Page 91 of Bleed for Me

It would never be enough.

He could apologize to me over and over again, take an oath like I had, and nothing would ever erase the vile act he committed.

“You should be easier on him,”Mom had said one day, months after it had happened.“He’s just a messed-up kid. He’s sick, Val. You can’t hate him forever. He’s family.”

“Watch me,” I’d replied.

And to this day, I meant every word.

TWENTY-FIVE

ROSALIE

If I was asked to describe my feelings, I wouldn’t know what to say.Lifelesswas the first thought to come to mind. This place had a way of making you question your sanity—your own thoughts. Things have happened that I never would have even thought about doing before. Falling into Archer’s arms, letting him touch me? What the hell was wrong with me? This wasn’t who I was. But this place felt like a prison. There were only so many places you could go, so many things you could do.

My fingers trembled as I held onto the crayon, forcing the utensil across the page before me. This had become one of my favorite pastimes, mostly because there wasn’t anything else to do. The sweet ache between my thighs reminded me of my evening spent with Seven and Archer followed by what happened during visitation. Warmth spread through my veins at the memory. I wasn’t sure whether I should be turned on or repulsed. Maybe both.

A knock at my door had my shoulders drawing tight and my finger stilled despite the small tremors running through mybody. If it was one of those assholes demanding they babysit me, I was going to lose my shit.

“Come in,” I called out from my perch on the floor.

The door creaked open, and I was fully prepared to go the hell off on one of the guys, but my words got stuck in my throat. Cheyanne shot me a sheepish smile as she ventured into my room, casting a small glance around before closing the door behind her.

“Hey.” She lowered herself to the floor, crossing one leg over the other and glanced down at the coloring book sprawled out before me.

“Hi,” I replied with a note of skepticism. When I sat at her table with her and her friends, things didn’t go the best. Shay clearly didn’t like me, and I wasn’t sure how Cheyanne felt about it all. Did she agree with Shaylynn? Did she think I was risking their safety with my own bad decisions pertaining to Jordan and his friends?

Cheyanne’s long, rainbow-colored hair was loose around her shoulders, a stitch forming between her brows like she wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to. Making friends had never been difficult for me before, but the people here were much different than any I’d ever encountered. Everyone already knew each other and had their own little cliques formed.

“Was there something you wanted?” I asked, setting the crayon down and closing the coloring book. Resentment bubbled up within me from the memory of what was said in the cafeteria that day.

Cheyanne pressed her lips together before blowing out a ragged breath. “I wanted to apologize for Shay’s behavior.” She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “What she said wasn’t cool, and not to defend her, but I don’t think she meant to come off as bitchy as she did.”

I snorted in response. “You’re eitherblindlyloyal to your friend, or just… really naïve.” I heard Shay loud and clear. That wasn’t from a place of genuine concern, even if I thought it could have been at first. It was from a place of jealousy and callousness.

“Maybe,” she agreed.

Neither one of us said anything for a few moments, letting the silence wrap around us in a tension-filled cocoon. I was so sick of mind games, of not knowing what was real and what wasn’t. Life was too short for unwarranted toxicity, and if they truly believed thatmydecisions were affectingthem, then they weren’t people I wanted to associate myself with anyway.

Before I ended up here, I’d mostly gotten along with everyone. It also helped that I was a bit of a people pleaser, and maybe even a social butterfly. But this place was different. It was darker, and like Jordan said, tainted.

There was no room for innocence in a place like this. You either adapted, or you faded away.

Cheyanne’s voice sliced through my thoughts again. “You seem… different,” she commented. “Not in a bad way,” she rushed to add. “Just more sure of yourself.”

My gaze flicked to hers, my head twisting and churning with the assortment of thoughts racing through it.

She’s judging you

She’s judging us.

She thinks she’s better than we are.

I winced, sucking in a deep breath before letting it back out again.Us?

Indeed. We are you, and you are we.

Voices… just like Jordan. Did his voices cause him to snap and murder his own family, or was that his paranoia? Was it something else altogether? Was I destined to do somethingjust as vile? They sounded so real—like actual voices echoing through my skull, distorted by only the distance between us.

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