Page 53 of Depraved
From where I’m standing, I hurl the thin-stemmed wineglass into the next room, only half aiming for the sink. Glass shatters everywhere as it hits the countertop, and I nod, enjoying the destruction as Barbie shrieks from the floor.
“All right, I’m going to bed.”
I reach back behind myself and grab the wine bottle that’s still a quarter full. Bringing it to my lips, I chug some back before walking from the living room. My eyes stay forward as I pass Dante and his new bitch.
His hand wraps around my arm, stopping me in place, but I jerk away, spitting fire. “Have fun with your girl.”
He turns his body toward me, his deep gravel saying more than his words can.
“She’snot my girl.”
“And now neither am I.”
WHAT THE FUCK WASI doing?
That’s the only question that’s played on loop since I came home hellbent on making her regret what she said.
It was the look in her eyes that made me want to erase what I did. But it was her disappointment that stripped me bare.
I became another man who’s hurt her, and that’s the one thing I never wanted to be.
“Fuck,” I growl, throwing the sheet back from where I lie.
Alone.
I rub my hand over my face, taking a deep breath and rolling my neck to ease the tension I feel. There’s no going back from this. She’ll never forgive that.
Won’t matter that I didn’t touch that girl.
I knew the fucking move was shit, but I was gonna shove those words down her damn throat. I was so focused on that she denied us. That she didn’t care about what’s sparking between us.
After all I did that day, the lengths I went for her and thewhy’sthat I did it—to know she’s lying to me was too much.
I needed her to come clean, to want to have my fucking back. Fuck that. I needed her to want me. As much as I want her.
But that bridge was burned, blown up, and fucking decimated last night.
I groan as I roll out of bed and stand. Running my hand over my stomach, I head to the bathroom to shower and get ready for the guys this morning.
“Four days,” I whisper to myself, thinking about how long it took me to fuck it all up.
I walk inside the bathroom, turn on the shower, and head over to relieve myself before undressing and sliding inside the hot shower to let the water drown me.
Standing still, I take stock, letting the hot water rain over my bowed head. Warm droplets fall over my cheeks and face as I keep my palms against the stone wall. My eyes close as I give in to the moment.
There has to be a move I can make. Something. This can’t be how we end before we ever really got started.
I smack the wall, hating that I can’t get her fucking face out of my head. The look she gave me…like I’d ruined her.
Why do I care? What does it matter?
I don’t love this girl. I just fucked her.
Lies.
She doesn’t even matter. She means nothing to me.
Lies.
