Too fucking much.
The bed shifted as Disco moved from me, and I listened, sobbing softly, as he adjusted his clothes. As much as I didn’t deserve what he had done, a part of me felt like I did. I knew better than to enter his bed without telling him what had happened. I had played with fire, deciding to sate my own wants before considering the feelings of another. I’d accepted my hand even as it was dealt, unaware it was a losing one.
After I heard him buckle his belt, I felt him standing at the end of the bed, watching me. I couldn’t scrounge up the courage to look at him. It was the strangest thing. The man I loved was one I now despised. I wanted to kiss him about as much as I wanted to rip him apart with my bare hands. He was nothing but a liar—someone who gained my trust only to destroy it.
Even as the thought came, it was followed by the softness that had blossomed inside of me over the last couple of months. That gentle, womanly portion of me wanted to have faith, to believe that it had all been a huge mistake. He was upset and had done something totally out of character.
Was it right to feel this way?
Was it okay to hate someone you cared for so deeply?
Guilt hit, hard and fast. It took my breath away, causing me to gasp.
For a moment, I thought Disco would come to me, but then the mark between us was closed, leaving me in a free-floating abyss of my own thoughts and feelings. It was then that I realized the guilt I felt was his, bolstered by my own feelings of remorse.
He regretted what he’d done.
He was horrified he’d lost control with me.
“I’m going to call a meeting with the family to discuss things and give you time to pull yourself together.” His voice was hoarse and laced with shame. “I’ll come back and we can talk.”
His footsteps retreated from the bed and paused for several seconds. Then I heard the door open and close with a snick. It was the snick that urged me to action. I scrambled from the bed, collecting my clothes with hands that were entirely worthless, failing several times in my attempts.
I had no concept of time as I dressed, but I knew it took much longer than usual, considering I couldn’t button my jeans, pull on my socks, or slide into my boots. Memories of Ray, ones I’d kept dead and buried, were very much alive, breathing and threatening to take over—worse than my most vivid nightmares. Due to Disco’s invasion, Ray was alive again. Several years’ worth of work at building up a wall completely demolished in minutes. With them came memories of Jennifer, of her pain, of her journey from fucked-up to psychotic, as well as my own fears, insecurities and weaknesses.
“Come here, Rhia,” Ray whispered in my head, taunting me. “I have something for you.”
“Get your shit together, right now,” I snapped, swiping at the tears that continued to flow down my cheeks. I only had a few more minutes, maybe less, until Disco came back. And I refused to be waiting for him like a sacrificial lamb, crawling on hands and knees to appease him, just so he wouldn’t do anything more to hurt me.
Just like I had with Ray.
The moment I slid the necklace on, peace overcame me, shrouding me in something other than grief. I called upon its radiating presence, using it to help me stand upright and exit the room as quietly as possible.
I heard voices as I came to the foot of the stairs, the meeting of the family coming to an end, and rushed to the door. Once I opened it and stepped outside, I took off at a dead run. I wasn’t sure where I was going, but one thing was for certain.
I wasn’t going to do the walk of shame. Not when I could outrun it.
Chapter Twenty