Page 51 of Silent Damage

Touching himself.

And I couldn’t resist.

His face when we locked eyes was so beautiful.

Those lips.

I wanted—

No!

Fuck that.

I was drunk, and that was old stuff creeping back into my heart because of what he did at dinner.

I can ignore it. I have to ignore it.

I stumble into the kitchen, desperate to find something to ease this headache.

Water? Coffee? Horse tranquilizers?

I’ll take anything at this point.

I look through the cabinets, then see a piece of paper folded on the table.

My name’s on it, and my gut starts making noises. Is it the alcohol or the dread of what I might find when I unfold it?

I don’t want to pick it up—

But I can’t stop myself.

Maybe it’s from Angie?

Please let it be from her—a number or something.

I open it up, and a chill runs up my spine.

My vision spins, and a sick feeling blooms in my stomach.

It’s a drawing of me.

Gabe.

It’s like looking at a black-and-white photo.

In the picture, I’m gripping my cock while chewing on my lower lip.

And there’s something else…

I see the writing scribbled at the bottom.

“We both know who you were thinking about last night.”

My breathing stops. My body goes numb, and the room starts spinning.

I clench the picture so hard that my hands shake.

The impulse to light this fucking thing on fire is strong, but something stops me.