Chapter 6
When I get to the parking lot, I move like a shadow, eyes darting around, scanning for any sign of paparazzi.
God forbid, but the last thing I want is to be photographed leaving the same motel as Noah. After all, he’s Noah Wood–son of Rowan and Ava Wood. They are a power couple. Royalty ruling this city. Paparazzi are always following them around and they took a keen interest in their eldest son.
Aunt Ava and Uncle Rowan have known me for as long as Noah has. They’ve always loved me–and I love them just as much. I don’t think they’d be angry if something ever happened between Noah and me. They’ve always known how I felt about him when we were younger.
But still… if this ever got out, it would be a disaster.
Not because of them–but because of what it would mean for both me and Noah.
Because as much as we did sleep together, Noah doesn’t feel anything for me. Last night didn’t mean anything to him. He was lonely and just wanted to scratch an itch, and I was available. 1
The last thing I want is for his parents to pressure him into moving on and pushing for him to be with me. I know them and I know that’s what will happen if word of what happened ever gets out. They would think it means something and will try everything to push us together. I can’t have that.
The moment I get to my car, I waste no time. I unlock it and slip inside, locking the doors behind me. The one sensible thing I did yesterday of all the stupid things I let happen was to drive myself here.
My hands tremble slightly as I lean forward, resting my head against the steering wheel. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to breathe, but the air gets stuck in my throat.
All the courage and bravado I had just a few minutes ago crumbles to dust, replaced by a deep cold ache that settles in my chest, heavy and unyielding.
Tears spring up before I can stop them. I blink fast, trying to hold them back, but it’s pointless. A sob breaks loose, then another, until I’m crying in broken gasps, my face hidden against the leather of the wheel. Pain and anger merge inside me in a volatile mix that threatens to drown me.
I slam my palm against it. A scream rips from my lips as pain washes over me. It consumes me as I let it out, as I let it pour out of me in waves. My heart clenches at the onslaught of it and I feel like I can’t breathe.
When I’m finally done, I don’t feel better; I just feel empty inside. Hollow. Like my chest is cracked wide open for vultures to pick on my bleeding heart.
Why didn’t I leave when I had the chance? Why did I stay?
Why did I smoke the joint he gave me, knowing I wasn’t thinking clearly?
So many questions but no answer, because nothing can fix this,
I knew it. Deep down I knew that it was a mistake. That my decision to stay would come back to bite me in the ass, yet I ignored all the warning bells. Every instinct, every red flag screamed at me to leave. But I stayed. I chose to stay. 1
And now here I am, my old wounds now ripped wide open. The past I buried clawing its way back out of the grave I shoved it into.
I had healed, but last night undid everything. All the progress I made. I’m bleeding all over again and it’s all because of him.
I’ve known Noah since I was nine years old. I knew how he felt about me. I knew he despised me. So what possessed me to think that sleeping with him could be anything but a disaster? 1
His words echo over and over in my head like a broken record and every time? It drives the knife deeper into my heart.
Noah is the only one who’s ever had the power to make me bleed, and he’s proven that he still has that power. That he still knows how to ruthlessly wield and use it.
It hurts. His words, his eyes, the way he looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was… a mistake. His assumptions of me. It all hurts, making it feel like needles prickling my soul.
I press a hand to my chest, trying to calm the pain building there. The ache that’s suffocating me… But it’s no use. My breath stutters. My world tilts.
Pain. Guilt. Shame. Panic.
They crash into each other inside me until I’m drowning in it. I try to pull myself up, but I keep falling deeper and deeper into the cold endless darkness. I almost give up and let go when a sound slices through the fog.
My phone ringing.
I dive for it, quickly fishing it out of the glove department and holding it like it’s an anchor.
“Hey, Love… I just saw your missed call p>
Relief crashes into me. Her sweet, warm voice grounds me. Pulls me back from the edge. I let it wash over me, as I use it as a guide back to the present and away from the darkness.
“Lilly,” I murmur brokenly, my voice cracking as once again my tears start falling.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asks quickly, concern sharp in her tone.
“I–I p>
I can’t finish the words. What am I supposed to tell her? That I slept with her cousin? The same one who’s hated me for years? The same one who called me a whore? 1