Take (Need #2)(13)

We pull into the driveway at my house. I move to unclip my seatbelt.

“Austin and Jennifer are f*cking.”

Brayden’s comment stops me. I keep my eyes lowered. “You’ve f*cked her, too.” And I saw it once. On a night when I’d needed him more than anything.

“I haven’t touched her in years. He f*cked her recently, from what I can tell.”

Tears flood my eyes again. Goddammit, I don’t even know why I’m this upset. I feel something for Austin, but it’s definitely not love. Not even close.

I try to exit the car.

Brayden grabs my wrist. When I turn to make him release me, I’m hit with the pained, tender expression on his face.

“Do you want me to f*ck him up?” he asks me in a serious, fierce whisper.

Is he . . . is he offering to beat Austin up for . . . I don’t get a chance to finish the thought.

He drops my wrist, slamming his back into his seat. Restless, he throws his head back. Exhales. “God. Fucking *. I’ll rip him apart for f*cking hurting you like this!”

Oh. My. God.

He punches the steering wheel.

I grab his hand before he can deliver another hit. “Brayden. Stop!”

There’s a madness in those inflamed eyes. A frightening madness that makes them glitter like green gems. “I know I’ve hurt you, too. That I have no right. But I’m going to f*cking kill him for hurting you like this.” A pause. Several harsh breaths. The madness expands, a palpable mix of hurt and need that drags me in. Then . . . “I’m going to kill him for taking a piece of your heart away from me and then breaking it.”

Pain. God, so much pain. Why am I not desensitized to it yet? I can’t harden that piece of my soul that’s forever exposed to Brayden, and the emotions he’s struggling with poke at it. Pierce it. Make it bleed all over again.

I start trembling, tears leaking down my cheeks, too torn apart to control it.

Brayden exhales like I’ve sliced him open, too, his jaw clenched against the torment.

It’s the very last thing I should do, but I let myself squeeze his hand. His big, warm, tanned hand, with its broad, strong palm and long fingers. “I once would’ve given anything for this hand to belong just to me,” I whisper. For his whole body, but I don’t say it. I don’t need to.

He tightens his hand around mine, his hold anxious. “It does. Every part of me.”

I shake my head because we both know I’ll never let that happen again. Right now, I don’t hate him, but in the next few moments I will once more, and nothing he does or says will change that.

I loved him too hard, too young, and he warped that for me. Ruined my ability to properly love. I have no clue what a healthy attraction even looks like and that’s all thanks to him.

There’s no other option for me. I’ll have to learn, start from scratch. Scrape away years of negative association and somehow convince my mind to trust again.

How could I ever do that with the same man who broke me in the first place?

A man I can’t even publicly have.

But right now, he’s hurting because I’m hurting. Willing to avenge a wrong he perceives had been done to me—he, the very man who has hurt me so bad—and I can only blame my weakened, messed-up mind for what I do next.

Wiping the tears off my cheeks, I look into his narrowed, stormy eyes, and tell him the truth. A truth I shouldn’t tell him, but one I need him to know nonetheless.

“I’m not crying because Austin hurt me. Not like that. I could never feel for him that way.” I rush out of the car as soon as the words are out of my mouth, and I don’t stop until I’m inside the house, locked in my room.

Holy. God.

What did I just do?

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the stunned look on Brayden’s face.

Fuck. Why did I tell him that?

Now he knows. Now he knows how I feel for Austin.

And it’s probably only a matter of time before he comes to the conclusion that I still feel something for him.

I fall back on my door and slide down to the floor, staring off into space, wondering what the hell I’m going to do now.





April 25th, 2015





Saturday is not going how I wanted it to. I’m alone and bored.

Ashley and Marilyn are at a family reunion, while Jenna is grounded at home for missing curfew. Mom and Steve went to some event downtown and are probably going to be gone all day.

I could go shopping, or to the gym, or half a dozen other things, but instead I’m sitting in front of the TV with Netflix up, trying to decide on what series I’m going to dive into.

And keeping my mind off everything that happened last weekend.

School helped distract me all week, but now I’m at home with silence, and I feel it. The itching in my chest, the tightness, the growing . . . despair? No, that’s not the right feeling.

It’s all jumbled, disorienting. I don’t know how or what I feel. It’s all a big freaking mess.

After deciding on breaking down and watching Vampire Diaries, I hop up to grab something to munch on from the kitchen. Staring into the pantry leaves me with multiple options: chips, crackers, popcorn, trail mix, and cereal.

Fruit Loops sounds like the perfect moody munchy, and I grab the box and plop back down on the couch.