Page 115 of Tear Me Down
I’m ruined.
As fractured as I’ve probably ever been, but this time is so much worse. This last act is just another piled on several other instances, and now it feels as if that’s all I was made for. Push through, get dragged down again, persevere, and fall again. It’s a vicious cycle, one that he just doesn’t see yet. I have the perfect man acting out to avenge me, though he doesn’t see it as pointless as I do. I’m practically nothing but recycled goods at this point—used and consumed to just be spit back out in a lesser form.
A broken toy that’s passed around.
“Ashia, can you hear me?”
I don’t want to feel this way. I want to go back to the lake, to the times on the roof, or on the greenway, looking down at the water that most likely holds so many tales. Some good, some bad, probably some catastrophic reminder of floods that ripped through the town over the years, and some miracles of being the only water for miles. I want to drown in nothing but his smell and his presence until it quite literally suffocates me, even if it gives off nothing but waves of a façade, a rolling lie that he doesn’t see me any differently than he did before.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know.”
Is there a possibility of moving on from this? I know that Serena looked away when the feed was broadcasted for Damien to see, but did anyone else? Carter watched, and while I know he didn’t want to, he had to try and trace theconnection. It was useless, though, and I’m sure he realized that after the first few minutes. Serena may not have watched, but she said she heard everything he said. Which means everyone else did too. His men, his cousins, my brother. Did the men that stayed in the city see it? The men in the truck with Damien? Was everyone around witnessing my downfall, and if they were, is Damien ashamed? Embarrassed?
“What should we do?”
“I’m calling the hospital psychologist. If she’s dissociating, I don’t know how to help her. We might have to bring her in.”
“Absolutely not!”
The last thing Damien needs is for his men to look at him with pity in their eyes. He’s already afraid that they doubt him, and that he isn’t strong enough to lead them. Ever since Henry died, and now the moles and mercenaries, his self-doubt is stronger than ever, and his men watching me be defiled certainly won’t help that. I know he loves me, but I love him enough to know that I’m not good for him. I have nothing to offer him, and clearly I’m not nearly as strong as I thought I was. He doesn’t need a weak link, and I’ve known that for some time. I just convinced myself that I could be stronger for him, be the force he needs, when in reality, I was feeding off of the force that was lying in wait to strike against me.
“Ash, come on. You’ve got to snap out of it…”
“No! Don’t touch her! Doctor Foley says not to touch her.”
“Well, is he saying anything useful?”
“Just hold on, Zeke. I’m trying to talk to him.”
“Fuck that, let me talk to him!”
I’ll never escape. It’s always when I’m feeling safe and secure that tragedy finds me. When I finally feel at peace and not in a constant state of panic, and just when I finally feel that I’m home, something reminds me of why I shouldn’t. I keep trying to create the life I crave with the man of my dreams, and the universe keeps punishing me for it—ultimately deciding that I’m not worthy of a life with happiness and contentment.
“That’s it. I’m getting Damien.”
“No! He’ll try to snap her out of it, and Doctor Foley said to try and let her come out of it on her own.”
“We can’t just leave her like that!”
“We have to, Zeke! If you try to pull her out of it, it may do more harm than good!”
Nobody should have to endure the despair that follows me. A life with me is no life at all, and the people I love deserve so much better than me. Serena deserves a friend that can go out and explore the world without having to constantly look over her shoulder, Zeke deserves a sister that can accept his want for a familial bond, and Damien. My sweet, perfect Damien deserves awife who can stand tall beside him regardless of the situation at hand. A perfect mother for his children, one that doesn’t have the urge to lock the family up in a tower and never resurface. He deserves a woman who will fight the storm with him and not sit here and cower while he cleans up my mess. I should be down there, inflicting as much pain as I feel, but I can’t… Because I’m nothing. Whatever false bravado I tricked myself into having is gone.
I’m broken, and I’m not sure there’s anything left to fix this time.
Chapter forty-three
Damien
More screams ring out as Daisy latches onto the final piece of her assignment. She almost dangles in the same way she did when she bit into his tricep, but because she’s biting off his cock, she has a little more leverage for her hind legs. The two syringes I had filled with adrenaline have been drained, and the last time I attempted to use the smelling salts, they almost didn’t work. My options for keeping him alive and conscious are almost up, and I’m going to have to get more creative if I plan to prolong this any further.
“Heel.” She immediately obeys, but not before she rips the appendage off and drops it to the floor in front of him. Blood spurts, and his screams are nothing but strained gasps now from his vocal cords being abused nonstop for the past few hours. I know in order to keep him alive, I have to cauterize it quickly, but I’m almost tempted to let this poetic justice be the last thing he experiences.
But I quickly relent to the thought and jerk the press off the heating element for the final time, clicking it off. As I press it against his crotch, he barely reacts to it this time, clearly on the verge of passing out again.
The door opens behind me, but I don’t bother looking. Everyone was given their instructions and knows to keep Ashia upstairs and away from this carnage. Anyone else is irrelevant.
