Page 50 of Heart Sick Hate

It doesn’t matter.

I need to get out—to breathe. I need to escape. People can whisper all they want—think what they want. I don’t care.

14

Echo

The moment the doorto Jude and Fel’s apartment closes behind me, I pin my back to the wall beside it and take a deep breath. I focus on every inhale and exhale as the roof shrinks down and my lungs push back.

I focus on my promises.

My happiness isn’t worth going back to the unknown. A life with Rhett means I’ll always be cared for. It means keeping up my end of the deal that saved my father’s life. End of story. No matter what’s happening, I have no choice but to see this through.

Sealing my eyes, I take in another deep inhale. I hold it until it burns my lungs, and I have no choice but to let it go, along with everything else. I blink my eyes open and peel myself from the wall.

Once I sleep, I’ll feel better.

But just as I’m about to head home, the door opens again, and Crew slips out into the hallway behind me.

He’s still wearing the same T-shirt he was earlier today, looking too good, even if a little tired. He shuts the door and rests his back against it, his hand still on the handle. An unspoken conversation passes between us.

Words when there aren’t any.

Air.

Energy.

The lights flicker in the hallway—or maybe my brain circuits aren’t firing properly. I watch him watching me with the same expression I’ve been faced with all week. Empty eyes instead of the familiar heat in his predatorial gaze.

After a long moment, he lifts off the door and walks past me, to his own door across the hall. And when he swings it open and steps inside, he waits for me to follow because he knows I will.

I can’t help the destruction I cause both of us.

When he closes the door to his apartment, it’s silent, and there’s no sign of the small party across the hall. I follow him until he splits off to the kitchen to pour himself a drink, while I make my way to the couch.

“Strike out with blondie?” I ask, unable to help myself when he circles the couch and drops onto the cushion next to me.

“Not feeling it.” He takes a drink of his whiskey, mulling my attack over with amusement. “Where’d your boyfriend disappear to?”

“Home.”

“You sure?”

No.

He’s probably with Angelina, but I don’t need to give Crew any more ammunition.

“You’ve been avoiding me this week.” I twist my legs beneath me and turn to face him on the couch.

“Could say the same for you.” Crew sets his drink on the coffee table. One arm rests over the back of the couch, bringing us closer. “Scared you can’t control yourself around me?”

“Says the guy still wearing my purity ring.” I roll my eyes, before shooting him a hard glare. “And you thinkI’mobsessed? Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t need to.” He shrugs. “You flatter me plenty with all your pretty little orgasms.”

“That was a one-time thing and you know it.”

“Really?” He leans in close, smelling faintly of bleach from spending all day at the shop. A hint of whiskey coating his tongue and making my head spin. “What about the bar?”

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