Page 125 of Ink Deep Devotion

“I’m not terrified of what I saw, Dash. I know you have killed.” He looks ahead like he’s a bulletproof jacket, and my words can’t puncture his skin.“I’m petrified of what you chose to do. You picked bloodlust over me.”

“Dash is trying to cope.” Damian mutters. He’s always trying to be the bandaid over wounds that bleed too heavily.

“Enough with the excuses, Damian. Dash knew what he was doing. He’s always known. In high school, he offered me freedom attached to a hook. I bit it, and he snared me. I’ve given him everything.” My voice cracks. Dash flinches. Good, he still feels.“My patience, my body, and my heart.”

“Stop,” Dash hisses through clenched teeth.

I don’t care if Damian hears this.“Dash has given me nothing but regrets!”

“Mila,” Damian whispers, a plea that I ignore now.

I look at Dash, narrowing my eyes, but he just repels my glare.“I am no more than a whore that wets your dick!”

“That’s not true!” He screams, finally looking into my eyes, seeing my shattered soul. He shakes, unable to cry. Damian slows the car, ready to pull over, his eyes on Dash, unsure what he will do.

“You’re pissed off. You’ll ignore me, but eventually, you’ll come to my dorm room and convince me to let you fuck me. And I’ll give in because you know my love for you has no limits. We’re a predictable pattern, Dash. Damian knows it. Everyone does, and that makes it easy for you to hurt me because, you know, in the end, I’ll be back in your bed.”

We drive for a half hour before Dash speaks.“You shouldn’t have seen that.” his voice is low and remorseful.

“The truth.” I grab my seatbelt and hold it tight.“I don’t care that you fight or kill. I care that you crave it over my love. That you seek it out instead of coming to me. I’ll always be waiting for you. You know that, and it makes me pathetic.”

His teeth gnash.“You don’t understand.”

“Because you won’t tell me!” I scream.

“It’s better that way.” His head snaps to me.

“Better to watch me suffer.”

“Better to watch you living from a distance than standing at the foot of your grave!” His cry tears through the air, full of pain and agony.

I jerk back as his true fear slaps me in the face. His eyes? They burn like a sour note, as if my hands had squeezed them like a lemon, twisting and pulling everything he had to offer to the point of pain. His peel is ripped open, and now he’s just shredded. One single tear falls free—one last drop of his truth. He’s sealing himself back up.

I want to reach out and catch it, but I slide my fingers under my thighs. I can’t keep rebuilding Dash because each time I do, I take something from myself. Now, I’m the one crumbling as he rises.

I look ahead, meeting Damian’s eyes in the rearview mirror. My glance comes too late. He knows Dash and I are out of luck. It’s a futile chase.

“This war we have been fighting has grown old. I don’t know whose side I’m fighting on anymore, Dash. Mine or yours? I’m just a casualty of it. You win. I’m done.”

Chapter 43

Dash

I hover over Mila, my spine stiff and straight, like a hard shell trying to keep her safe and warm. I wish she would let me remain this way, clinging to her, protecting her so that she could curl inside and call me home. Even predators need shells to survive; unfortunately, some outgrow those defenses. I can’t let Mila think she can step outside my confines.

Her chest rises and falls gently as she sleeps. Her sketchbook lies open on the bedsheets, but no image is concrete—just gestural lines lost in chaos and confusion.

The words she spoke earlier echo in my mind like fleas trying to dig into my flesh so they can feast on me.

“This war we have been fighting has grown old. I don’t know whose side I’m fighting on anymore, Dash. Mine or yours? I’m just a casualty of it. You win. I’m done.”

If I win, that means you’re stuck with me, little fox.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. I am.

She shouldn’t have seen me in that state. I just needed not to feel. Then she showed up, and I felt too much.

I spot my mother’s jewelry box on Mila’s end table. Of course, she would keep it there, out in the open, so she could love it just like she wants to cherish me.

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