Page 66 of Quiet Obsession
Every time I blink, I see something different.
Millie’s glorious, naked body. Blood smeared over her thighs. The pleasure painting her face when she came beneath me. Blood on my cock. Those perfect breasts, rosy cheeks, and trust in her eyes. Blood again.
My pulse hasn’t settled for one goddamn minute. My lips are still swollen and fucking bruised from her desperate kisses. My back stings where she dug her nails.
And, to make things extra bad, I’ve injured my knuckles worse than ever before, taking my frustration out on the heaviest bag without wraps. I shouldn’t have hit so hard, but her parting words detonated something ugly inside me.
Fight night is tomorrow, and my knuckles look as if I’ve shoved them into a meat grinder. They’ve scabbed over but they reopen every time I flex my fists.
Fuck, I don’t understand that girl.
I fuckinghateher right now. I fucking hatemyself, but that’s nothing new. I’ve spent the better part of the day cursing my mother for leaving me with a monster and cursing my father for making me in his image. Cursing the teachers, neighbors, and my aunt for looking the other way.
I’ve never been soft in bed. Always rough, taking pleasure the only way I know how. Hard, fast, no thinking.
As soon as Millie kissed me, adrenaline flooded my veins and my inhibitions went out the window. My mind switched intotakemode. Millie didn’t help, fueling that primitive, violent side, moaning and pulling me in like she couldn’t get enough.
Blood. On. Her. Thighs.
I need noise. Enough to drown out what I did and there’s only one place where I can get it.
Grabbing my jacket, I slam the door behind me. Keys in hand, I pass a group of seniors on my way out of the building. As usual, girls stare, elbowing one another while pointing my way. The braver ones smile, uttering a quiethi, Creed.
A few guys measure me from my head down to myfucking shoes, but most avert their gaze quickly. They don’t want to draw attention in case I’m in the kind of mood where one wrong look would have me marking their forehead with a redX.
No one wants that.
I jump into my GMC and peel out of the parking lot, heading into Blackwood Point, a nearby town. The twenty-minute drive passes in a blur so profound I have no idea how I’m still alive instead of curled around some roadside tree.
The bartender, Jed, groans when I walk in, both elbows landing on the bar. “Forget it,” he tells me. “Not tonight.”
“Yes, tonight. Hit me.”
He stares at me, perfectly aware he can’t deny me a drink, or I’ll have Wade—his boss—here inside ten minutes. He’s a good friend of mine and owes me a shit ton of favors. One for every night he spent placing bets in the theater basement after I talked Brock into letting him in even though the events are student-only.
It’s also one of the reasons why Wade never barred me from entry despite the semi-regular demolition happening around here, thanks to my shitty moods.
With a grumble, Jed slides a Budweiser my way, the rest of the evening probably playing inside his head on a loop. We’ve done this plenty of times over the years. He knows how things go when I turn up with a dent between my brows.
“Does Hyde know you’re here?” he asks.
A shudder slithers down my spine at the mention ofmy best friend. It brings forth his little sister and the betrayal. I almost slide the beer back, but the need to dull the fucking agony tearing through me is too powerful. I’ve already done my worst today.
What will letting Hyde down again change in the grand scheme of things?
Nothing.
He doesn’t expect any better from me. I’m living up to his expectations. Besides, once he finds out what I’ve done with his sister, he’ll finally see me the way I see myself.
I’ve been on borrowed time with him since day one.
He shouldn’t have forgiven me for keeping him from Millie that night. She needed him, but he stayed by my hospital bed, talking me down from yet another spiral. He watched over me while I sobered up, three stitches over my brow, a cast on my hand after my pinky gave in on that guy’s cheekbone.
He should’ve answered the fucking phone. Should’ve left me there, but that’s the thing about Hyde... he doesn’t leave his friends in need, and I used that against him.
Fuck, I wish I were a better friend. I wish today hadn’t rattled me so much that I’m back looking for fights in bars. I wish I could control myself better. I’ve done a decent job this past year, but Millie’s tilted me off my axis and every resolution I made outside her hospital room, crawling out of my skin to win Hyde’s friendship back, got washed down the drain.
Millie, Millie,Millie Baby... you drive me fucking crazy.
