Get Off on the Pain(30)

He grabs both of my arms and squeezes while looking down. He’s still fighting it. “You want to know where the fuck I have been for the last six years? Why I tell you to stay the hell away from me?”

I nod my head and look him dead in the eye as he 1100ks back up, even though I’m almost afraid of his answer. “Yes.”

“I was in prison,” he says thickly. “That’s exactly why you should stay away. Everyone around me gets hurt. That should be enough.”

He starts the engine and pulls out.

“I’m taking you home.”

I’m stunned speechless for some odd reason. I want to say something, ask him why . . . but I don’t. I have a feeling it’s not the time.





MY HEART FEELS AS IF it’s been ripped straight from my fucking chest and my lungs feel as if they’re on fire. I wanted to stay with my mom for longer and remember the good times, remember her, but it hurt so fucking bad that I could barely breathe. I know it may make me seem like a pussy, but I have never been good with controlling my emotions; especially, when it came to that woman. She gave birth to me and I respected her with everything in me. Seeing her in pain killed me every day and hurt me even more knowing that there was nothing I could do ease her suffering.

I had to get away so I could breathe again. Having Lyric there to witness it didn’t help the matter one bit. It only made me want to give in, to have a moment of weakness, and I can’t allow that. Once you start feeling—the pain never stops. Physical pain I can deal with, but emotionally, I cut myself off a long time ago . . . and being around Lyric makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time: hope, need, desire, and selfishness. My need to be selfish with her and have her all to myself is too great to ignore.

Ever since she came into my life, standing there behind me on the porch that day, I knew she would be hard to forget. From her messy, caramel hair and pouty lips, to the fire in her big, green eyes, I knew she was going to test me unlike anyone else ever has. I could tell she was a fighter just like me.

The only thing I need right now is to get out of my head and away from the woman beside me.

“Go inside, Lyric. I’ll wait here until you get in.”

She looks over at me from the passenger seat, one hand on the door handle. She’s not letting me go so easily. I can see it in her expression. “You’re not going home?”

I turn away and look straight ahead, refusing to look at her. If I do—I’ll cave in. I’ve already done that enough with her. It needs to stop. “No. I can’t be there right now. You really don’t need to worry about it. Now go. Goodnight.”

She takes her hand off the handle and pulls her seatbelt back on. “Good, because I don’t feel like going home either.” She nods her head toward the road. “Let’s go.”

“No,” I say firmly. “Just go inside.”

“Why not? What is the big deal? What is so wrong with taking me along and getting to know me? I’m not asking you for anything other than company. It’s a big fucking world and it sucks being in it alone.”

I let out a slow, deep breath and finally look over at her. She needs to see that I’m a fucking monster. I ruin lives and it will be no different with her. “Because I don’t want you around me when I’m drinking. I’m working hard here to keep my fucking hands off you. If I get fucked out of my mind . . . I’m going to want to fuck you and once I fuck you, the game changes. You don’t want that. Trust me.”

She nervously runs her hands through her hair and looks at my lips, swallowing. “You don’t know shit about what I want. Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think. Now can we go? It doesn’t look like Bailey is home anyways. I don’t feel like sitting home alone.”

She always does this to me. I don’t get why she is so hard to get rid of. She’s pushing me and I can only hold off for so long before I fuck her senseless and pull her into my dark world; a place she doesn’t belong. “Just keep your distance from me. If your friends are there then you hang out with them. Okay?”

I look over at her when she doesn’t respond. “Okay, Lyric? I need you to understand and stay away? Say it.”

She looks up at me with fire in her eyes. She’s not happy with being told what to do. Another thing I like about her. Well fuck me. “Fine. I get it. Let’s just go,” she says stiffly.

We ride in silence, her occasionally looking over in my direction while fiddling with her seatbelt. I can tell she wants to ask me something, but is fighting hard to keep it inside. I don’t blame her. If I were her, I’d have a shit ton of questions. Now, I can only hope she won’t ask them. I hate lying, so avoiding them is my best option.