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Jackson’s sweatshirt swallows my frame, and when I wrap my arms around myself I can smell him all over me.
The shower calls my name but for some reason I’m in no hurry to wash away my sins. Instead I stare at them for a little while longer.
“What the hell happened to you?” Mallory exclaims when she takes in my appearance.
Full coverage foundation helps, but the very visible mark on my face from the glass is basically impossible to hide. Especially from the laser focused gaze of my best friend.
She takes my cheeks in her palms and pulls my face closer so she can examine the wound.
“It was that fucking carnie, wasn’t it?” Her breath is hot against my skin and I pull away.
“No, Mal. It wasn’t.”
I should have put a tiny bit of effort into coming up with some sort of cover story, but unfortunately my brain has been the consistency of scrambled eggs since I left the carnival.
“I have known you for too long, B. I can tell when you’re lying. You’re fucking terrible at it, anyway.”
I take a sip from the latte in my hands and shrug my shoulders. “He didn’t do it.”
It isn’t necessarily a lie…
It was the broken mirror. Sure, he may have slammed me into it—but it wasn’t like he intentionally sliced my cheek open.
Not like you did to him.
I can still feel the pain in my hand from clenching the shard. Still see the way the sharp edge pressed against his throat, the red liquid seeping down.
“Jesus Christ, B, what the hell is going on with you?” She asks, pulling me away from my memories. “You seem a million miles away. What happened last night?”
There is no good way to answer that question.
Oh, yeah, Mallory. I allowed myself to be completely and utterly stripped naked by a stranger in a carnival, both literally and figuratively. He screwed my brains out all over that fucking place. He degraded me, tied me up, locked me in a cage, and dragged me across the floor like a human-sized doll. And you know what? I fucking loved it.
My better sense tells me that admission probably wouldn’t go over well. Instead, I settle on a half-truth.
“We talked, got to know each other. I was very… vulnerable with him. Jackson is good at breaking down walls, I guess.”
Breaking them. Demolishing them like a wrecking ball. To-may-toe, to-mah-toe.
“So what, you just spilled your guts to him over some popcorn and then went home? You’re so full of shit.” Mallory’s eyes are like molten lava, the heat coming from her gaze staggering. “And let me guess, you tripped on something walking to your car and that’s how you fucked up your face. God, I can’t believe this.”
I set the latte down on the small bistro table beside us and let out a breath.
“Mal, I love you, but back off. Okay? I don’t have the energy for this inquisition. My mind is already spinning out of control enough as it is and the last thing I need is you grilling me.”
Her eyes narrow and I know she has no intention of letting me off.
“Look, I’m going to head home. I’ve got a ton to get done and my head is pounding.” I take a step toward her and wrap my arms around her stiff body. “I’ll call you later, kay?”
I don’t wait for her rebuttal, instead turning on my heel and getting the hell out of there.
I can’t explain what happened last night when I don’t even understand it myself.
The deal was one night. One night only.
But Jackson had stolen something from me. In the process of breaking me apart he’d taken a piece and held on to it. I can almost feel him turning it over in his calloused hands.
For once in my life, one night may not be enough.
