Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Unless you want Micah on your ass, you will walk away,” Nina warned.
He didn’t budge, but his grin grew bigger. “Micah’s busy fucking Dylan,” he replied. Then, he leaned closer to me. “Tell me, sweetheart, what’s your name?”
I’d never been hit in the chest, but I imagined that the current sensation that slammed into me at his words was what it would feel like. My nails bit into my thigh as I squeezed, trying to control the raw emotion creeping through me.
I wasn’t enough. I was never enough. I would never be enough. No one wanted me. I was nothing more than a pawn to the only guy who I’d thought wanted me. How much more rejection could I take before I cracked completely?
“PINCH!”
Micah’s shout caused me to jump, startled. The room quieted, and the guy in front of me paled as he began moving back from me, his eyes widening. The sting from my nails breaking my skin didn’t concern me. It was a relief in a way. The pain taking away from the reality of how unwanted I was. Reminding me of how I had once used that like a drug. I’d forgotten how it felt, how it numbed the truth.
“Don’t look at her again.” Micah’s voice was threatening. “Don’t talk to her. Don’t breathe her fucking air.”
“About time you got down here,” Goldie said to Micah with a scowl on her face.
Micah was beside me, his body close enough that his arm brushed against my back. “You okay?” he asked, leaning down toward me.
One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.
“Dolly?” His voice sounded concerned.
I had to respond.
One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.
I managed to nod my head. The guy he’d called Pinch muttered an apology in my general direction, then headed to the other side of the room.
Micah’s fingers wrapped around my upper arm. “Come with me.” His words didn’t leave anything up for discussion.
He was gently pulling me from my seat. I could either fight him or stand up. Not wanting to draw more attention to myself, I did as told, although I hoped he intended to take me to a room and leave me. Talking to him after what had happened at the apartment earlier would be more humiliation dropped on top of what I was already suffering.
I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. I kept my gaze down, not enjoying being the center of attention. I was unfamiliar with it, and I was finding I didn’t care for it at all. Micah wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me out of there, through the red door. Once we were in the dark hallway and away from prying eyes, I moved away, shrugging him off me.
One hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two, one hundred twenty-two.
“I prefer you not touch me,” I said, walking away from him. Unsure where it was I should be going.
“We both know that’s not true, Tink,” he said behind me.
I stopped and inhaled a deep breath. I wouldn’t allow this to break me. I was stronger than that. I had to be. I’d lived through worse.
“Just take me to a room and drop me off. I want to be alone and get through this hell so that I can go back home,” I replied.
Micah walked past me and toward the stairs. “Fine,” was all he said.
I fell into step behind him and tried to tamp down all the anger, hurt, and mix of several emotions churning in my chest. I should add hate to that list. I hated that he could make me feel like this. That I cared what he thought of me. I hated that I wanted his approval. And I hated that he’d pushed me to self-harm. It had been years since I’d injured myself on purpose. To deal with my inner turmoil. I’d been to therapy for it. I had overcome it. Yet Micah had sent me back to it with little work on his part at all.
We reached the top, and he turned right, but he didn’t stop at the door to the room I had been left in the last time I was here. Instead, he kept walking until he reached the end of the hallway and opened the last door, then stood back and motioned for me to go inside. I didn’t bother looking at him as I walked by him and into the new room.
I was so focused on showing no reaction to him at all that I didn’t realize the room looked like it belonged to someone. It was clearly lived in. The door slammed, startling me. I spun around to see Micah standing there, watching me.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“My room.”
His room? My eyes scanned the area again, paying more attention to details. The king-size bed didn’t take up even half the space. The room was twice the size, if not three times bigger, than the other room I had seen. A massive flat screen covered the wall across from the bed. A black dresser sat below it. There was a guitar in a stand in the left corner of the room, a pair of jeans thrown over a brown leather chair. And the scent, it was as if I had shoved my face in Micah’s chest.