Page 34 of Savage Scream

I shake my head.

“Do you want to come inside?” He points his thumb over his shoulder and I worry my lip again and shrug. He chuckles. “Come on. Come inside.”

I lean to the side, peering back into the living area through the glass doors to where his parents remain in the same position.

“Don’t worry about them. They’re asleep, and will probably stumble to their bed at some point in the next hour or so. It’s a nightly ritual.” He glances back over his shoulder at his parents before turning back to me. “I can wake them if you like? Tell them to go to bed. Would that make you more comfortable? We can watch some TV.”

I shake my head quickly, and again he smiles.

“Do you want to come inside… to my bedroom?”

He sounds both cocky and nervous as he asks, and I have to wonder how he manages to do that.

I glance back to the window I now definitely know is his bedroom, before returning my gaze to his, and I nod.

“Yeah?” he asks, his brows shooting up, and I nod again, to reassure him.

“Ok. Come on then.” He offers his hand, and I take the four steps to close the distance, placing my hand in his.

I’m expecting him to turn and lead me inside, but he doesn’t. Not yet.

He tugs me closer, his free hand delving into the hair at my nape, and he kisses me.

If I were butter, I’d melt right now. There’s just something about the way Jared Crowley kisses me that is all-consuming. The moment his tongue glides against mine, I’m lost. I press my hands to his bare chest, feeling his smooth hot flesh, and I moan into his mouth.

He breaks the kiss then, pressing his forehead to mine.

“Shit Dee. The things you do to me.”

I want to tell him he does the same things to me, but as usual, I keep my words to myself. It’s something I hate myself for more and more each day, wishing I could just speak the words I want to share with him out loud.

Turning, Jared slides open the glass door and tugs me inside behind him before closing it again. I don’t get a chance to look around, his hand squeezing mine as he leads me past the kitchen, down a passage, and into a bedroom where he closes us in.

I glance around the space. It’s a touch bigger than the bedroom I have at the Rogans’, but it’s definitely more lived in, feeling homely with a couple of football posters, a pin board with a heap of polaroid pictures of him and his mates, a messy desk, and a double bed.

And best of all. This room smells like Jared.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” he states, glancing around his room, but I shake my head when he turns his focus back to me, and I mouth‘it’s fine.’

He smiles down at me before his eyes drop lower, and I see the moment he realises I’m not wearing long sleeves. Lightning fast, his eyes dart back to mine, so I tug him towards his bed, turn him before pushing him back so he sits on his mattress.

“Has something happened?” he asks, looking concerned, and I can tell he’s trying not to look at my arms.

I shake my head, digging deep to find those lady balls again, and I stretch my arms out in between us. His eyes drop to them and he watches as I slowly turn them over to the underside, where faint scars can clearly be seen.

“Dee,” he whispers, his eyes going back and forth from my arms to my face. “Did… you do this?”

I’m not annoyed by his question. It’s the first thing everyone thinks when they see the scars. It’s really only those people who have worked with cutters or are cutters themselves that recognise that these scars are not from self-harm.

I shake my head and run a finger over one of the raised lines. It’s too thick and jagged to be from self-harm, but Jared doesn’t know that.

Frowning, Jared examines my arms again before glancing back up. “Did someone else do this?”

I nod, and he sucks in an audible breath as anger flares across his face.

“Who?” he demands.

‘Travis’ mum.’I mouth, but he doesn’t clearly read my lips.

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