Page 58 of Heart Sick Hate

The hospital is quiet at this time of night. Being in LA, I didn’t think that was possible. But there are few people wandering the halls, and the nurses are gathered at their station talking over coffee.

Turning the corner, the lights are dimmer. Or maybe I’m blacking out. Each step stretches the space in front of me.

An inescapable tunnel.

My heart starts to race with my breath, and in my mind, I’m pulled back a decade, to when I walked through similar halls covered in blood.

She’s crazy.

She’s violent.

She almost killed him.

“Echo.”

I jump at my name and realize I’m no longer walking. I’m standing frozen in the middle of the hallway outside Rhett’s hospital room.

Crew steps around me, focusing on my cheeks, and I’m not sure what I look like, but his eyebrows pinch in worry.

“You all right?” His eyes scan me over.

I nod, rolling my shoulders back. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

The last thing I need is someone sensing I’m falling apart. Especially Crew.

His eyes scan me once more, and the softness in his usually hard gaze tells me he sees through my lie, but I don’t bother acknowledging it.

“We should talk about what happened.” Crew takes a step closer, but I step back.

It’s too much. The hallway’s already a funhouse, stretching out with whatever occupies my brain. And being too close to Crew sends me to a dark place.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I tip my chin up. “I need to go check on my boyfriend.Your brother.”

To anyone but Crew, the reminder might make them pause. But this is a man with fewer morals than his father, so I’m not surprised that my statement only ignites the flame in his gaze as he takes a step closer.

“Pushing me away already?”

“I told you it was a one-time thing.”

He lets out a dark chuckle. “Is that what you’re telling yourself to feel better about what we did? That it was a lapse of judgment?A mistake?”

I shrug, glancing away, not able to face those eyes that are bound to drag me straight to hell. But Crew notices, gripping my chin and forcing me to face him.

“I can still feel your virgin blood on my cock, Echo.” He presses closer, his heat surrounding me. “I can still feel your virgin pussy tearing open for me. And do you know what? I’m the only man who can say that.”

“Good for you.”

“Better than good, Goldie.” He grinds his teeth. “Best feeling in the fucking universe.”

My words clump in my throat. I’m not sure if he’s trying to taunt me or praise me for what happened, but I shouldn’t be allowing any of it.

“It doesn’t—”

“Change anything,” he cuts me off, finishing my sentence. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Keep lying to yourself and thinking you know me better than I know myself.”

Crew leans in closer, brushing my hair off my neck and trailing his fingers down the center of my throat. “Oh, but I do, Goldie. I know what makes you scream. What makes you beg. What makes you wet. Like right now, even if you’re scared or worried, or I’m pissing you off, I bet if I slipped my hand in those panties, I’d find you soaking.”

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