Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Drake knew my history with Damien, and he’d always told me if he ever found out that Damien was bothering me again, he’d make Damien disappear.
The thought of Damien dying even if I didn’t—couldn’t—want to be with him, made me sick to my stomach.
“What do you want?” I quietly asked as I turned my back to Drake.
“You know what I want, darlin’,” Damien told me. “You’ve always known me like the back of your hand.” I swallowed thickly. “I’m out, baby girl, and I want you back where you belong—with me."
I hated that my heart pounded furiously at his words—hated that I wanted to run to wherever he was all while I knew it would absolutely destroy me to be his again.
“No,” I snapped angrily, desperately trying to hold back all of the emotions swirling inside of me. “Get your head out of your ass, Damien, because you and I are history.”
I hung up the phone and only then noticed the feeling of someone standing right behind me. I tensed, knowing Drake had heard whom I was talking to. “Hayles, I’m only asking you this once,” Drake said quietly from behind me, his voice coming across so sharp he could cut steel. “Was that Damien?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, not answering him. Drake knew it was, and there was no point in me trying to deny it.
“Who initiated the contact?” Drake demanded angrily. When I didn’t answer, Drake gripped my arm and spun me around to face him. I had expected it, so I didn’t stumble. “Who initiated the fucking contact, Hayley?” he snarled, using my real name, not my nickname.
“He called me,” I quietly informed Drake.
“What did he want, Hayles?”
I swallowed hard. “Me,” I told him softly. Just saying it out loud made my blood pound in my veins all while my mind screamed at me that it was wrong to feel like this for Damien.
I didn’t even understand how he was out. He wasn’t supposed to be out for a few more years.
Drake gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Over my dead fucking body will that man ever even come near you,” Drake swore. “He almost ruined you, Hayles. You were a shell of a person when I met you.”
My eyes welled with tears, thinking of Damien and my time with him. God, I wanted him, but he and I were so damn toxic together, and I knew that he would only ruin me again.
“He gets to me,” I weakly admitted to Drake, a tear slipping down my cheek. “I hate that he can, but he still draws me in, and I know that no matter how much I fight against him, I’ll succumb to him eventually,” I told him honestly.
Because I would. Damien had rescued me, taken me in. He had loved me in his own, twisted, fucked-up way even though it ripped me the fuck apart to be loved by him.
Drake pulled me into his strong arms, running his hands up and down my back. But I didn’t want his touch. I wanted someone else’s. “Not while I’m around, Hayles. Damien doesn’t fuck with what’s mine.”
I jerked my head up to look at him, my eyes wide with shock and horror. “I am not your girl,” I snapped up at Drake as I tried to push back from him.
Drake smirked down at me—the same devilish smirk that had once made me want him even while he had been head over heels for my best friend. But now that Damien was popping back up, the thought of being with anyone else turned my stomach.
“You are now,” he told me.
Just to prove his point, he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and pulled my lips up to his. I froze under his lips, my eyes wide with shock.
I didn’t want this. This was wrong. He had belonged to Lacie.
How could he kiss me when he had supposedly been so in love with her?
“Drake,” someone called, forcing Drake back from me.
I shoved myself back from Drake, my breathing erratic as I stared at him in shock, trying to hide the disgust rolling through my stomach.
I felt cheap—used. And I hated that I felt like I was betraying Damien by that kiss even being forced upon me.
“What?” Drake demanded as he looked over at his brother.
“Tyrone is here,” Kalin informed him.
Drake clenched his jaw and nodded at Kalin. Kalin walked back into the house, and Drake took a step back from me, a smirk twisting his lips. My cheeks burned in humiliation and chills danced across my body.
I wanted away from him.
Drake shot me a wink before he turned on his heel and strode into the house.
I blew out a harsh breath as I grabbed my towel, wrapping it around my body.
I was a fucked-up mess.