Page 45 of A Hurt So Good

Warren

I haven’t slept in days, and it’s beginning to wear on me. I fucked off at work most of the night because I couldn’t concentrate. I went by Denz’s house and checked on Sasha, but she was having a sleepover with her friends. I thought about crashing there for the night, but I found myself driving around instead. That did me no fucking good.

Now I’m at my dad’s, sitting out by the ocean smoking a cigarette. When I was younger, my dad always liked to bring us boys out here to the water. He would watch us play for hours in the ocean. I once asked him why, and he said he wanted nothing but good memories with his boys.

And for the most part, that’s all we have with him. Good memories. My dad did his best when we were younger, threatening to take our moms to court and take us away, yet he never did because we would throw such a fit. Back then, it made sense to stay with our moms, even though they were worthless.

Snuffing out my cigarette, I shove myself up and brush off as I walk back toward the house. I glance up at her balcony, noticing her door is open. I’m sure she’s letting the breeze filter in.

When I reach the house, I grab onto the trellis and pull myself up, climbing until I reach her balcony. I grab the rail and throw my legs over, landing near the chair. I look in and see her sound asleep in her bed. After the shit at Denz’s house, we thought she could use a little break from us.

I grab the chair and carry it closer to the door, sitting it down quietly so I don’t wake her. Then I drop down into it and do whatI’ve done for a while now. I watch her sleep. She never knows I’m here, and maybe that’s for the best, although the thought of fucking her sleeping body has come to mind. How would she feel waking up to me inside of her? Would she be scared?

I just sit here and think. About anything and nothing all at the same time, and before I know it, the fucking sun is coming up. I should leave, I should walk away, but I don’t want to.

Arya rolls over, her face coming into view. Slowly her eyes open and then widen before softening once more when she sees it’s me. At first, she doesn’t speak. We sit, staring at each other like we’re trying to figure the other one out. Then she moves and pulls the blankets back, scooting over to make room in her bed. I don’t need to be told she wants me there. I stand, reaching over my shoulder and pulling my shirt off, tossing it to the side before kicking my shoes off. I climb into the bed facing the door when she covers me and wraps her arms around me.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Since the other day,” I tell her.

“How long have you been sitting there?” she asks softly.

“Since last night.”

“You can sleep here, War,” she whispers as her hand slides up and down my chest. How does she expect me to sleep when she’s touching me like that? How could I even try?

“We all have secrets, don’t we, Arya.” She sighs softly behind me.

“I guess we do.”

“Will you tell me one if I tell you one?” She doesn’t speak at first, but then she sighs she starts talking.

“My dad tried to kill me. That’s why I didn’t want you to take my shirt off. That’s why I wear a shirt to go swimming,” she whispers. Instantly, I tense, and I’m about to storm out of bed, but Arya tightens her grip on me and keeps me in place.

“There are scars?”

“Yeah. A lot of them. Some … I did to myself.” Fuck. Fuck! I want to turn to look at her, but I know she needs this moment alone even though I’m right here. Anger and fury war in my insides. The demon wants to be set free and is rattling his cage, but I take deep breaths and calm myself down because right now, Arya needs this.

“I killed someone when I was seventeen. No one knows about it. It was my first kill.”

“Who was it?”

“There was this girl who lived in Denz’s neighborhood. She was sick. She was dying anyway,” I confess and feel her arm tense around me, but I keep going. “Harlon loved her. That was his first love. They were good together, but … she was dying. I went over there one night looking for Harlon, but he wasn’t there. She asked me to come in and talk, and so I did.”

“What did she say?”

“That she hated her life. That … it hurt so bad she couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted a way out. A way to end things,” I whisper.

“And you helped her,” she whispers.

“I … fuck. I put the pillow over her face. She didn’t scream, she didn’t fight. I sat there holding the fucking pillow over her face because I knew when I pulled it away, she’d be gone.”

“You helped her, War.”

“I killed her. Har came a few minutes later after I resettled her on the pillow. He lost it. He completely lost it. I’m not one for keeping secrets from the guys, but that one? That one is mine. I can’t look my brother in the eye and tell him I killed the girl he loved.”

“War, she was sick. She wasn’t going to make it anyway. What you did, you made her dying wish come true.”

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