Page 121 of Piece Us Together

Because I ruin every fucking thing I touch.

“Maison?”

“I’m sorry,” I say to them. Then to Hunter, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Did I ruin it? I didn’t mean to ruin it.Please.”

“Shh.” Hunter moves until he’s right in front of me again. “You didn’t ruin it, okay? Everything is alright.”

“Hunter,” Wells warns, not liking how close we are to each other.

Hunter keeps his eyes on me as he says, “The two of you need to leave, James. I’m serious.”

“Hunter—”

“Red.” He looks away from me then, eyes on Wells. I can’t see his expression, but whatever it is has Wells’s whole demeanor changing. Or maybe that’s just the use of the safeword. “This is my boy. I get to decide how I handle this. Leave.”

Wells gives me one more look. It’s full of warning, like he can see right through me, like he knows I don’t deserve the man that just called me his boy, like he knows I’m going to ruin everything if I haven’t already.

Then he takes Jaxon under his arm and leads him to the door. The coat and shoe racks are on the opposite side of where Hunter and I are. I squeeze my eyes shut as they get ready to leave. There’s a hesitation, a moment with no movement or words, before they open the door. The air is cold as it rushes in, but I barely feel it.

Will Hunter hurt me for fucking up? Will he make me bleed? Will he forgive me after? Will he at least take Nolan back if he won’t take me?

“Look at me,” Hunter orders.

I’m too weak to fight. I open my eyes and look at him. He’s got that calm, firm expression he gets whenever he starts a scene with us. It’s the blank slate before we’ve pleased him orturned him on. Like a default mode. It’s better than looking disappointed, but I still hate it.

He’s just a dom right now. A default. Not mine. Not even Nolan’s, most likely. He’s nothing but an unattached dominant handling a bad boy.

Because I ruined it.

I ruined everything.

Why do I have to do that? Why am I like this? Why can’t I just be good?

“I just want to be good!” I whisper.

His face transforms into one of sadness.

I make him sad.

The fact that I can’t be good makes him sad.

Me too,I want to tell him.You have no idea how sad I am too.

“I’m sorry.” I suck in gasping breaths. I think he’s saying something, but everything is ringing and awful and I think I might pass out because the breaths I’m taking in don’t feel like they’re working and my legs are weak andI’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it, please, I didn’t mean to, I can’t help it, I’m just bad, I’m so bad, I think I was made this way, I think I’m just bad, bad, bad and I don’t know how to stop it.

A hand suddenly tightens around my throat, bringing everything into sharp focus. I suck in a breath. It’s difficult, but only because of the grip, not because of panic. I feel my whole body go calm as the hand squeezes harder. Hunter controls it now. Controls me. Controls my very breath.

My brain suddenly feels…quiet.

Our eyes lock. His are hard, but not in an angry or disapproving way. It’s hiswhat I say goeslook. The one he gives me when I push at a boundary or Nolan tries to sweet talk his way into something.

The hand softens, just a touch. “What’s your safeword?”

Something inside of me quakes. “Red.”

“And if you can’t talk? Do you remember?”

“Two taps, anywhere against you.”

---