Page 100 of Reckless at Westbrook High

My heart aches in my chest with the need to make him forgive me and I open my mouth to try, but then he cocks his head and steps closer to me, pulling his fist back to hit me square in the nose.

And then I’m out cold.

Again.

* * *

“Fuck, Wren, will you just listen to me?” I plead, struggling against his grip on my arm while he drags me down the hall. “Wren.”

He continues to ignore me and tosses me through the door of the room Freya sleeps in, walking me over to the nightstand to take out a bottle of aspirin. He shoves the pills at my chest and steals my phone from the pocket of my jeans, moving to leave without a single word or a second fucking glance.

“Wren, please just–”

He slams the door behind him and I jump, helplessly running my hands through my hair when I hear the sound of the lock a second later.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Wren

It feels different this time.

Hurts more.

This lying motherfucker didn’t just break my heart, he fucking stole it. Dug his fingers into my chest and ripped it right out of its cage, leaving nothing but a black hole and an ache so real it hurts to breathe.

I promised myself I’d never allow this to happen to me again, stupidly thought I could get by just fine without feelings of any kind because it’s not worth the fucking pain, but then he came along and ruined everything.

He ruined me.

Just like I knew he would.

My eyes burn with a mixture of emotions I can’t seem to control and I lean my elbows on my knees, mindlessly running my thumb over the ink on my wrist while I wait for him to wake up.

I didn’t get any sleep last night, but it seems he didn’t have that problem.

Fuck, I hate him.

My jaw ticks at the thought and I wait another few minutes, but then fear gets the better of me and I stand from my seat in the corner, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed beside him. He’s still fully clothed, lying on top of the blanket wearing jeans and a white t-shirt covered in blood, and I can’t help the way my chest tightens with guilt when I get a look at the black eye I gave him on the side of the road last night. I run my hand over his neck and press two fingers to the vein there, only releasing the breath I was holding when I feel the steady pulse of his heart beating.

At least he still has one.

Just as I think it, a rough groan leaves his throat and he covers my hand with his, cracking his eyes open to check his surroundings. He gets one look at me and blinks, and I don’t miss the way his face falls when he catches the look on mine.

“Wren–”

“What was I to you?”

He frowns at that, leaning up on his elbows to bounce his eyes between mine. “What?”

“Were you just..” I swallow, hating the pathetic crack in my voice when I ask him. “Were you just using me to get to Callie?”

“Fuck, baby, no,” he chokes out, sitting up to take my face in his hands. “How can you even ask me that? Don’t you know how much you mean to me?”

“Then why did you–” My voice cracks again and I shut my mouth, dropping my eyes to the sheet before he sees something I don’t want him to.

“Why did I what?”

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