Page 5 of Loving Wild
I don’t want to go home to Lauren until I have my head on straight and feel calmer, and if I can’t get my hands on her motherfucker of an ex, the only thing that’s going to calm me down is a drink.
It’s already almost eleven, so I pull my car out onto the esplanade and head to the bar at the racecourse.
It stays open till around six in the morning. It means I can have a couple of drinks before going home and apologising to Lauren. It also means I’m a fucking idiot.
As I climb out of my car, I know I shouldn’t be here.
As I walk across the car park, Iknowthis is wrong.
As I enter the bar, I’m aware that this is self-sabotage at its finest, but it doesn’t stop me.
* * *
Alyssa’spale grey eyes hit mine the moment I walk through the door.
Without a word, she pours my favourite bourbon over four cubes of ice. I knock it back as soon as I reach the bar. She pours another, and I do the same. This one has my stomach bubbling with heat but does nothing to ease the rage inside me.
I nod at my glass, indicating I want it refilled.
“Finally come to your senses and realised we’re not meant for the monogamous life?” My eyes meet hers, but I don’t speak. My jaw is tensed so tight, I don’t think I’m capable of releasing it just yet. Instead, I sit my arse on the stool next to me and silently drown myself in bourbon.
Chapter 3
Lauren.
Restingmy forehead on my knees, I cry tears of hurt, anger, and disappointment. I can’t believe he just got up and left. He promised, said he wouldn’t leave, that he’d never hurt me like Jay did, but leaving after what I just told him hurts just as much as one of Jay’s physical blows. I already feel ashamed, and him walking out like that has me feeling worse, and I’m angry about that. Thoroughly pissed off in fact. Gabe’s actions have made me feel more like a victim than Jay’s ever have, and as much as I feel like his mother for thinking it, I’m disappointed in his behaviour.
Taking in a deep breath, I close my eyes, hold my nose, and submerge myself under the water. I lay back and attempt to calm myself. It doesn’t work, not even a little bit. When my chest burns, I sit up.
The tape they used around my fingers has gone soggy, they’re not broken, so I rip it off. Ignoring the pain, I roll it into a ball and set it down on the side of the bath.
I hate baths. They give me too much time to think, and right now, my brain is racing with a million thoughts. Pulling out the plug, I stand on shaky legs, climb out, and step straight into the shower.
I turn everything up high—the temperature, the force of the overhead shower, and the body jets.
My skin tingles before it begins to sting, and for just a little while, it distracts me from the ache in my heart.
I wash and condition my hair, then wash every inch of my skin. I still feel like shit, I’m still angry, still feeling ashamed. My last lot of bruises have barely healed, and here we are once again, bruised and fucking beaten.
My chest heaves with a sob, but I don’t let it out. I refuse to let Jay win. He had me rattled earlier, coming out of nowhere in a place I considered safe, then doing something so utterly degrading, but I’m determined this will be the last time. I can’t stop him from beating me physically, but I refuse to be beaten mentally by either of them.
Fuck Jay! Fuck Gabe! Fuckbothof them for making me feel like absolute shit.
I refuse to curl up and die inside anymore.
Earlier, with the police and the paramedics, then the nurses and doctors, I was too embarrassed to tell them what happened. Now the painkillers they gave me have worn off along with the shock, I’m able to think with a little more clarity. Why’s itmethat feels embarrassed?Idid nothing wrong. Jay’s the one who should be feeling ashamed, and right now, so should Gabe.
When I turn off the water and move to stand in front of the mirror, my skin tingles from the heat and force of the shower, and my body vibrates with anger.
I let out a deep sigh as I inspect my reflection. I have a cut inside my cheek, where my teeth must have sliced into it with the force of one of Jay’s blows. I have a small split in my bottom lip and another on my cheekbone with a bruise starting to appear around it. I have lumps on the side and back of my head, and no doubt I’ll find more bruises, lumps, and bumps tomorrow, but physically, I don’t look as bad as the last time he hit me, mentally, it could go either way. Right now, I’m holding on to my anger and letting that fuel my determination to keep moving forward.
If Gabe pulls away, I don’t know how long I can keep doing that, and Ihate, hate with a passion, that I’ve come to need him so much already.
“Stupid, Lauren,” I tell my reflection. “Stupid, stupid, Lauren.”
My lips tremble, and I fight not to cry. My throat aches with emotion as I swipe angrily at the lone tear on my cheek.
Drawing in a deep breath, I reach for my body lotion, I moisturise, spritz myself in perfume, wrap my hair and body in a towel, go out to the bedroom, and spend a few minutes sitting on the bed staring at the floor while trying to get my shit together.
