Page 47 of Inevitable Destruction

After what could be minutes, or even hours, I hear the thumping bass of what must be Jay’s jeep coming down the road. Then it comes into view, slowing to a crawl as he gets closer to my marked location. Twenty feet down the road, he stops, putting the car in park before jumping out.

“Dom! Where the fuck are you?” he shouts, walking further down the road in the opposite direction.

“Over here!” I manage to yell through the burning pain ripping through my extremely dry throat. My eyes squeeze shut as I breathe heavily through my nose. The cold air burns my nostrils as it infiltrates my lungs, and I cough, the sound wet as I wheeze.

Footsteps sound closer, and I pry my eyes open as a blurry Jay maneuvers his way down the slight slope leading down to the ditch. His feet make loud suctioning noises as he plops through the mud. As he comes closer into my line of sight, my eyes adjust, and most of him unblurs, though the edges of his body remain out of focus.

I squint my eyes as I take him in. He’s breathing heavily, and his brown eyes are wide with worry as he stares down at me. The instinct to be annoyed with him about all of the bullshit he’s pulled is there, just under the surface, but the will to exert any of it is being used to keep myself awake.

“Fuck, man. You look like shit. Were you out here all night?”

“What’s it look like?” I quip, glowering at him. He holds up his hands in front of his chest before lowering them to his sides. He stands in front of me, perplexed for about two seconds before his hands grip the bottom of the navy blue sweatshirt he’s wearing. He pulls it over his head and whips it up and down through the air a few times to straighten it back out.

He holds it out to me. “Here, put this on.”

I glance up at the sweatshirt through my lashes. It hangs from his fingers, swaying gently from the light breeze filtering through the early morning air. My quaking body aches for warmth, but I’m numb. I couldn’t fucking move even if I wanted to—and I very much do.

The prospect of living in the middle of a storm seemed like a good idea last night—and when I was high, it was. But now, I just want to get home so I can sleep in my bed and then get high enough to forget any of this happened.

Including Jay staring down at me with a deep, concerning look of pity.

I sigh and glance down at the wet earth between my spread legs. I’ve quite literally become my worst nightmare—someone who now depends on someone else. It doesn’t matter who said person is; it’s just the principle of it all.

“Let me help you.” Jay’s voice sounds closer, and when I lift my head, his face is mere inches from mine. His sweatshirt is slung over his right shoulder as he curls both of his arms under my armpits to help me to my feet.

With his strength aiding me, I’m able to lift myself off the ground, albeit unsteadily. When my feet sink into the mud below, needle-prick-like pain radiates through my arches, to my heels, and up my calves. I wobble when my knees threaten to give out on me, and Jay steadies me with a palm to my chest.

“C’mon, dude. Let’s get you home. You’re a fucking mess.”

I snort and wheeze out, “That’s a bit of an understatement.” We walk slowly through the mud and grass in the deepest part of the ditch, and when his car comes into view on our left, he tightens his grip on me as we start our trek up the slight incline.

I tighten my own hold on the back of his T-shirt when I feel my feet slipping as we reach the gravelly shoulder of the road. “I got you, man,” he says with a pat to my chest, but those three words have my body locking up on instinct. The deeply intense impact of them hit me with indescribable force.

A choking noise comes from some open crevice of my body. The sound is retched, truly horrific. But it soon intensifies, and along with it, tears trailing down my face in a path of burning shame.

I fucking had her. In my arms every day and every night. She was my anchor, my goddamn purpose. And now I’m living without her, all because I wasn’t any of that for her. I never could have been because she already had her own anchor, her own purpose. And I wasn’t a part of any of it.

She used me to heal herself, and while she did that, she sucked every fucking last ounce of my will to live from me—to keep for herself.

But the worst part of meeting Essa Monroe? I would do it again a hundred times over. How fucking pathetic is that? She was the sick, broken girl who changed my life.

That change was for the worse, but just being with her for that short amount of time was worth it. I may have become this fragile shell of who I used to be, but I always liked myself this way. It’s easier.

I’m better off like this, so I guess I have Essa to thank. She brought me back to myself.

“Dom? Can you even hear me?”

My eyelids flutter, flashes of light coming in and out in a blur. My eyes roll into the back of my head before looking forward. My back is pressed against the cold metal of Jay’s jeep. Jay’s hands are wrapped around my biceps as he holds me upright. He shakes me back and forth gently, trying to gain my focus.

“Dominik!” His shout startles me, and I drag my gaze to his face that is level with mine. His straight, blonde hair is damp and plastered haphazardly to his forehead. His brown eyes are squinted as he stares at me, dark brows tugging down, only adding to the intensity of his stare.

My eyes follow the path of his straight nose down to his pronounced Cupid’s bow, and finally to his lips. They glisten from moisture, and when Jay darts his tongue out to wet his lips once more, my heart thuds heavily in my chest, the force of it radiating down my torso to my groin.

Jay’s got me. He’s got me. Just like I had Essa…

I lean forward, my breath coming out in short, labored pants. I’m so close to Jay, I can feel my own breath retracting back and bouncing back in my face. I’m flushed in radiant warmth as my cold-numb lips brush against his.

A large breath is sucked in from my nose, expanding my chest, when Jay molds his lips to mine and increases the pressure. My bicep suddenly feels cold when he removes his hand, only to place it on the back of my head. Now that he’s controlling me, he deepens the kiss and angles his head until our noses are no longer bumping together.

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