Page 105 of Bitter Truths

“Yes,” I mutter, relieved when the timer goes off, indicating our time is up.

“Okay,” he says in a long exhalation. “Good. Next time, we’ll explore more deeply.”

Standing, I grab the back of the chair to keep from collapsing and nod, escaping out the door before he can say more.

How the fuck am I going to endure this again? But if I don’t show, will he call my mom? Send me back to the hospital? Do I have any say? The last time I went, it was at the demand of my parents. Can he convince them it’s what I need?

I don’t know, and I feel trapped, ironic considering those are the emotions that I’ve been seeing him to resolve.

∞∞∞

Once home, I step into the shower and scrub and scrub, but it’s not going away. It won’t fucking go away. I’m dirty. I’m a whore. I asked for it.

When will the pain end?

Dr. Marks’ firm questions and implications have brought out my past with a vengeance, and sobbing into the universe, I slam my fists into the wall because it’s not supposed to be like this.

How can I ever go back? But how can I not?

My skin crawls, and I drop to the floor, resisting the urge to scrub more because my skin already hurts.

“Halsey?” Aaron says through the door.

“Yeah?” I rasp.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” I mumble, shutting the water off and stepping from the tub.

When I emerge, he’s standing on the other side, and I smile grimly, wishing I could just be normal, but nothing is fucking normal. Everywhere I turn, I face more of the same bullshit, and not for the first time, I contemplate leaving this school altogether.

I finally have Griffin, and I don’t want to lose him, but how could he possibly stay? I’m dirty. I’ll never be clean, and eventually, he’s going to see. What will I do then?

“I’m going to lie down,” I say, avoiding Aaron’s gaze.

“Okay,” he says softly as I walk away.

Sometime later, I’m lying in bed staring at the wall when Griffin comes in and lies down beside me. He pulls me into his arms, and I lie there stiffly because I know what’s coming for me, and it isn’t him. But slowly, I relax, especially when he runs his hands gently through my hair, the action soothing against the backdrop of my roiling emotions.

Why can’t we just be free? Don’t we deserve this?

With a desperate need to connect and forget, I turn to him and push him onto his back.

His mouth curls in a soft smile when I straddle him, rocking against his dick already hard below me.

With a gasp, he arches into me, but a furrow appears between his brows. “Sweetheart?”

Ignoring the gentle cadence, I pull my shirt over my head and fling it across the room. Maybe I am a sexual deviant because I don’t want his sweet. I like his fucking sour.

“Fuck me,” I say harshly, grabbing my boobs and twisting the nipples.

“Hals,” he groans, bucking into me before grabbing my hands, “What are you . . .? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Fuck me, Griff.”

He stares at me with an intensity that makes me shiver, but instead of turning away, I return his gaze and smirk, rolling my fingers over my nether lips. His eyes drop to my movements, and he growls before tipping me over and spreading my legs wide.

“You want me to eat you, sweet?” he says, and I moan, pumping my hips into the air.

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