Page 51 of Broken Pieces
“Why have you been ignoring me?”
Zane freezes. His whole body goes still, like the truth is a gun pointed at his chest.
The cigarette hangs between his lips, forgotten, smoke curling up into the dark.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough around the edges. “You mess with my head.”
My breath falters. “What?”
This time he turns. The hood cuts shadows across his face, but his eyes pin me in place, burning hot and unflinching.
“You get under my skin, Sky. And I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.”
My chest caves, breath catching somewhere between disbelief and something I can’t name.
He drags a hand through his hair, fingers rough, frustration carved into every line of him. “I have been through a lot of fucked-up shit.”
“Yeah, and who hasn’t,” I shoot back.
His silence answers louder than words, stretching until it hurts.
Finally, he mutters, “You’ll be rid of me in a month.”
The words land like a punch.
“What if I don’t want to be rid of you?”
That cracks him. His head snaps toward me, his eyes wide, the fight clear in them.
“I have had girls. I’ve had chaos. I have set fire to everything I touch. But you…” His jaw locks, his eyes never leaving mine. “You make me want things I shouldn’t want. And that,” his voice drops to a whisper, “that terrifies the fuck out of me.”
He turns away, pulling smoke deep into his lungs, holding it there until his chest strains before letting it bleed out slow, as if the release could steady him.
Then, with a sharp flick of his fingers, he sends the cigarette arcing off the roof into the night.
“Say something,” he mutters.
The words are rough, scraping the space between us.
I swallow, my throat raw, pulse thrashing against my ribs.
“People don’t stay. Not for me. I learned that a long time ago.” My voice drops, softer, even though I hate that it does. “So if I want you to want me, that’s because I don’t know what the hell it feels like to be wanted.”
His breath punches out, sharp enough to sting.
“Sky…” The crack in his voice ruins me.
I drag in air, desperate and shaking.
“You have no fucking idea how much I want you to want me, Zane”
His jaw locks, muscles twitching as if he is holding himself together by force. “You don’t get it. I am no good for anyone. Least of all you.”
“Then tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.” My voice shakes at the edges, but the demand cuts through. “I want the truth, Zane.”
He drags his gaze away, throat working hard, the silence stretching before he glances back my way.
His eyes flick to my mouth, then away again, like he is fighting a losing battle.
