Page 101 of Love Sick

He hauls me up the stairs and tosses me into the shower. He turns the faucet on and drenches us in cold water. I try to fight him, but he grips my throat and slams my back against the wall.

“What the fuck was that?”

I smirk in response.

“I know you can talk. You’re just choosing not to. But what you did down there, that was cruel. You’re playing on her weaknesses, only to what? Shatter them until she’s completely destroyed?”

I hate that he knows me better than I thought.

“This isn’t you, Luna!” he screams, his grip on my throat tightening. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But this isn’t right. She has said she’ll let us go. Isn’t that enough for you?”

I simply shiver under the cold water, refusing to speak.

“Fuck!” he roars, slamming his palm against the tiles inches from my head. “We have a chance at freedom, at living a normal life together! Why are you doing this? Talk to me, goddammit!”

Fine, he wants me to talk. I hope he chokes on my words.

“I hate you,” I spit with hatred. “You’re a fucking traitor.”

He loosens his hold on my neck, which gives me the window to lift my knee. Sadly, he reads my intention and turns at the last minute so I connect with his thigh.

His fury is amped to a billion volts, and he does something which angers but turns me on in the same breath—he spins me, slams my face into the wall, and yanks up my T-shirt. I hear his zipper almost being torn off with urgency and before I can tell him to fuck off, he thrusts into me, robbing me of words and air.

He doesn’t allow me to adjust to his length and begins fucking me hard.

He fucks me so hard my body slides up and down the wall violently, but I want it.

I need it.

I want him out of control because this emotion can’t be faked. I may hate him for not agreeing with me, but I love him so much more, for I know when this is over and done with, I just may lose my mind.

He is trying to save me the pain, just how he always has.

All I want is revenge, but the demons which come with that will destroy me because I’m not a monster. And neither is Alanna at the root of it.

How can I condemn someone who is trying to do better, because wouldn’t that mean I was a monster too?

I allow that thought to drift down the drain and focus on my man fucking me hard and fast.

I arch my back so he sinks in deep because I need to feel him. I need him to make me feel alive because maybe I’m dead inside. After everything that’s happened, maybe I’ve reached the point of no return.

“I will fight for you,” Dutch says, and I know he means my soul, my sanity.

There’s no coming back from taking a person’s life. I took Noah’s and say I didn’t feel a thing, but late at night, straddling sleep, I see his tortured face, I hear his pained screams. He’s dead because of me.

And now I want to instill the same fate on Alanna.

What has happened to me?

Dutch grips my hips and rears down, biting the side of my throat. I scream and climax around his pulsating dick. This is dirty and primeval, and this is love.

No matter what happens, I know that I will love Dutch until the last beat of my broken heart. But I will kill him if he stands in my way.

It seems the medical board went all out with this grand affair because only the elite fill this amphitheater downtown, and with security tight, I wonder just who exactly is on the guest list.

I’m in the dressing room, looking at my reflection in the mirror, wondering how the fuck I ended up here.

I’m dressed in a suit and bow tie. My shoes are polished. My hair is tied back, but the stubborn strands fall around my face.