I’m breathing hard. She’s breathing harder.
I realize I’m crushing her, so I pull up slowly, slide out, and just stand there.
Staring. Vision glazed, flickering with white lights.
I wait for my brain to click back on. Wait for the room to stop spinning.
Weakly, she pushes up from the bed and turns to look at me as I haul my pants up my legs and flick the zipper. I scrub a hand down my sweat-slick face. Try to get a handle on my oxygen. My thoughts. The present moment.
And I see it.
That’s when reality comes crashing back like a sledgehammer.
I bite down on my tongue so hard, I’m close to chewing it right off.
I won’t look at her. I can’t.
I do.
Every muscle goes stiff like a goat playing dead.
Her hair is in disarray, mauled by my hands. Mascara is smudged under her eyes.
There’s a bite mark on her neck, bruises already blooming on her hips and thighs, red handprints all over her body.
She looks wrecked. Destroyed.
By me.
Holy shit.
I did that.
I blacked out, went somewhere else, and became the one person I swore I’d never become—
Him.
Chapter 52Annalise
I don’t know why he’s looking at me like this.
All I know is that I’m staring into the eyes of a man who looks like he’s battling the five stages of grief all in one blink.
I scoot forward, reaching for my shorts and dragging them up my legs. I’m shaking, confused, wondering what to say to wipe that glaze from his eyes.
He staggers backward before I can speak. “What…” His voice cracks, fades. Small and broken. “What have I done?”
I stare at him, speechless.
That was good. Amazing, even. I like it when it’s all teeth and scratches, hard thrusts and throat-scraping moans. I don’t want him to hold back with me.
“I don’t mind it rough. That was—”
“No.” He’s still shaking his head, still moving away from me. “That wasn’trough, Annalise. That was fucking unacceptable.”
“Chase, no…”
His face contorts with grief. “Look at what I did to you.”
