Page 369 of Coal Hearts

What was the point in talking to her when she flatly refused to see what I wanted? Why should I run the risk of allowing the heartsick idiot inside me to resurrect when she didn’t want a single scrap of my affection?

Fuck it.

I’d gone to war tonight.

I’d murdered in her name.

And somehow, with that stupid act of goodness, she stripped me of my newfound happiness.

Broke my blissful sanctuary.

And ensured the acerbity of nausea tainted every swallow of my beer.

I’d been free of that curse.

Free of feeling.

I wasn’t equipped to go back there.

Wasn’t strong enough to survive craving again. Longing again. Not after a lifetime of begging someone, anyone, to see me, want me, love me.

Was that so much to ask?

Was I that unlovable that even the girl I’d killed for wanted nothing to fucking do with me?

Fuck!

My hand curled around the beer bottle.

My insides turned glacial.

No more.

I’d tried. I really had.

I’d hoped. Against all odds.

And now I had to face the facts...

She would always hate me.

I would never be able to change her mind.

If I had to turn my back on wanting her heart and soul to protect my sanity, then so be it.

I’d settle for her body and her fear.

Screw affection.

Fuck connection.

She wanted to be my slave?

Well then...

She just got her wish.

Chapter Fifteen