Page 119 of Beneath the Hood

Some girl.

Giving him a thin grin, I stand up, brushing the wrinkles out of my clothes. “With all due respect, Mr. Donahue, your daughter is far fromsome girl. Maybe you should realize that before it’s too late.”

My heart pumps cyanide, poisoning my bloodstream. “And just for the record, I would have given upeverythingfor her.”

His face screws up.

“Thank you, truly, for the opportunity. But I quit.”

He’s silent, a mask of discontent across his face. Shaking my head, I turn to go. It’s not until my hand touches the doorknob that he speaks.

“Wait.” His voice is strained.

I pause.

“Tell me...” He swallows. “Tell me what to do to help her. I want—” He closes his eyes. “I don’t know what to do.”

Emotion clogs my throat, but I bite it down, realizing that after this moment, Blakely Donahue is no longer my problem.

“She needs help. Help that neither of us can give her.”

“Jax,please,give me more than that. I just… she won’t talk to me, she’ll never let me in.”

The venom of heartbreak in my veins wars with the love that still flows freely. I blow out a breath. “She has panic attacks. Bad ones. And she struggles with food.”

He closes his eyes, a look of defeat dragging down his face. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Choking back the tears, my tongue runs over my teeth as I nod.

And then I’m out the door, and I know exactly where I’m headed.

Home.

52

Blakely

I’ve always thought of myself as weak. A pathetic shell of a person who breaks apart and shatters at the first sign of distress. My emotions are wild, frequently revolting against the box I keep them in, leaping out like a caged tiger, its razor teeth snapping as it shreds everything in its path.

Standing next to DJ Andelo and looking into the camera, hoping Jackson was watching while I spewed the biggest lies I’ll ever tell...

That was the strongest I’ve ever had to be. The biggest test of my control.

But where there’s a play of strength, there’s the comedown after the show.

And when I go home and find the rest of the leftover junk food stacked neatly in the cabinet, my inner demons jump in glee, breaking free of their shackles until I’ve consumed every last bite. Thousands of calories in under twenty minutes. And even though I promised myself it wouldn’t happen again, I race up the stairs and force it all back up, the sharp edges of control slotting back into place with every single heave.

Just like the time before.

So, no. I’m not strong.

I’m still just a fraud.

I lay on the floor next to the toilet, allowing the heated marble to warm my chilled skin, hoping that maybe the warmth will shock some feeling back into my body—make me able to experience something other than this bone-deep ache.

Forcing Jackson out of my life was the right choice. But I didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. Like there’s this giant, rotting wound in the middle of my body, sucking up everything in sight until nothing is left.

Maybe if I lay here long enough, it will suck me up too and I’ll cease to exist.

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