Page 80 of Damaged Prince
She thinks I hate her. That I’ve changed my mind, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’m mad for this girl. Head over fucking heels. And that's why this is killing me.
All the lies, the secrets, the sneaking around. It’s slowly killing me. I can feel it in my bones.
Every day I wake up and wish I didn't. Every fucking day I’m forced to live a lie.
I’m tired.
The only thing that's keeping me going is a drink in my hand and anything else I can get to numb the pain.
I know my family is worried. They love me. They want what's best for me.
They wouldn’t understand.
I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth it.
Who am I anymore? With every passing day, I feel myself slipping from reality.
My grades are shit, and my hopes of playing in the NHL are long gone. Something that is fucking eating away at me. It’s not that I wanted to go pro like Logan, but it’s the fact that I was good enough to, and it was my choice not to.
Now, I don’t even have that. No one would look at me with a ten-foot pole. At this point, I think it would just be better to quit the team; at least they would have a better chance at winning without me. I’m just dragging them down. Letting them down.
That's all I seem to be good at these days.
“Hit the showers. Take a fucking breather and get your head in the game, Cross. Understood?”
“Yes, Coach,” I grunt, grabbing my gear and skating off the ice. Practice was basically over anyways. Maybe I can take these few hours to get control of my emotions.
Heading into the locker room, I strip down and hit the showers. The hot water soothes my aching muscles as I stand there, eyes closed and contemplating my life.
How did everything go from being amazing to crashing and burning around me?
I had everything under control. Everything was going how it should, until it wasn’t.
Delaney Jones is the light to my darkness, that bit of joy that makes everything worth it. She scares off the demons, just for a little bit. But it’s enough to let me breathe. To center me.
I fucking crave her, need her like my next breath.
I’ve been a fucking mess without her. And knowing she thinks I don’t want her fucking guts me. Because I do. More than anything else in this world.
But life is fucking cruel, and just when I think I could have the smallest bit of happiness in my life of utter chaos, the universe likes to rip it away.
Sometimes, I wish Delaney never came into our lives. It would have made everything easier. I could have kept going on with my life, faking it.
Once I’m done showering, I wrap my towel around me and head out to my locker. The rest of the team has made their way into the locker room, the once quiet room now bursting with the loud chatter of guys.
“Hey, Owen. Is it true?” Tucker, one of my teammates, asks.
“Is what true?” I ask, opening my locker to grab my clean shirt.
“That your brothers are fucking your sister,” he chuckles, and the rest of the room breaks out into chortles.
My fist clenches around the fabric of my clean, pressed, white dress shirt, crinkling it as anger rises inside me. “She’s not our fucking sister,” I growl through gritted teeth.
“Sorry. Stepsister,” he chuckles mockingly. “Still, dude. Your parents are married. That’s weird.”
“I don’t know, man,” Brandon, another teammate, pipes up. “I think it’s hot. I watch stepsibling porn. Makes me wish I had a stepsister.”
