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“Well, that went about as well as I thought it would, which by the way, why the fuck did you tell her?” Devon is already at the alcohol stand.
“Because he is going to tell her anyway, and because I knew she’d break your fucking nose.”
“Damn,” Devon says, swiping the blood while flinching. “I think it is actually broken.”
“Call the doc.” I pull my phone out of my pocket, typing out a text.
“B?” Devon calls softly as my hand rests on the door handle. “You just lost her, you know that, right?”
Pain. “We both did, motherfucker.”
A love lost wasn’t yours to keep.
-Isa
I pace around my room for hours, thinking back to everything that just came to life. I let it stew in my brain.
My father hates me. Why else would he do all that he has done? I knew I was a rebel child. I was always doing things I shouldn’t do just to piss him off, but beneath it all, I wanted his attention. A child should never have to fight for their parent’s attention.
How could he not see that?
Part of my heart has broken beyond repair. Not all wounds can be fixed.
I want to hold my daughter. I need my daughter. I need to feel real love. The kind that isn’t conditional or filthy.
I tap out the numbers on my phone and bring it to my ear.
She picks up on the fourth ring. “I’m coming.”
“Is it safe?” she asks. It’s good that she asked. It’s why I can trust her.
“Yes. I’ll be there in one week. I have some things I need to sort out and then I’m done.” I breathe in and out. “How is she?”
Later that night, I call Max and invite him over. I have to keep up face with him, so he doesn’t know that I know who he is and what he’s done, but it’s hard. Every person I thought I could trust has let me down one way or another. Max is just another name to add to the list.
“You okay?” Max asks, running his finger down the side of my cheek. I search his face. His beard, his gentle eyes. His thick muscles. He’s hot. It’s a shame that he’s not who he says he is.
I wonder if he and his wife had a rule, like say, no sleeping with the psycho patient. I wonder just what their game is. You don’t need to learn the rules to break them, you just have to want to win bad enough.
I lean up on my tippy toes and bring my lips to his. Soft cushions melt into me as he pauses for a second, before slowly his lips part. He hooks his arm around the back of my waist, pulling me in closer until I’m crushed against his chest.
I shrug off my top and then reach for his. He hooks his arm around my back and pulls me farther into him. “You sure about this? I feel like your husband is watching.”
My eyes fly up to the little red light that’s flashing in the corner of my room. Bryant having cameras isn’t exactly shocking. He’s a control freak by nature, so the cameras are a given. It’s when he put that particular one in this bedroom that worries me.
I lean over until the tip of my tongue touches the warm skin of Max’s neck, my eyes remaining on the camera. “I’m counting on it.”
A resounding growl pulsates from his chest, as he picks me up from the floor and throws me onto my bed. His fingers flex around the buckle of his belt as he unbuttons his jeans, all while moving closer to the bed.
I lick my lips.
Bryant wants to play games?
Okay. Let’s play.
If he wants to see just how far done I am of his shit, then he can watch. Shrugging out of my jeans so I’m in nothing but my panties and bra, I grin up at Max as he lowers himself on top of me, his mouth back on mine.
I’m lost in the feelings that are buzzing inside of me. I’ve always used sex as a weapon against my demons. For those minutes, I feel good. Fulfilled. All of the empty and broken parts inside of me are mended back together for those minutes while it’s happening. The part that sucks is the aftermath. When your body declines and your mind spirals, and then all of a sudden, the wounds are back open again, only this time with more scar tissue. It’s a toxic cycle. The lead-up, the foreplay, the sex, and then the comedown. There was only one person who satiated me more than the others, and he and I hate each other right now. It’s also why Devon and I always worked. We were the same, only I’m not a coldhearted murderer.
