself. It's almost four a.m now and the wedding is, or was, supposed to start at two this afternoon. What happened after we left the house? Did Robin come back to talk to Anne or did Christian and Anne finish what they started?

"I don't know," he sighs, dragging the cloth down my stomach and across my hips. "I don't really give a fuck about that wedding. I guess I just feel like they are both fucking liars,"

"I'm sorry," I tell him.

"My mum is the one who will be sorry, she's the one who sold her fucking house and cheated the night of her damn wedding," his touch becomes rough as his anger builds.

I stay quiet but remove the cloth from his hands and hang it back on the rack behind me.

"And Vance, what kind of fucking asshole has an affair with the ex-wife of his best friend? My father and Christian Vance has known each other since they were kids," Hardin's tone is tense, threatening even. "I should call my father and see if he knows what a backstabbing whore-" I reach my hand and cover his mouth before he can finish the harsh words.

"She's still your mother," I softly remind. I know he's angry but he shouldn't call her names.

I remove my hand from covering him so he can speak, "I don't give a fuck, and I don't give a fuck about Vance either. And jokes on him because when I tell Kimberly and you quit, he will be fucked." Hardin proudly says as if that would be the best form of revenge.

"You will not tell Kimberly," I look into his eyes, pleading, "if Christian doesn't tell her then I will, but you will not embarrass her or harass her about it. I understand that you are angry at your mother and Christian, but Kimberly is innocent here and I don't want her be hurt anymore," I firmly say, meaning every word.

"Fine, you will quit though," he says while turning his body around to rinse the foamy shampoo from his hair.

Sighing, I reach for the shampoo bottle in Hardin's hand but he pulls it away. "I'm serious, you aren't working for him anymore."

I understand his anger but this isn't the time to discuss this, "we will talk about it later," I tell him and finally manage to get the bottle into my hands. The water is growing colder by the minute and I would like to wash my hair.

"No," he jerks it back. I'm trying to stay calm and be as gentle as possible with him but he's making it difficult.

"I can't just quit my internship, it's not that simple. I would have to inform the University, fill out too much paperwork and give a solid explanation of what happened, then I would have to add classes to my schedule in the middle of the semester to make up for the credits I am receiving from Vance Publishing and since the deadline for financial aid has already passed I would have to pay out of pocket. I can't simply just quit. I will try to figure something out but I need a little time, please," I give up on washing my hair.

"Tessa, I literally couldn't give a fuck less about you having to file some paperwork, this is my family." he says and guilt takes over.

He's right, isn't he? I don't know but his busted lip and bruised nose make it feel that way. "I know, I'm sorry. I just need to find another internship first, that's all I'm asking," Why am I asking? "I mean saying, that's what I'm saying, is that I need a little time. I'm already going to have to go into a hotel as it is," the anxiety of being homeless, jobless, and once again, friendless is taking over my mind.

"You won't be able to find another internship anyway, not a paying one." He harshly reminds me. I knew that already, but I was trying to force myself into believing that I had a slight chance.

"I don't know what I'll do but I need some time, this is all such a mess." I step out of the shower and reach for a towel.

"Well you don't have much time to figure it out. You should just move back to Pullman with me," his words stop me in my tracks.

"Move back to Pullman?" I repeat, the thought alone makes me nauseous. "I'm not moving back there and after last weekend, I don't even want to visit there again, let alone move back there. That isn't an option." I wrap the towel around my wet body and leave the bathroom.

I reach for my phone and panic when I see five missed calls and two text messages. All from Christian Vance. The text messages are both pleas to have Hardin call him right away.

"Hardin," I call to him.

"What?" He snaps. I roll my eyes and swallow my annoyance.

"Christian has called, a lot."

He emerges from the bathroom with a towel draped around his waist.

"And?"

"What if something happened to your mother, don't you want to call and be sure?" I ask him, "or I could call for you," I add.

"No, fuck both of them. Don't call them." 

"Hardin, I really think-"

"No." he interrupts me.

"I already sent a text to him, just to be sure your mother is okay," I admit.

"Of course you did," he grimaces.

"I know you are upset but please stop taking it out on me. I'm really trying to be here for you but you have to stop snapping at me, this isn't my fault."

"I'm sorry," both hands run over his wet hair. "Let's both just turn our cell phones off and get some sleep," his voice ha calmed and his eyes have softened tremendously.

