Page 117 of Inevitable Destruction

I never asked for this, for him, but having him with me, breathing into me, touching me. I reacted only on instinct, taking what felt good and thriving on his reaction.

He melted so beautifully into me, so willingly, giving me everything he had. His body, his mind, his fucking addiction. He gave all of him to me, just like I wanted. Then, I pulverized his essence in an attempt to ease the ache that wouldn’t lessen, that persisted no matter how much I tried to alleviate it, anyway I knew how.

What I finally fucking realize now, staring at Dominik’s battered body, bruised and mutilated, was that the ache shifted piece by piece. Parts of me slowly came back together with every kiss, every touch of his curls between my fingers, every brush of his lips against my heated flesh, every shift of his hips under my assault of his body.

When I left him how I always planned to, ripping myself away, I left a visceral, gaping wound on the both of us. But he was too far gone to survive it.

And now we’re here.

I put him here.

“Rhett, calm down.” A hand squeezes my shoulder, and I launch myself from Dominik’s body, a scream ripping through my throat. I spin around, coming face to face with a wide-eyed Jamie.

“I CAN’T. I fucking did this to him. ME! Oh, God,” I wail, my arms wrapping around my middle as I collapse in on myself, unable to stay standing. My knees crash to the cold, hard floor—much like they did when I walked out on him.

I should’ve taken the pain for what it was then and turned around. I should’ve pressed his face back into my abdomen and held him to me for the rest of time.

“I should’ve kept us together. He’s mine. Mine.” My voice is nothing but a hoarse whisper now despite the sobs ripping through me, never ending.

“Why did I do this? It doesn’t make sense anymore. I’ve lost sight of it all. Why, why, why?”

The events of the last few months flash through my mind, playing like the sickest horror movie. I played on his vulnerabilities—his insecurities—and turned him into a walking time bomb, set to detonate and demolish anything in his path.

“This wasn’t your fault,” Jamie pleads with me, and I shove her away, hating her touching me. Everyone but him touching me feels inimical.

The irony is not lost on me.

“I was the one who fed his addiction. I fucking forced it on him. Sure, he had issues, but I played into them. The first time, I forced him to suck my cock for some pills, Jamie.” A weak scoff puffs from my lips, sending a vibration through them. Her breath hitches with a sharp intake, and my eyes fall shut, shame filling every fracture.

“Rhett, you didn’t…”

Staring down at the floor, I breathe out, labored and not without difficulty. “I did. I thought it was the right thing to do at the time.” My eyes find him automatically. “Actually, that’s a lie. I always knew it was wrong; I just didn’t think I had a choice.

“His death wrecked me, and seeing Dominik stirred it all up again. Finding out about his addiction set everything in stone. I didn’t think I was playing as big of a role in it all as I really was, but seeing him like this…

“I’m at fault. However this happened is because of me. I made him need me—he never had another choice; I wouldn’t let him. And fuck. I really found myself needing it from him, too. It became an obsession, being inside of him, feeling his touch.

“I got lost in it all, and I fucking fell so deep into his endless abyss, there was no way out other than to claw my way through the trenches before I died, too. But now I’m thinking I already did. My corpse is still there, waiting for my spirit to return to it, where I belong.

“Without him, there is no me. Not anymore. Not since he made me need him, too. Love him, too.”

Saying the words out loud, speaking them into existence, solidifies how fucked up everything got. I fed an addict, and in turn, created one out of myself.

He was never the destruction, I was. And together, we fucking imploded.

Jamie steps into my vicinity again, but she keeps her hands to herself this time. “I’m going to go talk to Lawson and see what he’s figured out of this mess. I’ll leave you alone for a while, but please, Rhett. Call me if you need me. Don’t suffer alone.” She leans down until her words enter directly into my ear. “Please don’t blame yourself. You can fix this.”

After the door closes behind her, I find my way back to the bed. My fingers curl under his calf as I push it over, giving myself more room to press against him. The movement makes him stir, and a whimper sounds in the back of his throat. His eyebrows bunch together, creating a deep crease between them. I still, holding my breath in my lungs as I watch him, waiting for him to show me those hunter green irises.

I wait and wait, but they never show. He settles back into the bed, his head rolling to the side, making the tendon in the side bulge. I reach up and weave my fingers into his knotted curls. The pads of my fingers rub against his scalp and gooseflesh creeps down his neck before disappearing under the gown they have him in.

After straightening his head again, I plump the pillow to keep it in place but find myself unable to remove my hands from his head. My upper half hovers above him, and the strain is already radiating into a pulse at the base of my spine. I grit my teeth and welcome the pain with reverence.

Anything I go through is nothing compared to the hell he’s been in for months—because of me.

I can’t even fathom losing your sanity, your free will, your will to fucking live… Fuck, who am I kidding—of course, I can.

I brush his curls off his forehead to press a kiss there, breathing in deeply through my nostrils. The sweat, vomit, urine, and tobacco are easy to decipher, but there’s more to him, something I can’t recognize.

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