AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I liked that he was a little fucked up.
I adored his sharp edges, and I loved his broken pieces.
I liked him even though I knew he’d just given my classmate everything Paul had tried to give me.
What did that say about me?
I just fucking liked him.
So much that it hurt the skin covering my chest.
Jesus.
Unable to stick the not knowing a second longer, I sprang to my feet and bolted for the staircase, catching a glimpse of Danielle in the doorway of the kitchen as I went.
Stay put.
Stay put.
Stay put.
Rounding the banister, I hurried past the room I’d shared with Paul a few hours ago and went straight for the door at the end of the hall.
It was cracked open, so when I slipped inside, I didn’t make a sound.
“Joey?” I whispered into the darkness, as I felt my way over to the bed. Finding a lamp on the locker, I flicked it on, bathing the room in a soft yellow hue. “Joe?”
“Molloy,” he groaned, twisting his face into the mattress.
My heart both cracked and soared at the sound.
Soared because even in his worst state, he knew my voice.
Cracked because he was naked in another girl’s bed, with a used condom strewn on the bedroom floor.
“Are you okay?” I heard myself ask, heart racing, as I looked down at where he was sprawled out, what I presumed, naked under Danielle’s pink floral duvet.
The covers were draped over his hips, leaving the rest of his body exposed, and revealing a huge crucifix tattoo on his back.
“No,” Joey groaned, keeping his face buried in the sheets. “Fuck.”
Exhaling a shaky breath, I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed next to him. “What did you take?”
“I fucked up, Molloy,” he slurred, twisted his head from side to side. “Again.”
“Yeah, you did.” Sighing heavily, I placed my hand on his shoulder, and watched as the muscles in his back physically tensed under my touch. “What am I going to do with you, huh?”
My breath hitched in my throat at the sight when my gaze landed on a long, five- or six-inch scar going diagonally across his back. It was concealed behind the crucifix tattoo, but if you looked close enough it was plain to see.
“Is that from a belt?” I heard myself whisper, not even trying to stop myself from trailing a finger over the other deep ridges and grooved scars that seemed to be littered across his flesh. Most seemed old, like they had been imprinted on him a long time ago, but some of them were more recent. “And this one?”
“Probably,” he mumbled drowsily “Don’t look.”
“What happened to your back, Joe?” Heart in my mouth, I continued to trail my fingers over his marred skin, feeling the ache in my chest spread as the seconds passed by. “Where did all these scars come from – and don’t say fighting.”
“Fighting,” he said anyway, before rolling onto his back. “Christ, my head is hopping.”
“Yeah,” I replied, reaching up to smooth his blond hair back. “I bet it is.”
