AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pulls me up, grabbing me by the waist and lifting me into the room. He tumbles to the ground, and I fall on top of him, our bodies a mass of limbs.
He grabs my shoulders, pushing me back to look me in the face. "What the fuck just happened?"
Another sob breaks from my chest, and pure, hateful anger lights me up. My hand cocks back, and I crack him in the eye. My fingers instantly scream in agony at the force. "You fucking bastard! I almost died!" Tears flood my eyes, rolling down my cheeks and falling onto his bare chest. He looks shocked, pissed as hell, and a little worried.
I spit in his face.
It lands on his cheek, sliding down to his tense jaw.
"I fucking hate you."
Standing up, I fold my shirt to cover myself, and go to run out of here. Away from him. Out of this room. I never should have come in here. I never should have slept with him.
His fingers latch around my ankle, and he pulls me to the ground. My elbows slam into the floor, and I let out a cry in pain. "Ow! Fucking hell!"
He whips me around, my spit still dripping down his cheek as he drags his body over mine. "I don't—I don't fucking know what happened." He grinds his jaw. Is he angry at me? Or angry at the unknown? "I keep… missing fucking pieces. I'm here one second, then in the next blink I'm somewhere else. I'm taking a fucking shower, and then you're falling from a window. I don't understand." His nostrils flare, and his eyes narrow. "But I could cut off your fucking tit, and I don't give a shit how pissed you are, punch me in the face again, spit in my face again, and I'll toss you from the window next time." His tongue rolls around his mouth, and he spits, a giant, hot glob of Malik slapping against my forehead. "There you go, baby."
My fingernails dig into the floor, and I press hard, feeling them crack. Needing the tension and the pain so I don't lose my damn shit.
He lifts himself off me, and I slide out, hopping to my feet running from the room as quickly as I can.
"Get fucking ready! We're leaving in fifteen minutes!"
I wipe the spit from my forehead and slam my door closed, walking to my closet and laying my fist into it as hard as I can. The wood splinters around my skin, and my knuckles immediately start bleeding from the shards of wood.
I stomp to my bed, falling face first onto my pillow and screaming so loud my vocal cords crack.
I hate him so damn much.
With my coffee in hand, I walk to Malik's car. My stomach turning from my meds, but unable to eat even a bite of food after the day—shit, week—I’ve had. He already sits inside, the engine running as he waits for me. I avoided him while I got ready, and I'm not afraid to admit I stretched out my time getting ready just to piss him off.
He says fifteen minutes?
He can wait twenty.
Son of a bitch almost killed me this morning.
I open the door, avoiding eye contact as I slip my backpack between my feet. Closing the door, I stare out the window as he starts driving down the driveway.
That's fine. We don't have to talk. Perfect.
The drive is silent, and I watch the morning fog rise from the trees, the darkness in the forest clearing. I crack my window, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The smoke trails through the crack, disappearing as it escapes the car.
His hand snaps out, and he lowers his window, tossing the cigarette from the car. “You aren’t supposed to smoke after a heart transplant. Are you a fucking idiot?” His words lash out at me, but he refuses to look at me.
My mouth pops open in outrage, and I go to pull another cigarette from the pack when he rips the entire package from my fingers, throwing them from the car as well. He slides the window up like it’s just another morning. “You aren’t smoking anymore.”
My nostrils flare. “The gall. Are you fucking serious? You have no say.”
He laughs, saying nothing else.
“I hate you. You know that? Like, honest to God despise you.”
Malik doesn't say a word, but I can feel the thick tension in the car. We both have so many things to say. Our laundry is dirty, and it desperately needs to be aired. But both of us are stubborn, and I don't think either one of us wants to be the first one to crack and talk about what the real problem is.
We are.
The tension is thick enough to slice with a blade. Even with my hate toward him, the chemistry I feel pumps like a perfect heart, steady and fucking heavy. I deny it in my brain, but it doesn’t stop the fact that I’m attracted to him. It doesn’t matter how my body heats when he’s around, it doesn’t matter how deep my hate runs for him, my body aches. It aches heavily for him, and I don’t think I can stop it, no matter how badly I want it to.
