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I don’t want to face them.
Anyone.
After seeing that.
Saving me.
I wish I’d never gone out tonight. I wish I’d never taken those pills. I wish the men I’m addicted to weren’t inside this house.
I want to peel off my skin, inch by inch, I want to boil my blood, drink bleach, step into fire, anything to get the feel ofhimoff of my skin.
Tears burn the backs of my eyes as I think of Raiden, holding my hand, kissing my knuckles, his own split,for me.
Lifting a shaky hand to my face, I touch my cheek, still hot from where Chris smacked me, but I’m fucked up too, because I like the feeling, what it reminds me of.
My worth.
I drop my head back, hair down my spine, the ends in the water, think of Raiden running this bath for me, in Bennett’s bathroom. All slate grey tiles and silver accents. Fluffy black towels and an unnecessary amount of mirrors on the walls, only a small window set high up in the wall to my back. It smells like him in here, bergamot and tobacco. A scent I’ve tried to block from my memory.
Candles flicker, the overhead lights off and it’s like my own personal cave. Warm light, hot water, steam wafting off the top as I lie chin deep in the tub.
I think of the men, just on the other side of this door, how I wish they were mine, but they can’t ever be.
I slept with Flynn.
I slept with Bennett first.
I’m in their house, but I can’t get reattached. I’m supposed to be keeping my distance. I’m supposed to be letting them live their lives. Be free of burdens. I’m always going to be a burden. I wonder how long until Dad gets completely bored of dealingwith me and locks me up in Briarmoor for the rest of my life. He could do that, if he wanted to, what with his Deputyship. A court ruled piece of paper that makes him my owner.
I will never have control over my own life.
I hear Chris’ words inside my head,‘You were promised tome,Poppy.’
My skin crawls, and I want to tear it off.
My father’s just moving my ownership from him to another. Like a blind adoption from the pound. I’d rather be euthanised.
I bury my face in my wet hands. Breathe deep, catch Bennett’s scent again, and hate that it calms me so easily. Soothes me. Like he did in the passenger seat of his car. I don’t think he really wanted me inside his car, I don’t think he even really wanted to fuck me. I don’t know what the fuck that was. But I remember the feeling of self loathing that followed me afterwards.
I think of red chestnut eyes, bleached blonde hair and golden tanned, tattooed skin. Full peach lips, a straight nose, tiny dimple in the centre of his chin. A freckle beneath his right eye, another along the curve of his cheekbone, just beneath the other.
Lynx and I, we reached somewhere high up in the galaxy together on that first night that the rest of the boys couldn’t have imagined.
I wanted Lynx to be mine.
Right then.
When he held me and we were strangers, but we tangled and it was so right, I wasn’t even scared.
The feelings that flooded through me, something like love, a welcome dagger in my chest.
That’s why, I think, he hurt me the most.
Because even when he thought he wanted to, he didn’t really want to hurt me at all.
King was the one I fell for next.
Solid and surly, his presence like a wash of ice, a flash of heat, goosebumps, heart pitter-patters and rushing blood through my veins. He was my foundation. Sure and stable, smart and confident. Gentle with me in a way I’m not sure he’s ever been before. His heart felt like it was for me. Violently torn from his chest and placed gently in hands, delicate and fragile. I would keep it safe.
