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“Was that supposed to bother me? I chose to drop my baggage, remember? I commend her for taking on the burden of such irreparable damage.”
I regretted the jab as soon as I said it. I’d gone too far. A voice in my head screamed at me to take it back, but I couldn’t.
It was too late, and, despite the words being untrue, their venom would burn all the same. He took a step away, letting me go with the smallest shove, his jaw clenching. That small display of emotion told me I’d just hurt him far more than he’d ever let on. He was always so controlled and cynical, keeping his troubles and secrets to himself.
“You didn’t choose shit. If I wanted you, I’d have you.” He shook his head. “Your brother told me you’d never amount to anything more than a warm body.”
“I—"
“He said I should fuck you once or twice and then drop your ass for good. And to think I ruined his life over him telling the truth…”
I knew precisely which brother he was referring to, and holy fuck. That was a low blow. It felt like he’d just sucker punched me in the gut. My mask momentarily slipped; my throat bobbed as I swallowed.
Don’t you dare cry, the voice in my head seethed. I turned away just as Dawn caught up to where we were standing.
“Hey,” she chirped. “Is everything okay?”
I could hear the genuine concern in her voice as she picked up on the obvious strain.
I didn’t bother looking back or listening for his response. I couldn’t take seeing them together right now, and I didn’t want to dig the hole I was in any deeper.
You weren’t supposed to allow words to hold power over you. You weren’t supposed to let them hurt.
And they didn’t.
They obliterated.
They burrowed into my soul and engraved themselves on the bleeding pieces of my heart. It was impossible to argue with someone who seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. Every time pointless hate spewed from our mouths, the decision I’d come to weighed on me that much more.
If we kept this up, there’d be nothing left of us when the shrapnel from our bullets finally turned to dust.
CHAPTER SIX
He said wildflowers made him think of me. Every morning there was a fresh bundle waiting when I woke.
Today wasn’t any exception.
A triangle of early morning light shined through my Tiffany Blue curtains, and there on the dresser, just in front of the window, sat a white bouquet, handmade and carefully wrapped together with a thin black ribbon—black being my favorite color.
Whoever said it wasn’t a color could kiss my ass. Black was the outcast on the spectrum, often used to represent darkness. It reminded me of him. Maybe that’s why I loved it so much. Samael had never forgot that either.
I don’t know where he went to get the flowers, or why, but he never skipped a day and always made sure I was asleep before slipping in here to deliver them. I’d tried to catch him in the act, failing time and time again.
I anxiously anticipated when he would stop. I didn’t deserve this gesture from him in the first place, but no matter how badly we cut each other down, regardless of how we made the other hurt, he continually reminded me he wasn’t going anywhere. He hadn’t forgotten about me.
In that regard, he kept the promise we’d made to one another.
Tossing the comforter off by kicking at it, I sat up and swept a hand through my hair to move it out of my face, blinking to clear the sleep from my eyes. Aside from the faint squeaking sound coming from the main room, the cabin was still and silent. If Samael had slept here last night, he was long gone by now.
The clock on the far wall had stopped ticking at a quarter past midnight going on three days ago. I really needed to do something about that, but then what would be the point? It wouldn’t matter soon anyway.
If I had to guess, it was breakfast time, which meant I needed to get my butt in gear. I got up and shuffled over to the dresser, opening a few different drawers to compile a simple outfit. Underwear. Bra. Shorts. Simple tank, socks, and an overshirt. I’m sure you can guess what color everything was.
Bundle of clothes in hand, I pushed through the piece of fabric that served as a door to my room and cut across the sole portion of the cabin. It wasn’t a big space, but it was undeniably cozy. The AC in the front window was the culprit for the squeaking. This machine was a life saver. Without it we’d be like pigs roasting on a spit in here.
There was a living area, kitchen, and a small space for a table. While the furniture was scarce, all of it was in fairly good shape. Amazing shape, when you took into consideration that it had to be brought to what was basically the middle of the damn woods.
