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I hate myself a little more for what I’ve just done, but there are no take-backs in this life. By the time I start the SUV again and pull out onto the road, Claire is passed out in the passenger’s seat, and I’m left with my thoughts, wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my life by hurting her again.
“Happy birthday, butterfly,” I whisper. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just can’t.”
I’d rather die a thousand times over than hurt her, but I’m not the hero she thinks I am. It’s time she saw the real me. It’s time she realized the man that killed her father that night is the man I am every day, the man I hide from her, so I don’t risk hurting her again.
Maybe in protecting her, I’m only elongating her pain? Maybe if she sees the real me, her own obsession will die?
21
Claire
There is a moment just before I open my eyes where I actually wonder if I was in an accident last night. I half expect to be in a hospital bed since I feel like I got run over by a bus. When I do open my eyes, I’m inside my room.
Without turning my head, I can see the ceiling and the very top of my dark blue curtains. I’ve never been so glad about having blackout curtains before. The heavy material is only letting partial light filter into the room, and that is already enough to make my eyes hurt.
Now that I think about it, everything hurts—my eyes, brain, throat, stomach… everything.
“Ugh,” I groan, and even that hurts.
If my throat wasn’t so dry and my bladder wasn’t insisting on me using the bathroom, I would probably not move at all. But as is, I’m forced to make myself move.
With my eyes closed, I slowly turn around and prop myself up on my elbow. The room spins, and I suck in a deep breath before blinking my eyes open again.
I stare at the man sitting in the chair in the corner of my room. I blink a few more times. Then stare again.
“Good morning, butterfly,” Lucca greets me like it’s the most normal thing for him to be in my room, watching me sleep.
I don’t know how long I sit there and stare at him, but it feels like a very long time. Slowly, very slowly, my brain wakes up, and bits and pieces of last night come back to me.
The club… shots… Lucca… the car ride home…
Did he?
No. I must have dreamed that. There is no way he touched me. Only the more I think about it, the more I think he did.
“I…” I start, not sure what to say. I sit up a little more, making the blanket slide off my chest and making me realize that I’m basically naked. Scooting around a bit, I conclude I am only wearing panties. Frantically, I fist the blanket and clutch it to my chest.
“You puked on yourself on the way in,” Lucca explains.
Oh, great. Just great.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” I announce.
Keeping the blanket tightly wrapped around my body, I get up slowly and make my way into the bathroom. Only when I’m inside with the door closed, do I feel like I can breathe again.
Fuck, what a nightmare. This is not how I imagined seeing Lucca again.
I drop the blanket and strip out of my panties. The moment I bend down to get my legs out of the silky fabric, the entire room spins again, and I have to hold on to the edge of the counter, so I don’t fall over.
I’m never drinking again.
Turning on the shower, I wait until it’s hot before I step under the spray and let the scolding water wash away the broken up memories of last night.
I normally don’t take long showers, but today, I stay in until the water runs cold and my skin is all wrinkly. I dry off just to realize I didn’t bring any clothes with me. Shit.
When I finally build up the courage to leave the bathroom, I open the door just a smidge and stick my head out. I’m both disappointed and relieved to find my room empty.
Did he just leave?
That would be something Lucca would do. Come barreling back into my life just to disappear as fast as he barged in.
I get dressed into the most comfortable thing I can find and shove my feet into a pair of fuzzy socks. Since I feel slightly more human after my shower, I decide to go downstairs and face whatever the universe has to throw at me today. I don’t think my parents are home, but I’m sure Carter is downstairs, and possibly Lucca.
I leave my room and make my way to the kitchen. Every step I take rattles my brain slightly and sends another burst of pain through my skull. If it wasn’t for that, I would pick up my speed, so I can yell at Lucca sooner.
