Page 58 of Mad As Hell

“I know I blew it at the engagement party—”

“No,” I cut in sharply, balling my hands into fists so tight my nails cut into the flesh of my palms. I welcomed the sting, embraced it as a way to guard my heart. “I meant the night you literally fucked me. I wish I’d never let you in, Ryan. That is my biggest regret. Not the crap at our engagement party, but the night I fell in love with you.” My voice cracked and—dammit—I was crying again.

Ryan made a soft, pained noise and started to reach for me, but froze when I flinched away.

“I’m well aware that we have to continue acting like we’re a happy couple or whatever, but don’t you dare expect me to do it behind closed doors. Consider this just another business arrangement. I’ll play the part you all want in public, but I want everyone to leave me the fuck alone otherwise.” A ragged sob ripped from my chest and I squeezed my eyes shut like that could block out the pain.

My already throbbing head pulsed with every cry, every tear. I covered my face with my hands, feeling utterly hopeless. I was trapped. Completely and totally trapped in this nightmare. I wanted to wake up in that stupid, dirty trailer and see Mom chain-smoking away her morning while watching some shitty soap opera on our stained couch.

I wanted to go back to my high school, with its metal detectors and barred windows. At least there I could be invisible and fade away. I wanted Marge and all of her ridiculous stories as we closed down the library together.

But those days were well and truly gone. My life was over.

Madison Porter really was dead.

CHAPTER 16

MADDIE

It was pretty much an unwritten rule that the majority of the male population would run at the first sign of a crying woman.

Ryan, to his credit, stuck it out for a little while, but when he realized I wasn’t going to let him comfort me and considered he might be the cause of my tears, he reluctantly left me alone.

Props to him for hanging in there for a change.

Once he exited and closed the door to his bedroom, I let myself cry for a few more minutes. At this point, I figured I had earned a solid pity-party.

But sitting here in Ryan’s bed, in his shirt, wouldn’t solve any of my problems. It wouldn’t get me or my mom out from under Gary’s thumb, so I forced myself to get to my feet and go into Ryan’s bathroom.

It was bittersweet, the way it looked like I still belonged there.

The brand of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash I used was still on a shelf in the massive shower stall. My toothbrush and toothpaste were still in the top-right drawer of the vanity along with my hairbrush and a few elastic bands.

When I exited the bathroom, there was still a drawer where Ryan had encouraged me to stash some clothes and underwear. Although, as I picked up a pair of lacy blue panties, I remembered him trying to not-so-discreetly hide them. He’d argued I didn’t need underwear in his room.

I closed the drawer before I could fall too far down memory lane.

How had it been only a couple weeks since we were… us?

I dressed quickly, frowning when my jeans hung too loose on my hips. I swapped them out for a pair of leggings and winced when I saw myself in the mirror.

I looked like Madelaine.

My stomach was flatter, but so was my chest, for that matter. Seriously, why did women always lose weight in their boobs first? My cheeks were more angular, any last traces of baby fat having burned away. And my eyes?

Jesus.

They looked lifeless and utterly hopeless. Just the way hers had, when I’d stopped to look close enough beneath the sparkle of her makeup and glam.

I turned away from the image in disgust as someone knocked at the door.

I frowned, because I kind of doubted Ryan would bother.

“Come in?” I called hesitantly.

The door pushed open, and Ash’s face appeared. His dark complexion contrasted starkly against the white shirt he wore. His green eyes were narrowed and emanating concern.

“Hey. Can I come in?”

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