Page 186 of Losing Faith

I roll my eyes at hisDad tone,but as I try to walk away, he steps in my way again.

“Remember the reason you came here,” he whispers before kissing the top of my head.

Everything in me wants to fight and push him away so I can escape for another high, but before I can think about that option, he wraps his arm around my head, pressing my forehead to his chest.

I let my eyes fall shut as I breathe in his scent.

“What do you do when you normally feel like this?”

The first few things that come to mind are none he’ll let me do.

“Paint.” I settle on. I nod to myself as I think of my healthier coping mechanism. “I listen to music and paint.”

“Okay.” Jackson pulls away to kiss the top of my hair. “So let’s listen to music and paint.”

I nod in response and after another minute of collecting my thoughts, he takes my hand and pulls me into the living room. Isabelle sits beside me as her dad sets a playlist on and we get to painting.

The first half hour is torture, but eventually, I drown my feelings in the acrylic paint and bleed my pain onto the canvas.

“You should add—”

“Don’t.” I move Belle’s brush away from my canvas. “I’m not adding to yours. Don’t add to mine.”

Her brows pull together as she looks over at me and I silently curse myself for the harsh tone.

“You don’t want my help?”

“No thank you,” I voice more gently before pinching her cheeks

She studies me as if she can’t understand English. “Why not?”

I look down at the monstrosity on her canvas. Jackson stifles a laugh before pinching my waist and I bite my tongue as I choose my words wisely. “I just want to do this one on my own, but we can do one together later.”

She shrugs in return before turning back to her painting. When I finish mine, I lift it to get a better look.

“How do you pick what you’re going to paint?” Jackson questions from behind me.

“I kind of just start and whatever I’m feeling ends up on the canvas.”

He’s silent as we study the girl in my painting, curled up on a bed with a dark, large figure crawling towards her, nearly consuming her.

I let out a tired breath as I drop my canvas onto the table. I feel a tug on my shirt, and when I turn to Jackson, he nods for me to get closer. I almost tell him I’m fine, but instead of lying, I sit beside him.

He wraps an arm around me as I lean my head on him.

“How’s your leg?” He keeps his voice hushed, although I’m sure Isabelle isn’t paying us an ounce of attention.

“Honestly… my other leg wants a matching scar.” I gently run my finger along the bandage.

He squeezes me tighter and I pull in a deep breath before laying my head back and turning to him. He took his shirt off a while ago and I keep my focus on his chest.

“In case you wanted to skip a workout day, I prefer dad bods.” I trace his abs and in the corner of my eyes, I can see his smirk.

“Well then, I’ll be sure to get rid of the gym downstairs.”

I bite back a smile before leaning forward to kiss him. My lips press against his hungrily, and just as I deepen the kiss, he pulls away. He glances to the side and I remember Belle is still here, but she keeps her back to us as she paints.

I nod in return as I lay back again and a bitter feeling fills my mouth. I can sense the waves of anger and sadness pulling at me in every direction and I’m starting to become spread out too thin.

---