“Fuck you,” I spat, turning and putting my clothes on. I was raw from him. From the moment I saw him all he’d done was send me mixed signals and confuse me. “Fuck you and your melancholy, emo attitude. Fuck you with your I hate my life because my mommy didn’t love me enough. Fuck you for thinking that your life is any harder than anyone else’s. JUST. FUCK. YOU.” I knew my words were harsh as I said them. But I didn’t care, not until I turned around and saw Kyler standing there, his hands in fists and a storm of rage brewing in his eyes.
I should have backed down, but I didn’t.
“I’m not scared of you, Kyler Sinclair. I will not wither and die like a flower for you. I get it. You took a naive, poor girl, duped her into caring about you, fucked her and now that the deed is done you’re going to disregard her and move on to the next idiot that crosses your path.” I walked to him, puffing my chest out and making sure my eyes held his as my index finger jabbed him in his chest. “I have to admit, the part about being a virgin was a nice fucking touch. How many times have you used that line?” I asked, turning around, not sure I wanted to know the answer. I was so ready to blast out of there with some sort of dramatic, Oscar-worthy exit, but Kyler grabbed my wrist, immobilizing me instantly.
“You’re the only girl I have ever had sex with.” He said the words so softly that I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. “You can believe anything you want about me, but I will not have you leaving here thinking that I lied about that.”
He let go of my wrist. I should have run out of the room then, but something in those words kept me there, impossibly tethered to him.
“I don’t manipulate people. I sure as fuck wouldn’t do that to have sex with someone,” he said as he sat back on the bed, his hand resting in the evidence of my chastity--ripped away by him.
“Why do you keep pushing me away?”
“Because you fuckin’ scare me.”
Chapter 24
“Moral wounds have this peculiarity - they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart.”― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Kyler
“I scare you?” She was shouting again. I was a little taken back by how forceful the little mouse was when she put her mind to it. I didn’t like that I kept hurting her, but I couldn’t help it. Madison Evans was a ball of contradictions rolled into an irresistible package.
The truth was, she did scare me and that made me angry.
I liked living alone with my anguish and sorrow. It comforted me; it was a blanket that hid me from the rest of the world and allowed me to be who I was. I hated Madison Evans because with her I forgot what my life really was, she...made me happy.
You can never find yourself in happiness; it’s only something that can be discovered in sorrow. Joy shackles us. Tethers us to a Utopian state that does nothing other than force us to live in a state of fake emotion. But pain--pain unleashes us, every last single part of us. Pain is the key that unlocks a forbidden door, a Pandora's Box, and once opened, there is no turning back. It’s entrenched in who we are, it becomes the very fabric of our existence. But when pain is caused by someone that is in our hearts, it becomes a drug, intoxicating and all-consuming until it swallows us whole.
“You make me happy and I don’t know what to do about that.”
“You’re so fucked up, you know that, Kyler? So fucked up. What a moronic thing to say. I scare you because I make you happy? Do you even know how stupid that sounds? And here I thought you were actually intelligent.”
“I didn’t say it made sense. I’m a fucking mess. I’m fucked up, Maddy. You don’t even know the half of it.” I felt like I was slipping. My mind was already a complete shit show. It had been for a very long time, but I’d managed to keep it under control, living day to day, just going through the motions of life, waiting for the day that it would end and I would die. Then Maddy showed up and lit the dark corners of my world. Light that I didn’t know I wanted or needed.
“Then tell me,” she pleaded, walking towards me slowly, as if I was a stray cat that would either sprint and run or attack her. The truth of the matter was she wasn’t wrong. With Maddy, I felt unpredictable. One minute I wanted to shout at her and the next moment I wanted her to lie on my bed, her beautiful hair feathered on my pillow as I kissed every damn inch of her senseless.
“I can’t.”
“Kyler, you can’t keep doing this. You’re giving me whiplash.” She placed her hand on my shoulder, singeing me with her touch, just like she had already branded my heart. Her words hung heavy. I knew I was a complete asshole to her. I knew that I ran hot and cold, but I also knew I didn’t know how to stop it. “I deserve better than what you have given me.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I turned to her, my hands cradling her face, my lips itching to press against hers. I was so cold, and the only
