Page 88 of Still Beating

This isunfixable.

My eyes are glazed with disbelief as I look up at her, wishing I could erase the heartbroken, forsaken expression staring back at me. My fingertips lift to brush against the welting hand print on my cheek, my remorse and regret eating me alive. “I’msosorry, Mandy.”

She takes a step back, shaking her head furiously. “I can’t believe you’re my sister. I can’t believe you were going to be mymaid of honor.” Mandy wipes at the stray tears lingering on her cheekbones. “You’re disgusting. You’retrash. You’re the most selfish person I’ve ever met, and I never want to see you again. Mom and Dad will disown you over this.”

I gape at her, my mouth parted with incredulity.

Mandy spits out one final barb before storming away: “I hope his dick was worth it.”

The front door slams for the second time that day, another person I care about walking away from me, angry and betrayed. I collapse onto the kitchen tiles, a panic attack creeping into my lungs and taking over. I sob hysterically, manically, ashamed and astounded by the damage I’ve caused. I’m a broken pile of bones and failure, crumpled on the ground, wanting to die.

I just want to die.

All those weeks fighting so hard to live, and for what?

Hell followed me home.

It lives inside me, housing all of my demons and ghosts and unforgivable flaws.

Two wet dog noses tickle my cheeks, and then my tears are kissed away by worried tongues. I stare up at the ceiling fan spinning in circles above me.

Around, around, and around.

It could spin forever, spiraling out of control, until I decide to turn it off.

I try to catch my breath, choking on ugly hiccups as I wipe at my nose and rise to unsteady feet. The dogs follow me around the kitchen while I fill their bowls with food and water. I don’t bother to lock the front door as I head towards the hall bathroom, flipping off the ceiling fan before I round the corner.

I open up the mirrored medicine cabinet and reach for my sleeping pills. I snap the door shut, gazing at my reflection, feeling totally numb. My eyes are red and swollen, my nose puffy. I’m marked and bruised all over.

Dean’s teeth and tongue carved into my neck.

Mandy’s slap of scorn across my face.

I blink slow, then glance down at the pill bottle clasped inside my fist.

My whole life I’ve been terrified of the ocean. I’ve been scared of being dragged down into a cold, dark sea, swallowed by waves, clutching my chest and gasping for air.

But this sea is not made of water.

And maybe drowning is the only way out.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“Corabelle.”

I can hear my name being called from the other side of the shoreline.

I hate that dreadful name, and yet, it sounds so much sweeter flickering across his tongue. My hands wave around in the air, trying to grab his attention. “Dean!”

His head twists in every direction, until he spots me running towards him in the sand. “There you are,” he says, a devilish grin lifting on his mouth. “I thought I lost you.”

I leap into his arms and he catches me right beneath my thighs. Our noses kiss, my smile matching his. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

My head bobs as I lean in to caress his lips with mine. I pull back, searching his eyes. “Are we going to be okay?”

Dean plants another kiss against my forehead, then sets me back down, my toes disappearing into the sand. He places his hand over my heart, while reaching for my own hand and placing it against his. With my hand to his chest, and his to mine, our heartbeats vibrating through our fingertips, he whispers down at me, “They’re still beating. As long as they’re beating, we’re okay.”

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