Page 102 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

I tip my head back and stare into Alex’s vibrant eyes, lit by swirling lights and lust.

I feel the second his fight dissolves. His bandaged hand palms my lower back as his other goes to my nape, fingers splaying into my hair.

“Blakely…” His tone is urgent, my name a plea.

I wish that were enough.

If I had been born this way, maybe it would be.

“Fight or fuck, huh. Those are my options.” I reach behind my back and latch on to his injured hand, digging my fingers into the bandage.

He recoils in shock, giving me enough time to grab hold of his shoulder and bring my knee up between his legs.

Only Alex catches my leg, slipping his hand beneath my knee and anchoring my body to his.

When his eyes meet mine, he smiles. “So predictable. Maybe you haven’t changed all that much.”

32

ENEMIES-TO-ENEMIES

ALEX

Life is a gift. But not in the way most assume, like it’s this miraculous chance to exist. That’s missing the most obvious point, which isnot knowingwhat came before life or what’s to come after.

We started existing right in the middle—the present all we have to experience.

The absence of memory, that is the true gift.

Memory is filled with pain.

When you realize every day is a chance to be free of that misery, then you can truly start to live.

Otherwise, that debilitating past anchors us there, prevents us from taking leaps. That’s why we can feel lost, wandering pointlessly, uselessly, waiting for something to happen—for life to finallystart.

It already happened. You’rehere. That was your start.

When Grayson let me walk out of the condemned apartment, in essence, I was given a second start.

Not because he spared my life. Or because I have some new lease on my existence.

That fleeting bullshit doesn’t impact me or my choices, which were already so ingrained with the woman I’m obsessed with. Because of her, I already shed that layer of guilt; my only misery weighing on me is the absence of her.

Even when the prolific Angel of Maine was holding the rods to my temples with the threat of cooking my brain, all I could think about was Blakely.

How we don’t yet know how the changes will affect her long-term. How I need to be there for her, to help her adjust, to grow and evolve.

How she needs me to protect her.

A pure moment of clarity to sweep away any fears and doubts and spotlight my whole reason for existing.

Her.

She’s more than just the answer to my question—she’s my purpose.

Grayson had already taken away one woman from my life; I would be damned if I allowed him to take another.

The thought of damning my soul brings a slow, mocking curl to my lips. If there is such a realm as hell, then the devil is already welcoming me with open arms.

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