Page 10 of Relentless

Do not give in.

Fight.

I startle when the bathroom door is suddenly ripped open.

Reid takes two steps into my room before he pauses.

“You okay, man?” he asks, his brows pinching together, leaving a deep crevice between them. The demanding tone in his voice from before is gone, in its place a softer one I despise. I’ve only ever heard him use it on me, and it takes me back to a time I never want to remember.

Pushing to my feet, I follow his lead and drag my tank off, throwing it in the direction of the laundry basket.

I march toward the bathroom more than ready to be alone, or at least I try to.

Just before I get to the door, Reid’s hand darts out and clamps around my shoulder.

“JD?” he says, giving me little choice but to look at him.

His eyes narrow at whatever he sees swirling in the depths of mine.

“She’s okay,” he assures me. “Doc said—”

“I fucking know what Doc said. I’m not fucking deaf,” I snap, twisting from his hold.

“I know but—”

“I’m fine,” I lie, continuing toward the safety of the bathroom.

Truth is, my fucking skin is itching like a million ants are racing over it. My need to relieve it is stronger than it’s been in years.

“Fuck,” I hiss, as I kick the door closed and flip the lock.

It won’t stop him if he suspects I’m losing the very thin grasp I have on my sanity, but it makes me feel better about it.

Shoving my sweats down, I step into the already wet shower and turn it on.

I’m immediately hit with warm water, but I don’t need warm. That’s too nice. That won’t kill the ants.

Twisting the dial, I turn it up as high as it’ll go, letting the scorching water rain down on my head and shoulders.

My skin burns, slowing down the ants and my need to scratch my own skin from my body.

Resting my palms on the tiled wall, I hang my head and close my eyes. Instantly, the image of Alana’s limp body hanging from Reid’s arms fills my head.

I’ve been scared a time or two in my life, but it’s been a long time since I felt it as keenly as last night. And it wasn’t just because she could barely breathe. It was the realization of just how deep she’s wormed her way into my heart.

She was meant to be a bit of fun. A playmate to help pass the time. She sure was funner than any of the other motherfuckers downstairs.

But I wasn’t meant to care.

Watching her fighting for her life wasn’t meant to rip my own heart out in the process. And that’s only the beginning of what happened down in the kitchen. The events after that and the level of hate she’s going to feel toward us because of it is enough to send me spiraling down into a bottomless pit I never want to visit again.

I stand there fighting with my old lingering demons until the water runs cold. And the second the burning stops, I turn the shower off and step out.

With a towel around my waist, I step up to the vanity and reach out, wiping the steam from the mirror.

A hazy version of myself stares back and I instantly understand why Reid looked so concerned.

My usually bright blue eyes are dark and stormy. There’s something dangerous swirling within their depths. Something none of us need.

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