His hands wander, then squeeze my ass. A shiver travels down my spine as I feel the rigid outline of his cock through his jeans. He swivels his hips into mine, slowly dragging it across my clit, which makes the ache turn into throbbing between my legs.
The passionate kiss lingers on. Both of us are scared of ending it. He sucks on my bottom lip before pulling away, and every inch of my body hurts without his lips on mine.
His gaze is heavy lidded. He cups my face with one hand. “I will always want to touch you,” he says as he squeezes my behind with his other hand. “Kiss you.” He leans in, pressing a hard kiss on my lips before pulling away. “Zara...” he says in a breathy plea. “You are my fucking air... I’m dead without you.”
Twelve
Battle Scars
Zara
Peering out the window,I see the sun’s coming up. I’ve been awake most of the night, frozen in Knox’s bed. I’m my own worst enemy—I get stuck in my mind, dwelling on memories of Misty. It eats me alive to know I still have no answers.
It’s ten years today since Misty’s disappearance, and no matter how busy I am or what I’m doing on her anniversary, I can’t get away from the darkness that torments me. Some days, it feels like yesterday that she was here. Others feel like a lifetime ago.
I pull out my phone and go to Misty’s name in my contacts and press on the message icon. I slide my finger up, looking at the unread texts I’ve written to her over the years. I start typing.
Misty
Hey bestie, Ten years since you’ve been gone, and it pains me to not see you. I miss your jokes and the way you made me laugh all the time. Every day you made me smile, and at the time I didn’t realize how lucky I was to have you in my life. I wish you could see the work I’ve done at the shelter. I think you would be proud. Mom and Dad are happier now that Dad retired. I didn’t think they would ever recover from not having you in their lives, but they are, like the rest of us. We are slowly learning, over the years, how to live our lives without you in it. I think I’m finally coming to the realization that, for whatever reason, you’re not going to return to us. I just wish I knew why. I’m back in Crown Village to help with your vigil, though the hope of you returning is small. Mom’s never given up. It’s days like today that I miss your advice about how to handle Knox. As much as he tore my heart out, I still love him, but after everything, I don’t think I could handle another heartbreak. I’m trying to keep my distance, but so far, I’m failing miserably. Wherever you are, please know that I’ll never forget the friendship we shared, and no matter how much time passes, you’re always in my mind and in my heart.Best friends forever,Zara xxx
Tears stream down my face. I give myself permission on this day to feel everything—the loss, the pain, the darkness but also the light of her memories. Slowly sitting up, I inch to the side of the bed, place my feet on the ground, and tread to my suitcase, where I take out my toiletry bag. I make my way to the door and open it. The slight creak of the door makes me curse. I look back to see Knox still asleep.
I walk into the bathroom, then lock it behind me. I zip open the toiletry bag and pick up the sharp object with my fingers. My throat tightens when I look down at the top of my thigh where Misty’s tattoo is, along with nine neat scars underneath.
Her anniversary is the most painful and intense. The scars are punishment and reprieve. I wish I could find out what happened. I need answers so I can find peace.
My hands move to the silk-like scars on my leg and hover just below them. I rest my foot on the bathtub and lift my pajama shorts. Taking a deep breath, I push the blade into my skin, wincing at the sharp, piercing pain. I drag the blade in line with the other scars and watch the blood trickle down my leg, leaving crimson drops on the floor.
On the most painful day of the year, the cutting helps with the pain in my chest. Tension releases, almost as if the anger and emotional pain are bleeding out of the cut.
Even though the scars heal on the outside, the wounds go so much deeper. Those are the scars that don’t heal, and they never fade. I lean over, grab the large Band-Aid from the bag, and stick it over the cut. I wipe my leg and begin cleaning up.
“Zara!” Knox yells.
I pull my shorts down on my hips to hide what I’ve just done, but it doesn’t hide as much as I would like.
“Zara!”
I zip up the bag, unlock the door, and rush out. “I’m here.”
Reaper and Viper’s heads are poking out of their bedroom doors. Viper smirks when he sees me. Knox's face instantly relaxes, and his shoulders visibly slump as he exhales deeply. He strides toward me.
“I needed the bathroom,” I say quietly to not wake anyone up, though I think Knox just did.
Viper mumbles, “Knox, ya psycho. Go back to bed.” He closes his bedroom door.
Reaper studies Knox and waits. Knox lifts his chin, then Reaper shuts his bedroom door.
Knox’s eyes search mine. Then, like a light switch turned on, he stares at my thigh. His muscles tense and a deep frown curves his lips. He pulls me into his arms, where I sag into him.
Knox tenderly kisses the top of my head and lingers before he pulls away. He lowers himself into a crouch and inspects the bandage. He clears his throat. “Let me know if you need another one,” he says before he stands. There’s no missing the sadness in his voice.
My belly growls loudly in the silence.
His eyes widen as he peers down at my stomach and then back to my face. “Come downstairs. I’ll grab you something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” His gaze sharpens. I put up my hand in a stopping motion. “Please, I can’t eat. I’ll throw it up.”
