AllFreeNovel
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I hatemyself for doing it, but the next day, I’m checking my phone again, scrolling through my messages hoping for some sign of him. But it’s always the same—nothing. A void.
God, I’m pathetic.
The problem isn’t just that he left. It’s that the moody asshole turned me into a fuckingaddictbefore he did. I’ve always had a fairly high sex drive, just nobody to explore that drivewith.
Then Mal barged into the picture, knocked down my walls, ripped me out of my comfort zone, and blew my fucking mind.
…And thenleft.
And now I’m floundering, anxiously trying to score a fix that scratches that Mal itch, like a fucking junkie.
Believe me, I’ve hadall sortsof alone time, just me and my fingers and a vibrator, since he left.
It’s not the slightest bit the same. AndI hate it.
With a frustrated sigh, I open my social media. It’s a distraction at best, but maybe that’s what I need right now. Anything to stop thinking about him. I scroll through Hana’s latest posts first, pictures of gorgeously presented food at fancy restaurants and scenic views.
She lives a life that seems so uncomplicated, sonormal…if regimented and precise. I wonder what it’s like to wake up in the morning without the weight of secrets crushing you, without the constant fear of who’s watching or waiting in the shadows. To know exactly what your day will bring.
Takeshi’s feed is the usual chaotic mess of motorcycles, fast cars, and rowdy nights out. A world of adrenaline, mayhem and havoc. I scroll through his recent posts, barely paying attention. Then a photo from a few days ago, taken at some club, catches my eye. In the background, sitting in a dimly lit corner, is Mal.
My heart stutters to a stop.
There’s a girl draped across his lap, her arm wrapped possessively around his neck.
What the fucking FUCK.
The jealousy hits me so hard I almost drop my phone. I zoom in on the picture, my bloodboilingas I stare at the image.
I mean, it’s not like he’s my boyfriend…I guess. But is he fuckingserious?! After everything we did, everything we shared, he’s just moved on and is out there sharing the darkness I found in him with random girls?
Fury twists in my gut, hot and ugly. I can’t believe I let him get to me like this. Can’t believe I gave him somethingso personalonly for him to throw it back in my face.
Fuck him.
Fuck all of it.
I toss my phone aside, hating myself for caring so much. For letting him get under my skin.
As if triggered by the impact of hitting the bed behind me, my phone rings. I turn to scowl at it before seeing Damian’s number on the screen.
“We’re going out.”
He grunts the words even before I can make a crack about bedpans. Damian’s out of the hospital now. Heshouldbe here at Kir’s place so I can keep an eye on him, but he’s insisted on staying at his place to heal up.
Emphasis on “heal up”. Not “go out”.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“We’re going out, Frey,” Damian grumbles. “I’m losing my fucking mind being cooped up in here.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, the two-story glass penthouse overlooking Central Park with the personal chef, maid, and twenty-four-hour nursing care sounds like a real fucking drag, D.”
He snorts. “You know me. I needpeople. To go out. Listen to some music, or dance or some shit. See where the night takes me.”
I sigh. “Why does that sound like code for you wanting to go out and get laid?”
Damian chuckles. “You manage to make friends with a single girl yet that you could invite out?”
