Fueled(book two)(5)

And because it means you need. I’ve only ever needed myself—needing others only results in pain. In abandonment. In unspeakable horrors. And yet, I need Rylee right now. Every cell in my body wants to walk over, pull her against me, and cling to her right now. Use the warmth of her soft skin and the sound of her quiet sighs to alleviate the pressure expanding in my chest. To lose myself in her so I can find myself again—even if just for a minute. And for that reason alone, she needs to leave. As much as I want to, I can’t…I just can’t do this to her. To me. To my carefully constructed life and way of coping.

Alone is better. Alone, I know what to expect. I can map out situations and mitigate problems ahead of time. Fuck! How am I going to do this? How am I going to push away the one woman I’ve ever really thought of letting in?

Better to lose her now then when she bolts after finding out the truth.

I take a fortifying breath in preparation and meet her eyes. So many emotions swarm in her violet irises, and yet it’s the pity that sets me off, that allows me to grab on to it and use it as my piss-poor excuse for what I’m about to do. I’ve seen that look so many times over my life and nothing irritates me more. I’m not a charity case. I don’t need anyone’s damn pity.

Especially not hers.

She says my name in that telephone sex rasp of a voice she has, and I almost cave. “Don’t, Rylee. You need to leave.”

“Colton?” Her eyes search mine, asking so many questions and yet none pass through her lips.

“Go, Rylee. I don’t want you here.” She blanches at my statement. My eyes trace down her face, and I watch her bottom lip tremble. I bite the inside of my lip as my stomach churns and feels like I’m going to be sick again.

“I just want to help…”

I wince inwardly at the break in her voice, hating myself for the pain I know I’m about to cause her. She’s just so goddamn stubborn that I know she’s not going to leave this without a fight. She takes a step toward me, and I grind my teeth in reaction. If she touches me—if I feel her fingertips on my skin—I’ll cave.

“Get out!” I roar, her eyes snap up to meet mine, disbelief flashing in them, but I also sense her resolve to comfort me. “Get the f*ck out, Rylee! I don’t want you here! Don’t need you here!”

Her eyes widen as she clenches her jaw to prevent her lip from quivering. “You don’t mean that.”

The quiet temerity in her voice hits my ears and tears into parts deep inside of me that I never knew existed. It’s killing me to watch how I’m hurting her, how she’s willing to stand there and listen to what I’m hurling at her just so that she can make sure I’m okay. She’s proving now more than ever that she is in fact the saint, and I am most definitely the sinner.

Sweet f*cking Christ!

I’m gonna have to destroy her with bullshit lies just to get her out of here. To protect myself from apologizing and keeping her here—from opening myself up to everything I’ve always protected myself against.

“Like hell I do!” I yell at her, throwing the towel in my hand across the bathroom in frustration and knocking over some stupid bottle-like vases. Her chin lifts up in obstinance as she stares at me. Just go, Rylee! Make this easier on both of us! Instead, she just holds my gaze. I take a step toward her, trying to look as threatening as possible to get her to leave.

“I’ve f*cked you, Rylee, and now I’m done with you! I told you that’s all I was good for, sweetheart…”

The first tear slides down her cheek, and I force myself to breathe evenly, to pretend that I’m unaffected, but the wounded look in those amethyst eyes is killing me. She needs to go—now! I pick up her bag off of the counter and shove it at her chest. I cringe when her body jerks backwards from the force I’ve used. Putting my hands on her like this makes my stomach churn even more.