Page 238 of Jagged Souls
“I shall just go then,” he says, “but I’ll be back when you are ready.”
Tears burn my eyes. I don’t want him to go. I want to be the one who walks away. Not the one who’s left behind. Not the one who’s the fuckingvictim.Who’s forced to seek him out later on my hands and knees. Begging like some whore. Like Sadist used to force me to do.
The memories of that fucker’s demands claw at my brain. Ripping it to rotten shreds until blood and bits run down my throat, making me mute. Suffocating me so I can’t get my mouth to speak or my legs to walk. I just stand frozen, panicking that he’s going to leave.
That he’s going to make me a victim.
Except he doesn’t take a step. He just stands there behind his desk, waiting.
Patient.
My throat burns as bad as my eyes now.
My legs giving out, I collapse back into my chair, feeling like I’ve sprinted a mile.
I still don’t want to be here. I just don’t have the strength to go.
I tense, waiting for him to talk, to take my presence as consent when it fucking isn’t.
But he doesn’t. He just sits back down and waits.
And waits.
The silence is thick with unsaid words.
But there’s no pushing.
There are no demands.
I can feel Varius’ growing concern as the hours pass and his attempt to tamper it so I can’t feel it. I can almost feel him pacing in our bedroom. Waiting. Hoping I’m okay.
But Iamokay.
I am.
He wants to come in and see how I am.
I don’t push any comfort down our bond. I don’t have it in me to take care of him. I hate that he’s making me feel like I have to take care of him whenheshould be taking care ofme.
His feelings disappear, the wall between us thick again, and I hate their absence too.
I just hate everything.
I hateme.
I hate what they did to me on that godsforsaken boat.
They were such terrible things.
No.
No, it’s better to just hide it. To bury it deep and move on.
I’m fine.
“I’m fine.”
“What about you do you think is fine?” he asks.
