Page 260 of Once Upon a Fable
I’d been dreaming.
I’d touched her in my nightmares.
I’d raped—
“Shit, shit,SHIT!” I scooted backward until I collided with the wall of the library. I drew up my knees, complete with undone jeans still clinging to my thighs, and huddled into a ball, breathing hard, coated in sweat, my cock glistening from being inside her.
From being inside her against her will.
Against my will.
Against everything that’d been right and true between us.
No.
Christ, no.
I buried my face in my hands, my bones cracking as I began to shake. It was worse than the snowstorm when I’d been curled at the bottom of Levin’s bed. Worse than any ice or chill I’d ever endured.
This shaking wasn’t because of an outward discomfort but because my heart was shattering, my soul was splintering, my very fucking hope at being human was lost.
Gone.
Shot to pieces.
Just like that.
The sound of Gemma sitting upright and the rustle of clothing as she readjusted the mess I’d caused made me moan under my tattered breath.
I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop the pressure, the swelling mass of grief inside me.
It quadrupled in size, clogging up my lungs until I gasped for air. It punctured my heart until it beat a dying drum.
I couldn’t stand the agony. I couldn’t stomach what I’d done.
“I’m sorry,” I grunted between my fingers. “So,sofucking sorry.”
I couldn’t look up.
Couldn’t see her.
Couldn’t bear witness to what I’d done.
But with my eyes closed, that debilitating lust came back. The whispers of doing to them what’d been done to me hissed in my ears.
Take her.
Finish her.
Come in her.
My hips rocked up on their own accord, making me almost vomit all over the carpet.
God, when would this shitend?
When would I be sane again?
When could I trust what I saw and what I heard were real and not myrotten-riddled past? When would I be myself again? Be that kid who’d loved others more than himself? Who knew that violence against violence only equaled more pain? Who still believed he was worthy of somethinggood?
