Page 29 of Bitter Truths

“Not really. Can we go?” I feel high, like I could float away, but on the wings of that is confusion because while I love Griffin for defending me, I’m also icy cold with rage that this is his damn fault to begin with.

Aaron pulls me through the crowd, and I follow blindly, tears pressing at the backs of my eyes. I’m disgusted with Griffin, but more than anything, I’m enraged at the memories I can’t ever push away.

“Halsey? Are you okay?” Aaron’s concerned tone breaks through my haze when we reach the doors and step into the fresh air.

Shaking my head, I lean over the nearest bush and empty my stomach as the world spins around me.

“Halsey?” Aaron says hesitantly, smoothing his hand down my back.

“I’m good. Let’s go,” I mutter, stalking down the sidewalk, only to look back when my neck tingles.

Griffin is staring after me from the front entrance with a blank expression.

Clenching my hand, I turn away because I can’t fucking deal with Griffin when I feel this way, not with the familiar rage crawling through my system. Frankly, I wouldn’t be feeling this way at all if Griffin hadn’t set out to hurt me. It’s his fault, so I am resolved. I will fucking hate him.

∞∞∞

GRIFFIN

“Halsey?” I stumble down the steps and walk toward her.

In the wake of Father’s revelation, I drowned myself in alcohol. Stupid. But when I couldn’t stand staring at the same blank fucking wall for another minute, I succumbed rather than indulge in the rage pounding at my skull.

Finding Halsey here was the balm I was searching for, but before I shared more stupidity, I walked away because I had just enough common fucking sense to know I would regret saying more tomorrow.

But then I spied Will Jameson approaching her with a smarmy smile, and that same rage boiled over. The fucker should never look in her direction. He doesn’t deserve her light. Nope, he deserves eternal fucking darkness.

I don’t regret beating his skull, but I regret her wide eyes when she stared at me like she didn’t recognize me.

This is another layer of the monster I tried to hide, and while I don’t want to scare her away, I can’t outrun who I am. I just hope she can see past the devil inside because I can’t tame him without her.

Regardless, I’ll kill any fucker who hurts her, including Will Jameson. My football dreams be damned. But as I stalk toward her, I ignore the tiny voice that speaks up and says that I’m one of those fuckers.

She stops stiffly on the sidewalk and tips her head to the night sky. Does she see the same stars I do? The fucking treacherous stars we once wished upon, not knowing the end stared us in the eye? At times, I hate those fucking constellations. They mock me, and they sure as shit didn’t guide me anywhere but to hell.

After an extended pause, she turns to me with her lips stretched in a polite smile. “Griffin.”

Searching her eyes, I think maybe I imagined her panic from before, and the clawing ache in my chest eases until the dick she’s standing beside shifts. It’s the same douche I saw her with last year, and my mouth curls up in a sneer.

She’s fucking mine. Love me or hate me, I don’t fucking care, but I will not let her go.

I turn my gaze to him, noting with satisfaction that he shuffles uncomfortably under my hard stare before I turn back to her and growl, “I thought I made myself clear.”

“Oh, about what?” she says tartly, and my dick stands at attention. Fuck, but I need her so badly it’s a visceral pain in my gut, but even as I want to claim her, I’m afraid to show her just how closely she holds my soul in the palm of her hand.

Maybe if I show her how my heart, the one I was clenching in my hand in her paintings, beats only for her? The painting was painfully accurate in that respect, but where she got it wrong is that she has had my heart all this damn time.

“You’re fucking mine, Halsey Moore,” I growl.

“Ha!” she says, and she may be trying to push me away, but I see the need behind her eyes. Her body doesn’t lie, and breathing her in, the sweet lemony scent that makes me hard every time assails my nostrils.

My empty arms ache. I reach out to her before dropping them uselessly, but her blue eyes blaze at me, and I damn myself. Fuck it.

Pulling her into my arms, I groan when her nipples peak against my chest and smile with satisfaction. Maybe I just need to fuck her into submission. Maybe all she needs is a reminder that I’m the dick that makes her come. She’s so fucking hot that I can’t resist rubbing my dick against her stomach.

Her eyes go wide, and I tighten my grip.

I know I haven’t done any of this right, but fuck me, I need, and only she can sate it, but ours is a twisted path, and neither of us knows the true direction. Essentially, we’re both fucked.

---