Page 94 of Bad Kind of Love

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Becca

“Becca?” The soft voice whispers over me, causing my body to flinch in fear. “I have a few errands to run, so I’ll be home a little later.”

I relaxed when I realized it was just Aunt Claire standing over me.

“Okay.” I groan, flipping over. I’m still dressed in the same outfit as last night. After coming home, I threw myself into bed, not bothering with my clothes or makeup.

It was pointless.

Reaching for my phone beside me, I check for any messages but my phone was completely dry. No calls or texts from both Wes and Jack.

Fuck.

My head falls into my pillow, grabbing each side I scream like a psychopath into the soft material. I yell till my lungs burn, and my voice cracks from the high pitch.

I’ve managed to ruin two lives as well as my own.

Lying in bed, I felt as though I was sinking into the mattress like it was quicksand. With all the betrayal and guilt that laid heavy on my conscience, I was afraid it might swallow me whole.

With the small amount of energy I still had, I dragged myself out of bed and hopped into the shower. Washing away the memories of last night, I lean my head back, letting the water run down my face. The water was hot, borderline boiling, but I glued my feet to the shower.

More pain was the only cure for pain.

It was a kind of drug I’ve used my whole life to deal with suffering.

Once I was finished with my shower, I towel dried my hair, leaving it down wet. Normally I’d take the time to at least blow dry it but I wasn’t in the mood. Instead I threw on an oversized shirt and jeans and marched downstairs.

The house was empty and quiet as I padded through the living room.

If only my head were this quiet.

Entering the kitchen, I reach into the fridge and pull out a yogurt cup. My stomach has been in knots for the past day or two and nothing seems appetizing besides this cup of strawberry yogurt. As I’m about to take a bite, I hear heavy pounding on the front door.

Wes?

Jack?

My heart rate picks up and I gently set the cup down onto the counter before striding into the living room.

The pounding continues and soon a voice follows.

“Becca, I know you’re in there. Open up.” Jack's urgent voice caused me to fling the door open.

Was he crazy or something?

“What are you doing here?” I gasp as my eyes land on his tired eyes and wild hair. With his arms outstretched above him leaning against the door frame, he weasels past me inside the house.

“I needed to see you.” He sounds desperate as I slam the door shut behind me.

“You didn’t seem all that worried about me last night.” I cross my arms over my chest insinuating the zero texts and calls I received from him. “You shouldn’t even be here, Jack. My aunt could come back any second and find you here.”

“I was worried.” He growled defensively. “I was fucking worried about the both of you all night.”

His chest rises and falls as he grows angry, but the mention of his worry for Wes does something to my heart.

“How is he?” I ask hoping he at least went home last night.

---