Page 234 of Tempting Venom
Or pass out.
Unfortunately, neither of those options happened.
What did happen, however, was lots of shaking and a flood of water that wouldn’t stop coming out of my eyes. Maybe Dr. Fenwick will find a goddamn cure for that.
But I did finish the fucking letter and handed it to Hayes this morning with clear instructions to deliver it personally later today.
After I’m trapped in Dr. Fenwick’s dungeon—sorry, office.
But maybe that wasn’t a good idea, maybe I should ask Hayes to burn it, because I’ll be gone by then, and…what’s the point of it after that?
Just a last hurrah? Me being selfish again with the man who’s only ever been patient with me?
And he has been patient. Iknowhe has. I’m such a clusterfuck, I wouldn’t wish me on my worst enemy. The most nightmarish lover anyone could want.
But Marcus did want me. Even if it was for my outer shell of a body, he still put up with my high-maintenance personality all the time.
The least I could do was let him go, but nah, I had to be selfish again.
I guess I wanted him to know the truth he’s been probing for before I fuck off to that place—where they will kill my soul.
I know I won’t be able to handle it.
For all these years, the only reason I didn’t lose my goddamn mind or get buried in the static or the black hole that’s always trying to swallow me was simply because I was free.
I had hockey and blood fests that let me purge the chaos growing in my mind. I had Miley and even Dad. I had Dr. Duret, who listened to my constant bitching without judgment. I had Kane and especially Jude, who kept me in check when the demons got too loud.
And for a while, I had Marcus.
In the loony bin, I’ll only have Dr. Fenwick’s professional, unfeeling face.
It’ll just be me and my head.
And…I’mscaredof my head.
That motherfucker loathes me and will play all sorts of tricks and games to make me as miserable as possible.
Like last night.
He’ll fill my thoughts with flashbacks of pain, grating sounds, and images of sticky blood.
Lotsof blood.
For the entire night, my mind was scratching, groaning, and stealing my breath.
People’s minds help them get on with life; mine sabotages me at every turn.
And if I get locked up, he’ll just torture me.
I’mtiredof being tortured.
I’m just so fucking exhausted.
Ofeverything.
But I still managed to dress up this morning and do my hair so prettily, because I’ll be going to that place with style.
And you know what the best way to go with style is? A picnic.
