Page 58 of Renegade Ruin

I don’t know what to think, other than I don’t deserve her.

And yet, I need her.

I need this ass backwards situation we’ve found ourselves in more than I need to sit in this chair and talk about my feelings.

“That’s all the time we have today.” Jolene sets her pen down on the notepad in her lap and looks up, offering me a smile. It’s not condescending or high-handed, but it irks me nonetheless. She knows as well as I do that I have to be here, but I can see she genuinely wants to help. I’m just not ready. Because what happens when I’m fixed? What does that mean? I can’t just forget my team. I don’t want to. But is there a world in which I can remember them and be healed? Willow seems to think so.

The cut in my soul is deep, but I don’t think I can survive bleeding out any longer.

I stand and head toward the door, but my feet turn to cinder blocks. Instead of taking a step forward, I sigh and shake my head.

“I’m sick of living a life where everything hurts.” It hurts to admit it out loud, but surprisingly feels like a small weight has been lifted.

Jolene’s brows raise, and a tiny smirk lifts the corner of her mouth. “What was that?”

“Fuck,” I curse, rolling my eyes because I know damn well she heard me. “You asked me why I’m here. The pain is beginning to become a part of the fabric of who I am as a person, and while I could easily live that way, I’m not sure I want to.”

Not after seeing the way Willow looked at me. The way she has multiple times, only I was too stupid to see it. Like I’m worth fighting for. I don’t believe it, but there is a tiny spark in me that wants to, and for now, that will have to be enough.

Jolene hesitates, then gives a slight nod. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It tells me that you’re less angry about attending these sessions and more angry about why you have toattend. Something for you to think about. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”

All that from one tiny admission.

My mouth gapes for a moment before I school my features and exit her office. If I stayed, I’d say something I couldn’t take back.

How dare she blame the team? This isn’t on them. It’s because of my inability to control the ache in my chest. It’s not their fault they died. They should be here. They should–

Fuck, I need a drink.

I’m halfway tempted to drive to the nearest bar and forget this whole day ever happened. Then I remember I have another way to forget.

One that’s got soft curves and a delicious ass I’d love to smack.

The drive to the beach house is filled with screaming at the top of my lungs to my favorite 2000s pop punk playlist in the rental truck. The guys used to make fun of me, but the sounds of my youth just hit different, and right now, I need anything to keep me from spiraling into thoughts of healing and how much it all terrifies me.

I glance at the clock and see I’m an hour early, meaning Willow is likely still in her meeting. For a split second, I consider turning around, but going back to the hotel for an hour would absolutely lead to dwelling on all the revelations I’ve made over the last twenty-four hours.

Nope.

I need release.

I need a safe space.

And as much as I hate to admit it, Willow can give me both of those things.

Fuck, that woman has buried herself under my skin, and I’m torn as to how I feel about it.

By the time I pull up to the house and make my way to the door, I can’t tell if my nerves are fried or shaking with anticipation. Maybe it’s a little of both.It’s not like I know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before. No strings attached. Usually, I’m very attached and ready to declare my epic love by the sixth date. Willow and I are more than halfway there if you count New Year’s and the party, plus the hotel and equipment room trysts.

It’s a good thing you promised her no feelings,Jackson jests.

Exactly. Because I’m not even considering love or what type of ring would look good on her delicate fingers. I’m not even wondering how I’m going to convince her to move in with me. The only thing I’m concerned with is what color panties I’ll be ripping from her tight little cunt.

Sure it is.

I know Jackson and Tommy don’t believe me. Even if they were the ones who’d said I needed to play the field for a year and stay out of anything serious. They were also the two who heckled me the most about Willow. They knew she was different. They just wanted what was best for me.

We still do.

---