Page 51 of Ruin

She is deathly still beneath me, bar the tremor of her damaged hand, the heat of her short, sharp pants against the bare skin of my chest.

“Charlie,” she whispers, and my heart cracks a little at the sound she makes on the end of my name, a horrid, putrid plea that makes my insides twist. “I just want-”

I lean back, fisting her hair with the hand not collaring her throat, and wrench her head back, arching her neck viciously, forcing her gaze up onto mine.

“I already fucking told you, Kyla-Rose,” I whisper lightly, “I don’t give a fuck whatyouwant. It doesn’t matter whatyouwant. We. Are.Nothing.”

It’s a hiss as it leaves my tongue, the venom from my words injecting directly into my heart.

“Fuck you,” she whispers, sucking in a breath through her teeth. “Fuck.You.”

Her pupils are blown black, face shaded with my shadow falling across her, and she stares up at me like she wants to tear out my throat. It makes me wonder if she will. She could. I’d probably let her if she tired. She was my everything once upon a time. And even now, I would give my life for hers. But it feels different, the way I think it, the way in which my heart doesn’t beat any faster, and my lungs don’t seize.

Everything just feels off.

Wrong.

I think of everything we’ve been through, and it’s like a knife through my chest cavity, spearing my heart, its beat thudding slower and slower.

“That what you want?” I rasp, my eyes unfocused on her face. “Hm? You want my cock inside that desperate little cunt of yours?”

“Get the fuck off me, Charlie,” she thrusts forward, her booted foot lifting and slamming down into the inside of my calf, again and again. “Now, Charlie, let me the fuck go!” she struggles in my hold, her neck arched back, spine curved so far back it feels as though it may snap. “Charlie!” she hisses. “Let go, right now!” her foot collides with my inner knee and my leg almost buckles. “This is madness, Charlie,” she says breathlessly, my hand on her taut throat tightening. “Let me fucking go!” it’s a scream of hysteria, the way her voice hits my ears, but I’m already not listening.

“You want me to fuck you, so you can get it out of your system? That it?” I snarl in her face, “Then you’ll leave me alone?”

Her teeth snap at the underside of my chin. I jerk back, squeezing her neck tighter until her eyes nearly roll back. Her body goes limp, head dropping forward as I tear my fist from her hair, unbutton my jeans.

She gasps for breath, head snapping up as I flex my hold, allowing her to breathe again. Her hands fly up to my forearm, long nails dragging down my skin like knives.

“Don’t do this, Charlie, stop it!” her voice trembles between her lips, teeth chattering, hands clawing at my flesh.

And for a single moment I don’t fucking see her at all, imagining someone else entirely as I snap open the button on her jeans, yank down her zipper.

I see blue eyes ringed in glittering honey, matted dark hair and gaunt cheeks.

Ava.

I almost groan, thrusting my hand down the front of her jeans.

“Charlie!” she shrieks then, at my intrusion, the way my cold skin cups her heat, not moving, just holding her, probably bruising her. “Charlie, Charlie, Charlie,” Kyla-Rose chants. “Stop! Charlie! Please! STOP! Charlie! I’m pregnant!” she screams it at the top of her lungs, her entire body trembling and it’s like my heart drops into my stomach.

I lean forward, our noses brushing, she stares into my eyes, and we’re so close she is nothing but a blur.

“You think I give a fuck?” I whisper over her mouth, a choked breath catching in her throat. “You think I won’t fuck you just because you’re carrying someone else’s fucking spawn?” I scoff, glancing up towards the ceiling, before dropping my gaze back down to look at her, I smile, “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Her eyes flicker between mine as I draw back, and then she spits in my face. My eyes snap closed, her hot glob of saliva slowly sinking down my cheek.

“Fuck you,” she whispers, and it twists something so sharply inside my brain, it almost sends me to my knees. “Fuck.You.Charlie Swallow. Fuck. You.”

It’s as though a wave of clarity washes over me, ears buzzing, sight blurring as I flutter open my lashes, and my hand tears free of her open jeans.

Rage seems to bubble up inside my chest. For me, for her, for us. This situation we always seem to find ourselves spiralling in. Caught in a vicious cycle of pain and torment, misery befalling us both when we just don’t know how not to be this.

We are a disaster, and I don’t know how not to be.

How to fix us.

But to be different from before.

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