Page 133 of Wild Eyes
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I breathe out, dread and panic setting in.
I’m right back where I started when I got to this town—paralyzed by knowing I don’t belong to myself. Nothing is mine; everything I do is for mass consumption.
Even when I don’t want it to be.
West’s palms land on my shoulders, and he gently presses, seating me on the log. I feel wooden, like a Barbie whose legs you can bend.
He stays close but doesn’t invade my space.
From the corner of my eye, I see West, elbows propped on his thick fucking thighs, tattooed fingers linked, tossing nervousglances my way. I keep my gaze fixed on the water. Facing him feels like too much.
“What can I do?”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
I hear the low rumble in his throat and watch his fingers tense and flex like he’s imagining hitting someone. But that’s the thing about this situation—he can’t fight me out of this mess. The man whose inclination has been to protect me from the beginning can’t protect me from this.
I’m sure it’s killing him. But the worst part is…
“I did this to myself.”
I can hear his teeth grind as he shakes his head. He reaches for me, drags me into his lap, and holds me close. “Skylar, don’t say that. You didn’t share them on the internet.”
“If I’d been thinking straight, I’d have considered the possibility that this could happen. Things like this happen to people like me.”
“Doesn’t make it your fault.”
I roll my lips together. It sure feels like my fault. The guilt is almost as crushing as the embarrassment.
“What did Ford say?”
My laugh is tearful. Poor, sweet Ford. His big, bleeding heart was not cut out for delivering news like this. He sounded choked up at first, and then…venomous. “He said he was going to spare no expense scrubbing the internet and finding where they came from.”
West nods now. “Don’t doubt it. He’s the type who would.”
“It won’t make a difference, West.”
He sighs, but there’s a pained moan in it. A little peek of heavy emotion that’s pushed its way through. Then he holds me tighter. “I’m so fucking sorry someone did this to you.”
I smile sadly, still staring at the water. Too humiliated to even face the man I love.
“Me too.”
In an attempt to prove to myself that everything is fine, I decide to leave the property on Monday morning to get Cherry a restock on her dwindling birdseed. West left me—hesitantly—to go to work. And I’m not about to make him run my errands on top of everything else that he’s already done.
I’m not that pathetic.
In fact, I tell myself I’m wearing the Sparkly Turquoise Unicorns hat because I’m a fan of the team and not because I’m hoping to hide under the brim. And the aviator sunglasses? They are just because it’s sunny.
Downtown Rose Hill is quiet right now and I convince myself everything will be fine. I haven’t looked at my phone. I did briefly check my inbox, but all I saw were requests for comments and emails from my dad and my agent explaining how we can use this publicity in a positive way. I closed it pretty quickly after reading that.
I tug the door to the pet food store open and stride inside, dropping my head as the bell above jingles. I definitely don’t need to be announced by a bell right now. That’s too much for me, even in this moment of bravery.
My eyes scan the shelves and land on the brand Cherry likes best. Every other type has caused her to dump the feed all over the bottom of her cage before shouting, “Hate it!”
“There it is,” I mumble to myself in relief as I slide it off the shelf. I’m feeling more at ease about my foray out into the world as I turn at the end of the aisle to head back to the front till.
But the foray turns to shit when I come face-to-face with Bree in the cat food section.
