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Pulling out my phone, I check the cameras they installed and see them walking away. Part of me is hurt that they are leaving so easily.
Am I that easy to get over and forget? Was it just a job?
Part of me is glad they left, but part of me wants them to make it better like they always do. I’m confused, and it hurts so fucking much.
My entire life implodes around me again, the one I rebuilt from ashes and promised to protect.
I crawl to my knees and then stumble to my feet, then I storm to the control room, remembering what Cillian showed me. I turn off the servers, the cameras, so they can’t see into my house.
They don’t fucking get that right.
Anger consumes me alongside pain, blinding me to anything else. I find myself in the kitchen, and I swipe a bottle of vodka, ripping off the cap and downing some.
The burn lights me up and enhances my anger as I wander through my empty house. Every room is a reminder of them. The kitchen where we ate every morning. The living room where we had movie nights. Their bedroom . . . My bedroom.
At the doorway to my room, the bottle hangs from my limp fingers as I look around, remembering the way they made love to me. How could they? How could they look me in the eye and make all those promises while lying?
“Fuck them!” I shout, throwing the bottle. It hits the light and shatters. Screaming, I swipe my hand across my side table, watching it all fall and shatter. Storming to the bed, I rip at the sheets.
When I come out of my fit of rage, I’m in the middle of my destroyed bedroom.
Sobbing, I pull at my necklace and toss it into the destruction. I go to rip off the bracelet, but for some reason, I can’t, and that only makes me cry harder.
I feel myself spiraling. I feel the need to run, to get far away where they can never hurt me again.
I don’t want to lose myself like last time. Whimpering, I crawl through the mess, cutting my knees until I find my phone, dialing blindly.
“Hello?” the voice answers.
“I need you,” I beg.
* * *
“Well, shit.” Beck whistles, leaning into the doorway as she surveys the mess. “I respect the anger.” Carefully stepping over glass, she slides down the bed to sit next to me. I look like a fucking mess, but she was the only person I could think to call. “I would say you are okay, but you aren’t. What happened, and who do I need to kill?”
Lifting the bottle, I take a drink. “They lied to me.”
“Who did?” she asks before her eyes widen, no doubt realizing my usual followers are nowhere to be seen. “No fucking way.”
Her disbelief makes it worse, sending another wave of agony through me.
“Way.” I hand over the bottle. She takes it and drinks before wiping her mouth. “They lied to me this whole time. I loved them, Beck. I let them in. I told them things not even Tucker knew, and it was all a lie.”
“Fucking assholes, want me to kill them?” she snaps, dead serious.
I snatch the bottle back and down more. “No, I just want to forget. I want to be numb. It’s selfish and dumb, but I didn’t want to be alone. I’m so tired of doing everything alone.”
“I’m glad you called. I can’t help with the pain, but numbness and forgetting? That we can do.” Standing, she offers me her hand. “Come on, Reign. Fuck those dumb, hot idiots. Let’s get you hammered.” I look up at her and place my hand in hers. She yanks me to my feet and winces. “We have to do something about your face first. You look like someone punched a panda.”
I bark out a laugh despite myself, and she grins.
“There she is,” she whispers, squeezing my hand in reassurance. “Don’t let them win. Don’t you fucking dare, Reign.” I flinch, and she holds my hand tighter. “Get even, get angry, and get over them. Do whatever the fuck you have to do, but don’t let them win. It might feel hopeless now, but you’re not alone, and remember there is always a way out.”
“I love them,” I admit.
It’s the first time I’ve said it out loud.
I should be happy, but I’m just numb.
