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More relief.
Always more fucking relief.
With one last look at the bloody, broken tile, I push from the wall and stumble into the shower, letting the water scald me, continuing to feed the need for pain.
“Yes,” I hiss as the water washes away the ants, the itching draining from my body as my skin turns red and prickles in an entirely different way.
Hanging my head, I watch as blood drips from my knuckles landing at my feet before the evidence of what I’ve done swirls down the drain.
She’s going to come back…
She’s not coming back.
She doesn’t want you.
She doesn’t need you.
Not like she does him.
You’re nothing.
No one.
A bit of fun to fill her time with.
It doesn’t matter how hard you’ve fallen.
You never stood a chance.
Tipping my head back, my chin drops as I roar out my frustrations in the hope of drowning out the voice.
But it doesn’t work.
It never fucking works.
7
ALANA
My skin burned with awareness the second Mav’s eyes landed on me from up on our deck.
But I didn’t turn to him and let him know I was so hyper-aware of him.
I always have been. I used to know when he walked into a room or came home without ever having to see him.
Our souls are just that entwined.
But since things have changed between us, I’m even more aware of him than ever.
Every glance, every touch—no matter how innocent—burns straight through me like a laser.
It’s incredible yet overwhelmingly frustrating.
Especially when he allowed me teasing kisses like in the car and the kitchen when we first arrived, and then backed away.
I want to shake him and demand to know what’s holding him back.
He wants it. God, does he want it.
