Page 25 of Savage Vicious Heir: Part Two

I shouldn’t have told her.

I hate that she knows—that she’s looking at me with so much pity and sympathy. It reminds me too much of life before I knew her and Liv, and Raine. When I was no one. Just the weird shy girl with scars on her face. The girl people laughed and stared and pointed at.

The girl who preferred to stay in the shadows.

I’m not her anymore.

But right now, I wish I was.

I want to hide. To let the darkness swallow me whole so I don’t have to face reality.

“Abi?” Concern shines in her eyes as she reaches for me.

“I’m fine.” I flinch. “I’ll walk you out.”

I need her to go.

“Oh, I don’t have to leave yet. I can stay. We can?—”

“I just want to be alone.”

Her expression crumples. “Oh, okay.” Tally gets up and I walk her to the front door. “If you need anything, you have my number.”

“Thank you.”

She opens the door and relief trickles through me. But then she pauses at the last second, looking back at me.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, Abs,” she says. “But none of this makes sense. Elliot cares about you, I know he does. In his own twisted way, he cares.”

“Maybe so,” I say, hating that she can’t just let it go.

Hating that her words will burrow their way into my heart and embed themselves there.

I give her a sad smile and whisper, “But he obviously doesn’t care enough.”

7

ELLIOT

Despite my resistance, after our little heart-to-heart, Reese drags my arse up and insists I hit the gym harder than I ever have in my life in an attempt to banish the demons.

I’m not sure any kind of workout has the power to eradicate my father and Scott from my life, but I was willing to give it a good go.

I can’t lie. It feels good—the pain, the exertion, the trembling muscles. Focusing on something other than the pain in my chest and the colossal mistakes I’ve made is what I need.

By the time we walk out of the gym, I can barely hold myself up. But for the first time since Wednesday night, I can think about something other than Abigail.

At least for a few minutes.

“You need to go and talk to her,” Reese says as we make our way across campus, officially ending my ‘do not think about Abigail’ mantra.

“She’s not here,” I reason.

He laughs, although there is no humour behind it. “Like you don’t know where she is,” he mutters. “There are only a handful of places she’d go. And even if there weren’t, you’re Elliot Eaton, you’ll find her.”

“Maybe you overestimate my skills,” I mutter, not entirely sure I like the picture he just painted of me. It sounds a little like two other men I’d rather have nothing in common with.

“Okay, so where have you been every night then?” He smirks. “And do try and bullshit me into saying you came back late. I know you didn’t.”

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