“It’s not much further, baby,” Bentley says softly, his eyes burning into the side of my face for a moment before I nod.
I can’t look at him.
After what he walked in on last night? I haven’t been able to make eye contact with him at all.
It’s one thing when I worry Floyd with my bullshit. I feel horrible when it happens, and I try very hard to make it up to him, but all it takes is a few cookies, an extra long walk, and letting him become attached to my hip for a while in order for him to forgive me. It also helps that Floyd probably doesn’t remember a ton from day to day, head injuries and all that, but still. I can handle making up with my dog after doing something like I did because he’s unconditional in every way.
People, however, are not.
The hurt I saw in Bentley’s eyes last night, it fucking gutted me. It ruined me knowing that I made him feel that way, and I kept waiting for him to change his mind about me and this wholescent matchthing. Even while he kissed me, and when he took care of my cuts. All of them, because my thighs horrified him almost as much as my chest did. Everything Bentley did last night took on an uncharacteristic tone of melancholy, and I can’t help but think it’s because he finally agreed with what I kept saying to him in my delirium.
He really is perfect, and I ruin everything.
We left my loft early this morning, not long after he walked in on a bloodbath, and I’m convinced it’s so he can break up with me or whatever out in the middle of nowhere. Does that make any sense, especially since I don’t think we’re technically dating? No, and I know that, but I’m having a hard time believing that we’re doing what Bentley actually told me.
Which would be riding out to the house and property he bought but still hasn’t closed on.
I have no idea why he’d want to show me something like that, not knowing I’ll just bleed all over that house, too, and the closer we get to the destination, the more I struggle with everything going on in my head.
For the first time in my entire life, I want to explainwhyI do what I do. I want to share my story and talk about how fucked up I am. I’m extremely private by nature, being an asshole tends to do that for me, and the way I can’t stand people only adds to that. But I want to talk to Bentley about all of that.
Maybe it’s because we’re scent matched, maybe it’s because I’ve been alone for such a long time and I actually have the desire to change that. Whatever it is fueling the growing need to explain every fucked up thing to him that he’s witnessed, it’s feeling more urgent with every mile driven, and I’m pretty sureI’m going to explode the second Bentley asks me the question he’s been avoiding asking me ever since we got in his truck.
“Tav…” I clench my jaw and try to bite back the tears as Bentley does exactly what I was afraid of. “Tav, baby, are you?—”
“No,” I snap. “No, Bentley, I am notokay.”
The truck immediately veers to the right, bouncing along the shoulder of the dirt road, kicking up dust and gravel until it comes to a screeching halt. He cuts the engine and unbuckles, turning to face me completely as I try to stare harder out of my window.
“I was actually going to ask if you were hungry, sweetheart, but since you ripped the bandaid off, you should run with it.”
I scowl at nothing, annoyed with the way I just outed myself, but I don’t have the energy to fight anymore. “I’ve been cutting since I was a kid. To make the voices stop, to make the pain go away. It was the only thing that helped, and what makes that even more fucked up is the fact that the pain it was helping was way worse than the actual cutting.” I rub my arms over my tattoos, briefly hesitating before I do what my alpha said and rip the bandaid all the way off.
“Cigarette burns. Stitches. Welts that never healed quite right. Surgical from broken bones I couldn’t stop if I tried. I have scars all over my body and the only ones I created were the ones you actually saw. Mandy Jones, the absolutely stellar omega who gave birth to me, regularly abused me and pimped me out from the time I was four years old, and if she wasn’t doing either of those things, it was because she was so ripped out of her skull on some drug, all she could do was neglect the hell out of me instead.” Swiping at a tear that rolls down my cheek, I try to stay calm despite how angry I’m getting. “The physical and emotional abuse were top tier, but the psychological abuse was next level. I lived in fear every fucking day. Even when I was angry, I was still afraid. Afraid of what she was going to do to me, afraid of thealphas she’d bring home or take me to go see. I was scared we’d run out of food because we had no money, and I… I was afraid I’d never get away from all of that.”
I can feel how sad Bentley is, how angry he’s getting over what I’m telling him, and I can tell that he’s itching to touch me in some way but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Talking about all of this is hard and there’s no telling how I’ll react to physical contact, pure intentions aside.
“She killed my grandmother.” I chuckle morbidly as a few more tears roll down my cheek. “I’m convinced it was on purpose. It’s giving Mandy more credit than she deserves, the woman’s IQ must be a questionable sixteen at best, but I swear she gave my Gran too much insulin and that’s how she really died. She wanted her money, wanted everything Gran left to me, and even if she wasn’t the one to actually kill her, just being her daughter was more than enough to send my grandmother to an early grave.” My fists ball up tight as my chest starts to heave. “That bitch took everything from me. My Gran. My childhood, my innocence. My hopes and dreams. I’m a goddamn headcase because of her and how we lived, scrubbing everything from the walls of my store to the skin on my body until I’m satisfied it’s clean. I have rituals you haven’t seen, compulsions I have to act on because if I don’t, Mandy will come back to destroy the life I’ve tried to build. My paranoia goes well beyond the steel shades and security cameras, I could barely leave my apartment for years because of it,” I say as my voice cracks. “She tookeverything, and the only way I can cope with all of that pain is to inflict more on myself in one way or another.”
I finally turn to face my alpha, finally look Bentley in his pretty blue eyes as I spit through clenched teeth, “Andthatis why I’ll ruin you, ruinus, the same way I ruin everything. You’re too good for me, too perfect, and if you’re as smart as I think youare, you’ll turn this truck around, drop me off at my building, and never see me again.”
For as much as I hope that little speech works and Bentley does just that, I can’t help the way the voice in the back of my head screamsplease don’t leave me, please stay, please love me in spite of who I am, and I have no way of silencing that fucker right now.
CHAPTER 15
Bentley
My heart crampsas I listen to Tav tell me all the reasons why he’s going to break us, but I keep my trap shut. My omega isn’t ready to hear all the reasons why he’s perfect for me, or why I see his broken pieces and they don’t scare me.
My concern is for him, always. The cutting, the voices that tell him he’s not good enough, those are all ways he copes with how unfair life has been to him. We all have different ways of doing things.
Mine is to scorch the earth of those who hurt the people I love, which is exactly what I plan to do. These twins aren’t safe from my wrath, and their obsession with Octavian is really unnerving. I don’t want to tell him what my plans are because his feelings are so volatile, but it will happen.
It’s not my place to tell him everything is going to be alright, not until I can prove it will be, so I drive in silence the rest of the way to our destination.
“We’re here,” I say, putting my truck in park as I gaze around my soon to be home. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I hate that I have to wait so long to move in.”
“What’s the hold up?” Tav asks absently, unbuckling his seatbelt as he looks around. There are fields for miles, and it reminds me of my family’s ranch without all the work involved.
