Page 18 of A Little Jaded

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Page 18 of A Little Jaded

How did I get here? How didweget here? This can’t be happening. Who is this man? How could he do this to me? How could he do this to anyone, but especially me? He’s supposed to love me and cherish me and treat me like a princess. My heart cracks even more as I stare at the crimson staining my fingertips. Like a carousel, memories of us together flash through my mind. The first time we met. When he slipped me his number. Our first kiss. The first time he said he loved me. When he bought me flowers on my birthday. When he asked me to move in with him. When we made love. They all swirl together, every moment, every memory, until each and every one is painted with a sour stroke of regret, leaving a bitter tang in my mouth.

Then again, maybe it’s the blood.

“Don’t. Fucking. Ignore me,” he yells.

My bottom lip quivers, and I blink the burn behind my eyes away. “No, I didn’t let him touch me.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“And I’m supposed to believeyou?” I spit, dropping my hand to my lap and turning to face him fully again. “You promised you wouldn’t hit me again!”

The crunching of gravel beneath our tires hits my ears, and I nearly bash my head against the glass as he yanks the steering wheel to one side, swerving onto the side of the road.

“Get out,” he growls.

I look out the pitch-black window, then back to Drake. “Are you serious?”

“You don’t want me to hit you again, right?” he counters. “Get out of the car. You can fucking walk home.”

“Drake—”

“You always said if we’re fighting, and I can’t control my anger, I should walk away.”

Now, he listens?

I’d laugh if I didn’t feel like I was talking to a fucking toddler.

“It’s the middle of the night.” I wave my hand toward the dark passenger window as if to showcase my point while choking back tears. “And I have no idea where I am.”

“Maybe you’ll think twice before you wind up in a room with a locked door and a guy who isn’t me.”

“Who are you?” I cry.

Face twisting with rage, he warns, “I’m your worst motherfucking nightmare if you don’t get out of this fucking car right now.”

“Why’d you take me there in the first place?” I demand. “If you were so hellbent on keeping me away from him?—”

“Get out of the fucking car!” he screams.

Spittle hits my cheeks, and I jerk back. The look in hiseyes terrifies me. Like he’s gone. The man I fell in love with. No. This man is nothing but a stranger. An animal, even. Like he could kill me in this moment, and honestly? A small part of me wouldn’t even be surprised if he tried. He’s too far gone. This is too far gone. Our relationship. Our trust in each other. It’s obliterated, and there’s no going back. There’s no pretending this didn’t happen. No writing it off as a one-time thing. No justifying it.

Do. Not. Justify. This.

Blindly, I reach for the door handle, my hands trembling, and climb out of the passenger side on shaky legs. Without even waiting for me to close the door behind me, he peels onto the road, the tires squealing as they search for traction on the black pavement.

Is this man serious?

A numb tingle spreads across my body, and I shake my head, convinced I’m hallucinating or in shock or…hell, maybe I have a concussion at this point because my brain is struggling to process what the hell just happened and how I wound up on the side of the road at one o’clock in the morning at least twenty minutes from home. It’s cold. It’s quiet. It’s foreign. It’s…scary. I take in my surroundings, unsure what to do or who to call. There’s nothing but inky blackness all around me. No street lights. No signs. No buildings. Nothing but Drake’s fading brake lights.

As they’re swallowed by darkness, I wrap my coat tighter around me and try to hold my tears at bay.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

CHAPTER EIGHT

EVERETT

We cleared the house out after the fight. Not that we had to. Everyone would’ve stayed all night if we’d let them. Honestly, the fight only amplified the original energy in the house. Like a heavy dose of adrenaline was injected into everyone’s veins—everyone’s but mine—and they were ready for the next round. There was a brawl in the family room, too. Drake’s friends got into it with Reeves and a few of my other teammates.




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