Page 45 of Heart Sick Hate

She shakes her head and rolls her shoulders back, swallowing down the choked breaths coming out.

“Echo—”

“I’m fine.” But she doesn’t sound it. “You wanted to know. Well, there you have it. The reason I’m a virgin is because it’s my choice when and how I give that up. Not my mother’s. Not some random boyfriend’s. And not Rhett’s. I’ll lose it how I want to, to the person I want to. And I didn’t expect it to take twenty-three years, but shit happens. It wasn’t like I was holding onto it on purpose.”

“But now you’re on a timeline.” It hits me like cement drying in my stomach.

She came to me now because the wheels are in motion. Whatever deal was made eight years ago has started to take form. She’s marrying my brother, and if she doesn’tlose her virginity now, on her own terms, she’s worried she’ll never get the chance.

Whatever twisted obsession I have with this girl is one-sided.

Like always, she’s Goldilocks, walking in and making a giant fucking mess, just so she can walk out unscathed.

And it pisses me off.

That some man broke her. That her mother was a piece of shit. That everything before now turned her into a girl who feels the need to even do this.

But even more, it pisses me off that she’s using me, and it means absolutely nothing to her when I can’t get her out of my head.

Once more, I’m the brother good enough to do the dirty tasks, brushed aside once my use is diminished.

“Come on.” I stand up, sliding off my stool and putting as much distance between us as I can. “I’ll take you home. You need to sober up.”

Her eyebrows pinch. Anger, hurt, a collage of emotions bleeding together. Every feeling painting her face as I shut down and try to put a cap on whatever is fizzing and trying to get out.

I should be comforting. She just opened herself up to me and spilled her darkest secrets. But I’m stuck between the knot in my throat and the rage bubbling in my chest. I need to get her out of here.

Get her away from me.

Before I break her even more than she already is.

13

Echo

I’m swimming.

Deep.

My fingers can’t find the surface.

Pressure builds in my ears and my heart makes thunder in the silence of the ocean.

Floating, I almost reach it… hope.

But right as I do, hands wrap my wrists and drag me under.

My eyes fly open, and I shoot upright. Blinking, I grasp at my sheets and take in my room. The sun filters through a slit in the curtains, and I inhale a desperate breath.

I’m here.

I’m safe.

Dropping my head back to my pillow, I blink up at the ceiling and try to ignore that the four walls of my room areclosing in.

I reach for my phone and check the time, seeing it’s three minutes until my alarm goes off, and I feel like I’ve barely slept. At least I only have one appointment today. Then I can return to the shell I’ve spent the past week hiding in.

Ever since I went out to the bar with Maren last weekend, time is painfully slow.

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