Crew was smiling at me. His cheeks were pulled up, and his crooked, jagged, absolutelyperfectteeth were on full show as he looked at me.
Best of all, his eyes were clear of any storm as he pressed a chaste kiss to my lips and said two words with more happiness than I’d ever heard from him.
“Thank you.”
We’d becomeinsatiable since I stayed the night at Price’s house. It was embarrassing, really. We could be compared to the horniest of teenagers on a good day and debauched whores on a bad one. Which was quite hilarious to me, given what I’d done for the last eight years of my life.
Before I knew it, almost an entire month had passed. Two since I began working at The Arch, which was a mindfuck by itself. I hadn’t lasted this long at a job before, and I was finding myself liking the people there.
Layla was a bit of a bitch, Tobias was still awkward and aloof, but Callum was pretty cool. We talked a lot out back by the wall, hidden from any cameras. He’d smoke while I had a silent disco, and all would be well. I talked to a few of the servers, but it was mostly in passing.
There was Jackson, too, though he was also tight-lipped. I had gotten used to Brandt and he was a bit more tolerable since he’d gotten off Tobias’s ass. He wasn’t walking around yelling at the poor kid all day anymore, thanks to Price’s lessons.
Working at The Arch was easy. Being around Price all day was a bit harder since I wanted to jump his bones every time I saw him, but I made it through. Whenever we got the chance, we’d spend the night together. It was usually at his house out of respect for Willow.
Willow was a lot better with Price now that he’d come around more often, and she understood our situation. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean she completely stayed out of our business. Any chance she got, she let me know that Price and I should be dating, not fuck buddies.
She said I’d been happier since I’d started seeing him. She said I smiled more and laughed more, and that every day she saw my skin without bruises was a day she rejoiced.
I was aware of that. Very aware. In fact, the idea had crossed my mind only a thousand times.
But it wasn’t in the cards for someone like me. We were on a timeline, Price and I. In a little more than four months, we’d split ways, and I’d go back to punishing myself the way I deserved. I’d do the one thing I knew I couldn’t possibly fuck up, with the little voice in my head to guide me.
Willow didn’t know that beneath my smiles, tucked neatly under my happiness, was a steady storm waiting to wreak havoc.
Black, murky water waded up to my chin. I was so close to drowning that I was flailing. Helplessly trying to find something to hold onto, something to use to climb out of the never-ending ocean I’d fallen into.
As the days passed, I tried to remember Mom’s voice. The way her pitch would catch on a particularly high note in her rendition of her favorite song, or the way she’d belt the chorus like it was her own concert. I’d think back on the echo of her stomach, the smell of the Great Value nail polish remover she’d bought from the old, shady store down the road.
I saw the red hue of her nail polish everywhere I went. When I was home, I’d take the remaining bottle I had from my hidden box of memories. I’d hold it to my chest, desperately trying to calm my mind.
Nothing was working.
I hadn’t punished myself since before my agreement began with Price, and my skin was begging for it. My mind was screaming for it.
My time with Price had been amazing. Earth-shattering, even. Deep down, though, I knew what it meant. It meant I had lost control, and I desperately needed to reel it back in before something bad happened.
Something like giving in to happiness I didn’t deserve.
My shift at The Arch ended an hour and a half ago. Willow wasn’t home, deciding to stay with her friend Carly for the night, giving me the green light to invite Price over if I wanted.
Usually, that idea would appeal to me. Instead, when Price offered to spend a night together, I declined. Something I hadn’t done yet.
Being the caring man that he is, he asked follow-up questions, including if Willow was home. I’d lied and said yes, to which he thenoffered to stay at his place. When I still said no, he’d asked if I was feeling sick.
Price couldn’t possibly understand how there wasn’t an easy way to explain the kind of sick I was. I didn’t have a fever, yet it felt like my body was going up in flames. I didn’t have a cough, though there was a rawness in my throat as the screams from my soul tried to make it past my lips. I wasn’t nauseous from a stomach bug, but from the twisting and turning in my gut as time moved further and further.
I was tired. A bone-deep exhaustion that wouldn’t go away no matter how long I slept, how often Price and I fucked, or how many coffees I drank during the day just to look alive.
Ten years of incurable, unbanishable demons held me by their claws day in and day out. They were bloodthirsty, screeching directly into my eardrum todo something about it.
Gain back your control.
Bleed for your mistakes.
You need it.
You need it.
