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You are mine, and I don't give up what's mine. Not ever.
He just said those words, and they’re all I can hear in my head. Unbeknownst to him, they’re the most believable thing he’s ever said to me. I know I’m his. I know this because I wanted him. Hell, dare I say I loved him. I mean, part of me, most of me still does, but I’m not telling him that. He doesn’t deserve to have that kind of power in his hands.
“Good for you, but you’re wasting your time. I don’t want you, so unless you plan to force me into everything for the rest of your life, I’d choose otherwise.” The words taste bitter on my tongue as I expel them.
“Whatever you say, Flower.” His tone is nearly mocking, and I snarl at him when I see the smile on his lips.
I push away from him and his unforgiving grip and spin into the open air, the bottle of vodka my only remaining lifeline. If I plan to sober up, then I’ll need to stop drinking, but that’s not going to happen with this asshole in front of me.
I can feel his eyes on me. He’s watching me, ensuring I don’t get too far away. Forever the gatekeeper. That’s all he wants is to keep me so that no one else can have me. He doesn’t really want me.
"Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know what.”
He shakes his head. “No, I really don’t. I’m just watching you. I didn’t know it was a crime to look at someone.”
“Watching someone is not what you’re doing. You’re stalking me. I’m not your prey.”
He doesn't reply, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets before continuing to survey me. A cold breeze whips through the trees, and I bite my bottom lip to stop my teeth from chattering. "Here, take my jacket." He quickly strips his coat from his shoulders, leaving himself in a long-sleeved black Henley.
He doesn’t give me the opportunity to object, and instead gently places it over my shoulders. The smoky scent of him wafts from the warmth of the coat, and I want to hug it tight to my chest and just breathe him in. I should toss it on the ground and stomp it into the dirt, but my heart won’t let me.
Drew's eyes track me as I pace around him. The trees are right here, and memories of the night I spent running through those woods come rushing back to me.
What am I doing here, drowning in Drew?
In our relationship, in our history? Why do I put myself through this?
He’s never going to give you up. He’s never going to stop wanting you.
I suck a ragged breath into my lungs, the cool air melting away a little bit more of the vodka hazing my mind.
I need to think about something else. Anything but us.
Whirling around, I face him and ask, "How's school?"
His forehead wrinkles with confusion, and he cocks his head to the side like he's waiting for me to tell him a joke. "What?"
"School. I stopped tutoring you. Are you passing your classes? Did you find another tutor?"
"Please tell me you’re kidding? Do you really care about that? And are we really going to discuss it here...and of all times, now?"
I snort and slip on the wet grass, catching myself on a nearby tree trunk. “If you want the truth, Mr. Marshall, no, I don't really give a shit, but you refuse to let me leave, and I’d rather talk about something else.”
This makes him clench his jaw. "We need to talk about us."
I shake my head and circle the tree with my bottle of vodka. "We’ve tried that a couple of times, and it failed. I think that ship has sailed.”
He steps toward me, and I keep the tree between us as protection.
“Like I already said, I don't care. I’m not going anywhere.”
I turn my back to the tree and bring the bottle of vodka to my lips. I take a long swig, chasing the buzz I had earlier, praying it erases the memory of him. I need something to dull the ache in my chest before it swallows me whole.
Off in the distance, there’s shouting. We both glance in the direction, and Drew takes a step toward the noise, his eyes tracking dark shapes that appear on the lawn. My glasses are blurry, so I can't quite make the shapes out completely.
