Even in the hall when the release of her journal had gone down, people turning against one another, claws coming out, havoc-wreaking, tears pouring, I just couldn’t seem to care anymore. Mia had walked past me, my little explosion of hope, to see all mine had vanished. Perhaps on the outside to everyone else, it had, but my heart still jolted, reminding me it was broken by what was happening to her.
Because what happened to her happened to me.
The worst part of caring too much, of feeling too much, of having too much to give, was that eventually you drain from being too much for too long. My fucks to give had a number, and between the medication and my tank depleted, I’d finally landed in the center of the storm out of gas. The place I remember so vividly, and it welcomed me with open arms.
But as I stood there, Mia rang in my ear like a tiny bell, unwilling to let me go completely.
Showering that night was a walk in the park. No one talked to me anymore besides Maddie and Bria—Maddie still wanting to jump my bones, and my bone not wanting to jump inside her. Whenever I found myself alone with her, she’d try, but it never led anywhere. The only girl my body seemed to want was Mia.
My john wouldn’t even take to my own hand.
I stood under the warm shower with a palm against the tile.
The room hummed around me, every stall occupied.
My body was tense, needing to rid myself of the arousal that had been built up since last week. My aching knob stood out in front of me, heavy and angry, and every ounce of blood rushing to its surface. Grabbing it with one palm, it twitched in my hand, confused by the reminder of being in the soft tightness of Mia. I yanked on it, dragging my teeth against my bottom lip to fight off the hiss wanting to leave. My eyes screwed shut, and I selfishly remembered the way Mia felt, her warmth clenching around me, pounding, pulsing. A small groan left me as I fucked my hand, pretending to be inside her.
But it was no use.
“Dammit, Mia,” I breathed, releasing my dick and slamming both my palms against the tile.
Despite the void, every part of me still belonged to her. My head knew it. My heart knew it. My soul knew it. Even my fucking cock knew it. How long would it take for every part to come to a mutual understanding there is no such thing as forever?
“Times up, Masters,” Scott rang out, and my body went stiff.
After turning the water off, I swiftly ran the towel over my skin, slid on my boxers, and slipped out of the stall. A few people lingered as Scott impatiently stood beside the door. I’d never needed to compare myself to others, but I couldn’t wrap my brain around this one.
Mia liked him, possibly even loved him, and I could learn to be okay with that. If he’d be the one to prevent her from flipping her bloody switch again, I’d pat the bloke on the back before my time ran out at Dolor.
But there were many layers to the bloke standing beside the wall with eyes locked on mine. There was no doubt in my mind, Scott had cruel intentions of being here. Secrets hid behind his façade.
I flipped on the faucet to brush my teeth when I found my reflection in the mirror.
Not me.
Mia.
She stepped out of her stall and stood there with a towel around her tiny figure. Our eyes linked and my hands hit the counter to hold myself up from the power she still had over me. Her coffee-colored eyes held strong, undisturbed by the distance between us. Her perfect lips parted, wanting to say something. Just spit it out, love. If I had to wrap my fingers around her jaw and exhume them myself …
“Let’s go,” Scott barked.
Mia snapped her mouth shut and dropped her towel. She stood stripped and bared. My first instinct was to snatch her up in my arms and remove her from hungry eyes. But then my gaze landed on her fading injuries. Her flawless skin had taken a beating, and my soul went cold. Yellowed patches marked her thighs and hips, and my grip tightened around the edge of the sink as my eyes continued their journey back to her face. “Who did this to you?” I asked, each word pained by the view before me.
“You did.”
No. I would never hurt you.
My head shook the nonsense away, and my eyes jerked in Scott’s direction as he looked at Mia who stood between us. The piece of rubbish had the nerve to look at her while I was in the same fucking room.
I swooped up her towel, wrapped it around her, and pulled her into me. She didn’t resist. Scott took a step toward me, and I held up a palm in his direction to stop him.
Mia shook in my grasp, and I couldn’t tell if it was because she was cold or scared of me. I lowered my head into the crook of her neck. “Tell me I didn’t do this,” I whispered out of earshot. My entire being hung on her answer.
“It wasn’t you,” she cried softly into my chest. “You weren’t yourself.”
Her words devoured me, shredded me to nothing. Absolute nothing. Chest pains so intense blurred my vision, and I held on to her tighter, digging my head into her neck. She was the only thing that mattered. She had always been the only thing that mattered.
A fierce sting fought its way through, and I pinched the bridge of my nose to control it. “I’m done saying I’m sorry. I’m going to make this right,” I quickly promised before I turned into a wreck in the bathroom. The words couldn’t come out fast enough in the little time we had. “I’ll show you. Please, wait for me. Just stay with me, Mia.”
“Even when you’re gone?”
I placed my hands over her face and pulled her away so I could see her as my eyes watered. Fuck, I was about to break. She still had belief—belief in the two of us. Somehow, she understood me. My lips met her forehead, and I breathed in the scent of her and buried it into my memory. “Especially when I’m gone.”
Releasing her, I pushed my legs through my sweats, grabbed my things, and walked away from her. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Emotions shredded me like a wild beast, ripping me apart. And it fucking hurt. I stopped in front of Scott and clenched my fist from putting it through his skull. “Don’t ever fucking look at her again,” my sick pride warned him.
Chapter Thirteen
“My first mistake was bringing
flowers to a gun show.”
—Oliver Masters
mia.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S already the beginning of October,” Dr. Conway rejoiced with a smile on her face. “Halloween is right around the corner, my favorite holiday. Me and Mark sit at the end of our driveway and hand out candy every year. Seeing the little kids … ” she continued to gush as my thoughts transported back to the bathroom where something had changed within Ollie.
Ollie was fighting. I’d heard it in his voice. I’d seen it in his eyes. I’d felt it radiating from him, and the way he held onto me. One look at me, and he’d broken free from his somberness, ready to whisk me away and pull me from this nightmare. My heart jumped at the thought of him coming back to me. Our love was something to fight for, and Ollie still fought with everything he had.
Words had been exchanged between Ollie and Ethan before Ollie dipped out of the bathroom days before. Words that had been conveniently soaked up by the distance. But whatever Ollie had said caused Ethan’s demeanor to change when he appeared in my dorm room later that night.
Ethan had stripped down to his boxers and climbed in next to me. I hadn’t even had a night terror, but still, he’d fused to me without so much as an explanation.