Page 13 of The Pretty Psycho

After waking up for the first time just hours ago with Adrian by my side, I was in and out of sleep several more times, until I finally woke up in the afternoon hours, Yolanda next to me, screaming like a banshee when she finally realized that I was looking at her.

But he wasn't here.

I thought I had dreamed him, but his scent still lingered on the sheets, telling me that his words, his touches, his little kisses were as real as Yolanda and Dante standing in front of my bed, talking animatedly about the things happening at the Academy. Jax sat on the couch located right underneath the window, quiet, observing, and I didn't miss the way his eyes lingered on my friend, or the way they flared every time Dante placed his hand on Yolanda's shoulder.

I guess I wasn't the only one keeping little secrets, and I actually needed to talk to Yolanda about it.

As much as I liked Jax before I found out the truth, I didn't want him taking advantage of her. I didn't want him leading her on when there would be nothing serious happening betweenthem. Yolanda lived her life wearing rose-colored glasses, waiting for her Prince Charming, and I had a feeling that Jax was very much the opposite of the prince she deserved to have.

I thought I'd be annoyed when the three of them pushed inside, after Adrian called them, but their presence was soothing. Their rambling took my mind off of the events that put me inside the hospital and every single time the little box I shoved all those memories in started opening, I slammed it closed, refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

My body felt like it belonged to another person. Every single part of me hurt, though it wasn't the physical pain that made me want to give up and never move again, but the scars seared into my soul I couldn't remove. Even when I tried pushing them inside that pretty little box along with all those memories.

I could see his face, his wild eyes, his stench, and every time those memories threatened to resurface I turned my head toward the pillow where Adrian slept not so long ago, inhaling his clean, woodsy scent, calming down at least momentarily.

I hated that I sought him out in my darkest moments, because after what he did, he did not deserve even a simple glance from me. He didn't deserve my touch earlier this morning, but like a moth attracted to the flame, I sought his warmth because basking in his darkness was better than drowning in my own.

This weakness taking a hold of my soul was not something I was used to. It wasn't something I ever wanted to feel, but how could I move on when every single atom in my body screamed in a pain that had nothing to do with the wounds on the surface of my skin? Those wounds would heal, but the shuddering realization that the ones that ran soul deep never would had me closing my eyes and slowly inhaling and exhaling, ignoring the soft lullaby Yolanda's voice had created. Had it been anyone else,any other guy, maybe it wouldn’t have felt as if my own soul cracked with every new inhale, but it was Adrian.

It was the man I was starting to… I was starting to feel something. Something I haven’t felt before, and he… He betrayed me.

"Vega?" my friend, my little sunshine, called out my name, her fingers slowly wrapping around my hand. I wanted to both push her away and bring her closer.

I wanted to bury myself inside their hearts, under their skin, because my own was too tight to wear right now. There were goosebumps all over my flesh, and they had nothing to do with the colder temperature of the room. This kind of cold, this soul-deep chill could not be erased with a soft blanket and the arms I could call home.

Not even Adrian's presence could erase the stain now marring my soul, and I had no idea how to move on from this. How to breathe without choking. How to see the world as anything but the purgatory we were all stuck in.

The sound of feet shuffling on the marble floor had me opening my eyes, but I only saw the back of Jax's jacket as he and Dante went out of the room, closing the door with a soft click behind them. I kept looking at the place they just vacated, refusing to look at Yolanda, because I knew what I was going to see.

The same thing I saw when I just opened my eyes after her screeching had stopped the first time.

Pity.

Fear.

Sadness.

I didn't want them to pity me. I didn't want them to be sad for me.

I wanted the anger I could control. I wanted the rage simmering deep inside of me, because I had no idea how todominate these other… emotions living inside my bones. I had no idea what to do with the sorrow clinging to every inch of me.

But anger… Anger I could wield, use, and abuse, just how it abused me. I could turn it into the most lethal weapon without even trying. It was what had kept me moving all those years while I was lost in the dark pit of The Schatten, trying to crawl out and end on top.

My fists clenched, my teeth biting into my bottom lip as the pain from my fucked-up hand rocked through my body, but I didn't stop. Pain was better than the thoughts rushing through my mind. Pain told me I could still feel something, because sometimes it felt like I was dead and I just haven't realized it yet.

"Vega," Yolanda murmured again. "Look at me." I could feel her eyes on the side of my face. I could feel the unspoken words mingling in the air around us, yet I couldn't look at her.

I was more afraid of what I would see there. At least in my darkness I knew what to expect, but to see this girl I thought I could save looking at me with pity… I couldn't take it. I couldn't bear the fact that I thought I was her savior when I couldn't even save myself.

The scraping of a chair over the floor had me wincing, and the moment her hand left mine I wanted to beg her to come back. To give me just a little bit of the warmth I was lacking.

What I didn't expect was for her to jump on top of the bed, and whether I wanted it or not, I turned to look at her, my eyes wide as this Viking-sized girl pushed at my body, trying to make space for herself, looking at me with so much anger.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I rasped, hating how weak my voice sounded. I missed the control I always used to have. It kept slipping and slipping through my fingers, like fucking Jell-O, just dripping down my hands with no way to catch it. "Yolanda?"

"Shush," she bit out, pushing one of her arms under my neck and the other one over my chest, pulling me to her as if I weighednothing. "I'm gonna hold you now, okay, and you're not gonna say a single thing but let me hold you."

Fuck. FUCK.

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