Page 108 of Breathe Like Hell

“Fine. You enjoy Bug.” Eric gave her one last little pat on the head, then disappeared inside.

I let Bug lick more of the food, enjoying her constant purring and tail flicks. But the thought of my phone lying on the counter next to the register put a pit in my stomach, reminding me of all the sickening knots my relationship with Mason had developed. He was my festering wound, the one I couldn’t stop picking at.

If I was stronger, smarter, more stable, I might’ve been able to detach myself from him. I might’ve been capable of realizing that this wasn’t worth the suffering.

But I was none of those things, and he felt worth every bit of suffering.

I’d never met a person who was such a dark mirror of myself the way Mason was. He reflected all my worst desires back at me, breathing smoke on the glass, concealing everything outside our shared depravity. On the rare occasion I was alone in my bed at night, I still thought about his gun.

Unyielding, cold metal kissing my vulnerable temple.

My whole life trapped under the press of his index finger.

The edge of my entire existence on Earth, sharpened and gleaming, held to my tender skin by Mason’s steady hand. So much fear in my head that it was impossible to think of anything else. Adrenaline pouring into my hot blood, the brutal pumping of my heart, the desperate heave of my lungs.

Or my head shoved below water…

Liquid pushing at my lips, my hair tangling in the waves, my brain going dark with oxygen deprivation. Mason’s face above it all, staring down at me through the choppy surface.

Stop.

I dragged in a deep breath.

I wasn’t sure there was another person on Earth who understood how it felt to drown with Mason Ashborn, who might understand the indelible obsession for it clawing at my soul. I wasn’t sure I even understood it myself.

My eyes cast upwards, towards the gloomy sky, clouds swirling.

People like us shouldn’t be together.

We’ll just keep sinking forever.

I didn’t want to think like this. The logical parts of my brain wanted to shove Mason into a box and keep him there, categorize him as the thing that kept hurting me. But all the stupid parts of my brain kept thinking about how it felt for him to drag me out of the water, to pull me up towards air, to save me.

He was never supposed to consume all of me like this, but he did.

I stood up, brushing my palms off on my jeans, gave Bug a final head scratch, then slipped inside the gas station. I walked through the inside, then out the front to refill the windshield wiper fluid buckets, before relieving Eric of cashier duty. My phone was still sitting there, on the counter, threatening me, tempting me with bad decisions.

Picking it up, I scrolled through my notifications.

Mason

Don’t say that, baby. Please don’t fucking say that

Mason

I can keep you safe. You know I’d never kill you, right? I told you that. Do you not believe me?

Mason

Dakota?

Mason

I want to talk to you. Don’t shut me out

Mason

Baby?