Page 104 of When Hearts Awaken

“What do you want, sir?” the bartender asks in a thick Russian accent.

“The strongest vodka you have.” The anger I tamped down before burns through the restraints.

He sets down a glass and pours alcohol into it.

“Leave the bottle,” I command before chugging the drink down and wincing at the burn singeing my throat.

My hand trembles as I pour myself another shot, my body blistering with rage, her words in the car finally burrowing deep into my consciousness.

Those fucking bastards.Unwanted images of her being brutalized fill my mind, and I grip the glass tightly, my knuckles stark white. Fury I’ve never felt before rumbles through my veins—I feel like an atomic bomb, seconds away from going off.

I’m going to kill them.I’ll find every one of them and kill them. Then it still wouldn’t be enough.

My vision turns red as the alcohol hits my bloodstream. I want to maim, destroy, burn the world down.I’m going to kill them.

I slam the glass onto the bar top and it shatters into a thousand pieces.

A sudden hush descends on the room, and belatedly a sharp pain radiates from my palm. My eyes refocus and I realize a shard of glass has embedded itself into my hand and blood is flowing out of the wound.

“Sir, are you okay?” The bartender rushes over and hands me a stack of napkins.

I curl my fist around them and hiss at the pain. It’s a superficial cut. It hurts like a motherfucker, but I won’t die.

As I watch the river of crimson spread on the napkins, I’m hit with a sudden realization—this blood, this pain—it’s only the tiniest fraction of what Taylor has been dealing with all these years.

Alone. With no one by her side. Abandoned by two people she thought were in her inner circle. Doubted by authority figures.

What the fuck am I doing?I should be with her instead of being here.

Tossing a few hundreds on the table—they’ll figure out the currency conversion themselves—I stand up.

Ignoring the stares leveled my way, I stride toward the elevators as fast as my feet could take me.

An urgency fills my veins, a desperation to be near her, to be the one pressing the bandage on her wounds and kissing her stitches and scars, loving them, caring for them because no one did that for her.

A few minutes later, I knock on her door, my heart racing a mile a minute.

I hear her footsteps, followed by her voice. “Who is it?”

“Minx, it’s me. Open up.”

Chapter 44

“You don’t think I’mdamaged? So fucking messed up? You don’t think I’m dirty?”

I stare at the dark ceiling as my questions to him echo in my ears, my fingers trailing over Alexis’s friendship cuff on my wrist.

He didn’t answer me.

I try not to let the hurt in—it was an emotional moment, and while he suspected something happened to me, I knew he was shocked at all the details. It was a rude awakening.

It would be a lot for anyone to take.

And maybe he couldn’t answer me because he didn’t want to hurt my feelings.

Maybe he’d never look at you the same way again.Now he knows all my dark secrets, the grime I can’t scrub away no matter how many showers I take.

My eyes burn and I clutch the blankets closer to my chest as I replay our conversation over and over.

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