“You should leave, Jack,” her voice sounding broken as it pleaded with me.
I studied her for a moment, took in her sad eyes and the empty bottle of wine she was using to wash away her pain and shook my head.
“Don’t think that’s what you really want,” I said simply. “So why don’t you do us both a favor and tell me what you do want.”
“What do you want with me?” She questioned. “I know why I’m drawn to you but for the life of me I can’t figure out what a man like you is doing hanging around with a woman like me,” she said, pulling her hand away from mine. “Do you know what it’s like to not feel anything? To go through life feeling numb all the time?” She shook her head. “Forget it, that’s not even the issue.”
“Reina, then for the love of God, what the fuck is the issue?” I growled, my patience gone.
“I can deal with numb I know numb. What I don’t know is how to feel, it’s a foreign thing to me but something I like. I like it too much, way too much, that I missed it when you disappeared,” she continued.
“I didn’t disappear. I told you I would be gone for a few days,” I hissed.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“Doesn’t matter, I didn’t like it. I needed you, I craved you. Then I drove myself nuts thinking about all the shit you were off doing. The women that were probably on their knees between your legs and that’s when I decided I didn’t want to feel anymore,” she said, turning her back to me. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she dropped her head into her hands. “I use you, Jack. For a ride on the back of your bike, for a quick lay, for a goddamn person to talk to. I use you because I’m so tired of being lonely.” She turned around abruptly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I hate you for making me remember what it feels like to be alive. I hate you so much,” she cried, the tears finally falling from the corners of her eyes.
I stood up and for the first time in my life I wanted to fix what was broken. But I wasn’t sure if crazy could fix fucking crazy.
“No,” she protested.
“Reina, stop it,” I growled, reaching out and cupping her face in the palms of my hands. “Go ahead and use me, keep on using me. Use my bike, take my cock, milk me for whatever the fuck you need, Sunshine and I’ll keep using you in return,” I spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ll keep you feeling, realizing you’re living and breathing just as long as you keep giving me what I need. We’ll take whatever we need from each other just as long as we don’t take one another’s hearts, ‘cause I ain’t the loving type, Sunshine,” I warned.
I dropped one hand from her cheek and cupped her chin with the other, my thumb tracing her jaw. “Been a while since I took what I need from you. You about done with this tantrum so we can get on with it?”
She swallowed. “What if I want more?”
“Don’t be stupid, Reina. No one smart ever wants more because the more you have the more you lose,” I said gravely.
I didn’t tell her I was teetering on the edge of stupid or that I was thinking losing everything, my mind included, would be worth it in exchange for having it all with Reina. Just for a little while.
Just a taste.
I wasn’t smart. I was fucking stupid.
And I was going to wreck us both.
Chapter Seventeen
Grief was the biggest bitch of all. There were days when the bitch took over and held me captive, feeding me lies, making me believe all the hurt in my heart was because I had lost Danny. Sure, I loved him, thought I would spend my life with him. He was all I had after having nothing for so long. But I learned that I was done mourning Danny. That sounds horrible, I know. But my truth, the one I hide from myself is that I have misplaced my grief. I’m not mourning the man I loved but the woman I used to be.
The realization became clear the day I shared Danny’s murder with Jack because it was the easiest scar to share. The easiest scar is the weakest, the one that’s fading slowly but surely.
The other scars, they were deep and tore me down. They were the scars that were visible, the scars I kept hidden underneath my clothes. Still, they wove their way inside, latching onto my self-esteem and tearing it to shreds. There was still a shred of hope they would one day vanish from my body. As stupid as it was for me to believe that, I was smart enough to know that if that day ever came they’d still live inside. I still remember what my body looked like when I peeled the gauze from my skin and stared at the ugliness in the mirror. So ugly.
I try to tell myself that vanity is a sucker’s possession, beauty fades over time, and appearances become a memory but it doesn’t seem to work. I’m always transported back to that day when I first saw my body after the fire.