Page 141 of Leave Me Broken

Janelle sweeps her gaze to a shirtless and sleepy Ash. He rubs his tired eyes and freezes when he sees Janelle.

His arm falls. “Janelle?” He flicks his confused eyes to me, then back to her when I don’t answer. My stomach fills with a million nails for dragging him into this. I could have simply said I did it. I continued to cut even when I said I wouldn’t. Ash would have pretended to be mad and that would have been it.

“Payson cuts herself,” she blurts.

Ash blinks. Then blinks again. By the third blink he’s finally waking up enough to realize what is happening. He looks at my exposed arms and cringes.

“Oh my God . . . she was right . . . y-you cut her.”

That little muscle in his jaw flexes under his beard. “I—” He falls silent, because if there is one thing about Ash Pearson—he never lies.

Janelle steps back like you do when a stranger gets too close. She looks back and forth between us, her eyebrows sinking more each time. “You sick fucking bastard.”

“Janelle!” I gasp, subconsciously moving in front of Ash. He is quick to place a hand on my shoulder.

Seeing my best friend looking at Ash like . . . like he says everyone else will, hits harder than I thought.

“I stood up for you, multiple times.”

“I am forever grateful for you, Janelle.” Ash places his hand over his heart.

“Just shut up. I wasn’t done,” she snaps. “People say terrible things about you—both of you.” Her gaze turns sad. “You know how hard it is to hear terrible things about my best friend constantly? But I let them talk because at least I know the truth. How happy you guys are. I’d always think—at least I know she’s cared for.” She laughs without humor and the sharp pain in my leg intensifies.

The hand on my shoulder tenses and even I shrink because she’s right. She’s supported us from day one. Even before day one when she was chatting me up to Ash before we even met. She’s never once made me feel bad about dating our coach. I’ve never felt judged by Janelle before right now.

“I fucking told Payson to forgive you, for everything you’ve put her through . . . and you fucking cut her?”

“It’s call blo—”

“Seriously? You think I give a shit what you call your kinky games? Because I don’t. You cut her, Ash. You fucking make her bleed. You’ve added to the hideous scars on her arms and I’m meant to understand?”

I rear back into Ash’s chest. “Hideous.” My voice breaks.

Ash wraps a strong arm around my middle and tugs me flush. “They’re not hideous.”

Tears well in her eyes followed by a look of regret. “That’s not what I meant, Pay. You know I don’t think that.” There’s nothing to say because I do know, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.

“After everything with F-Fred.” She hiccups.

“Do not compare me to that monster. Everything I have done to Payson’s body is consensual and wanted.”

“How do you not see the issue here, Ash?! Come on, you cut her. You pick up a knife—” She slaps a hand over her face and cries, not able to even finish the sentence.

Emotion burns the back of my eyes and I reach out for her but she’s quick to move back before I can. “And you cut her.” Her breath shakes. “I thought she was safe with you. All this time I’ve spent worrying about Payson and her mental health, I thought you were helping because I thought she was getting better.” She drops her eyes from Ash to me. “I thought you were getting better.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not! You’ve only moved onto the next bad thing for you. Him. Somehow, you’ve convinced him that this ‘helps’ you. It doesn’t.”

“Jay, you don’t understand. I can’t breathe without these cuts.” I push my arms forward, but she refuses to look. “These save me daily from making worse decisions. Do you know what it’s like to walk around with the thoughts I have in my head? The ones that remind me the guy who promised me he would rape me on my eighteenth birthday is out there, free, after murdering my mom. You have any clue what it’s like to carry the weight knowing he is most likely coming for me next?”

I’m shaking from head to toe as the truth pours from me. “I’m scared,” I admit. “I’m scared all the time, this—” I look down at my hideous arms, she was right about that. Not only from the cuts now but the large bruises from yesterday. “This helps me.”

“Payson,” she whimpers and my nonexistent heart cracks down the middle. “Please, I couldn’t handle it when you were cutting yourself but now you’re letting someone else do it . . . you need help.”

“I’m fine.”

Her lip disappears in her mouth before she turns her head, refusing to look at us anymore. “I can’t watch this.”

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