My eyes track over the rest of his body, seeing the small scars and marks with a new perspective. A lot of them are hard to see, especially the ones on his arms. But his legs… they’re fucking everywhere. From just above his knees to his hips.
My jaw falls slack at the multitude of scars. I’m reaching out, pressing my thumb to a fresh one, not even realizing until Abel’s pained hiss scrapes through my ear.
“You love hurting, don’t you?” I breathe the words, somehow, even with the oxygen stuck in my lungs.
“I like controlling what I feel,” he states apathetically, but his words wobble at the end, giving away more than I’m sure he intended.
The words hit me like I just jumped off a skyscraper, and the concrete below comes faster than anticipated, the force of gravity working against me as I crave too freefall before my last breath.
I like controlling what I feel.
As I stare at him, his words, in his higher-pitched, melodic voice, ring loud inside my head. They bounce around like a pin-ball machine, each clash against my skull hitting some hidden memory I thought I’d snuffed out.
My temples throb, eyes stinging. My nose burns, lungs aching.
The lighter clatters to the floor, the sound bouncing off the walls. Abel glances down at the pink plastic, eyebrow arced when he meets my gaze, questions emitted from them.
I shove my way out of the bathroom without a backward glance. It’s not until my door is shut and locked behind me that I feel I can finally breathe again.
And when I do, I wish I didn’t. ‘Cause it hurts.
Pretending is good. Easy, even. Until it’s not.
There’s this…thinginside of me that craves what Abel and I have. This warped, disturbing twist on connection. Like, as long as it’s depraved, it’s okay to want. Anything more…I can’t control, in spite of it all.
But can I accept it?
“It’s okay, Peris. Shh, don’t cry.”
I grab the first thing I see and fling it against the wall, a sound I didn’t know I could make ripping from my throat, leaving me choking and gasping. The loud crash jars me. My eyes snap open to find the metal trophy in two pieces below a sharp dent in the wall.
I rip my hand through my hair, yanking until all I feel is the sting in my scalp and not the one in my chest, or my throat, or my fucking gut.
I am not gonna fucking cry—I haven’t since the night.
If I could choke it down every time after, I’m sure as fuck not going to let Abel Silver rip it out of me.
Chapter Five
Peris
“Is Mom coming?” I ask, looking out at the trees surrounding us. We’re at some conservation park a couple of hours away. I didn’t want to come, but I never have a choice.
He shakes his head, dark hair flopping over his forehead as he hammers a stake into the hard, dusty dirt. “It’s just us, buddy. Our little vacation.”
I swallow against the rush of bile. My stomach contorts, and I stumble over into a tree, fingers clutching against the thick, sharp bark like it could actually keep me pinned exactly where I am.
I’d happily stay here until the week is through. I’d even go without food. Probably even water. I think I could make it.
“Get over here and help me, Peris. It’s going to be dark soon.” I glance up at the sky. The clouds overhead are thick and fluffy, the sun shining brightly through the gaps. It would feel warm against my skin if I could feel anything at all.
Lately, all I feel is numb. Like every move I make is two seconds delayed and all washed in a dense, gray fog.
I like the fog. It makes it…bearable.
“Sorry,” I mumble because I know that’s what he wants to hear. I want to ask him so many questions. Why…How…
But answers won’t get me anywhere. I don’t even think they’d make it hurt any less.
