I know I need more, but what does that even look like?
And what the fuck am I supposed to do now?
I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ve somehow managed to develop…feelingsfor her, but what am I meant to do with that information? It doesn’t matter from which way I look at it, I just can’t see an outcome.
I’d talk to the guys, but they wouldn’t be much help.
Noah would tell me to follow my heart or some shit, but I can’t do that when I have no idea where it’s leading me.
Harley would probably just laugh and tell me to fucksomeone else to make myself feel better, but I don’t think that’ll help either.
And knowing Logan, he’d no doubt just tell me to kidnap her again, but she’s too wild to be tamed, and that’s not the way to get Lana to…what? Stay? With me?
I groan. I’m losing it.
Then it hits me: the one person on earth I have that I can talk to this about.
My sister.
I grab my phone from the side table and send a quick text to Gracie before throwing it down on the bed and closing my eyes.
My mind runs through images of what happened downstairs, of how expertly she played with my body like I was her toy and nothing more.
And I guess to her, that’s all it was.
That thought has a sickening feeling swirling around in my gut.
I’m pretty sure this is still all just a game to Lana, just something to pass the time.
But to me, it’s becoming so much more.
My door slams open and my sister barrels inside, frantically looking around before her eyes land on me.
“Oh God. What is it, Cole? Did someone die?”
Not yet, but it’s definitely a possibility.
“No one is dead.”
“Then what’s the emergency?” she all but shouts and I groan, running a hand through my still-damp hair.
“You. You did this to me. With your talk the other day about feelings and crap. How do I make it stop?” I plead with my eyes, hoping she holds all of the answers.
“Oh. My. God,” she whispers, clutching a hand to her chest dramatically. “You have feelings?”
I grunt in acknowledgement and close my eyes again, but she throws herself down on the bed beside me and punches me in the ribs.
“Ah, Gracie, what the fuck?” I say, wincing as the pain spreads to the cuts Lana made in my skin only an hour or so ago.
The cuts that are actually anA, so now I haveLAwritten on my body, and I have no doubt thatNAwill be next.
She’s branding me. That has to mean something, right?
“I don’t know what to do,” I say with a sigh.
“Okay,” she says with a reassuring smile. “Tell me everything.”
Everything? Yeah… that’s never going to happen.