"My shirt is stained," he says, dragging the bloodied shirt across the floor, "and I don't know where the other one is,"

"I'll get it from the suitcase,"

"Thank you," he sighs. The fact that he finds as much comfort in me wearing his clothing makes me happy, even in the middle of this disastrous night. I retrieve the shirt he wore earlier today and hand him clean boxers to sleep in before refolding the articles in the suitcase.

"I'm going to move the flight when I wake up, I can't concentrate right now," he sits on the edge of the bed for a moment before laying down.

"I can do it," I offer, pulling his laptop from the suitcase.

"Thanks," he grumbles, half asleep already.

Seconds later he mutters, "I wish I could take you away, far away," my hands still on the keyboard and I wait for him to say something else but he breaks into soft snores.

I wish the same Hardin, now more than ever.

As I pull up the airlines website, my phone vibrates on the table. Christian Vance's name pulls up on the screen. I ignore the first call but when a second comes in, I grab the room key and quietly retreat to the hallway to answer.

"Hello," I try to whisper.

"Tessa? How is he?" Christian's voice is panicked.

"He's.. he's okay. His nose is bruised and swollen, his lip is busted, and he has a few bruises and cuts here and there," I don't hide the hostility in my tone.

"Damn it," the man breathes. "I'm so sorry that it came to this,"

"Me too," I snap at my boss and try to ignore the hideous painting in front of me.

"I need to talk to him, I know he's confused and pissed off but I need to explain some things to him,"

"He doesn't want to talk to you and honestly, why should he? He trusted you and you know that his trust is hard to come by." I lower my voice. "You are engaged to a lovely woman and Anne was supposed to be getting married tomorrow,"

"She's still getting married," he says through the line.

"What?" I walk further down the hall. I stop in front of the peaceful painting of the kneeling angel but the more I look at it, the darker it becomes. Behind the angel is another, almost translucent angel, holding a double sided dagger in his palm. The brown haired maiden is watching him, waiting for the assault on the kneeling angel with a sinister smile. The devious angel's face is contorted, deep angles and planes cover his naked body.Tthe blade is a double sided, anger and passion on either end, circling, waiting to strike the back in front of him. I look away and focus on the voice on the other end of the line.

"the wedding has not been cancelled,"

"But-"

"Robin loves Anne and she loves him, they will still be married tomorrow despite my mistake," the words sound as if he's struggling to pull them out.

I have so many questions to ask him but I can't. He's my boss and his affair is with Hardin's mother, this is none of my business.

"I know what you must think of me Tessa, but if I am able to explain myself then maybe you both could understand,"

"He wants me to change the tickets and leave in the morning," I inform him.

"He can't leave without saying goodbye to his mum, it will kill her,"

"I don't think it's in the best interest of anyone to allow him in the same room as her," I warn and walk back to the room, standing just outside the door.

"I understand your need to protect him and it pleases me greatly to see how fierce you are for him, but that woman has had a hard enough life as it is, it's time for her to have some happiness. I don't expect him to show for the wedding but please do what you can to have him at least say goodbye to her, God knows how long it will be until he comes back to England." Christian sighs.

"I don't know," I run my fingers along the bronze frame of the dark painting, "I will see what I can do but I can't promise anything. I won't push him."

"I understand, thank you." the relief in his voice is clear.

"Mr. Vance?" I say just before hanging up.

"Yes, Tessa?"

"Will you tell Kimberly?" I hold my breath and wait for his answer to my highly inappropriate question.

"Of course I will tell her," he softly responds, his accent thick and smooth. "I love her more than my own life, please understand that." The desperation in his words brings tears to my eyes.

"Okay," I'm trying to understand but the only image I can see is Kimberly smiling in their kitchen, her head tipped back in laughter and his eyes sparking as he watches her in amazement as if she's the only woman in his world. Does he look at Anne that way?

"Thank you. Let me know if you need anything. Again, I'm sorry for what you saw earlier and I hope that your opinion of me hasn't been completely tarnished," he says and hangs up the phone.

I take one last glance at the hideous monster on the wall and walk back into the hotel room.

 (How is everyone's week so far? I hope it's well! Something weird is happening to my message board, some of the messages have went missing, I'm working to get them back so if your message isn't there I'm sorry! I still read all of them by the way, I just can't always respond to everyone but I still read them and I love them so much so thank you for always leaving me sweet messages to make my day! I love you all! )

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