Fuck.
I stood with my back to her door and tried to reel the evening in. My hands fisted in my hair, and a scream locked in my throat.
I couldn’t breathe.
Because I didn’t fucking know how.
Being in Aly’s presence had proven that.
How had I allowed this to completely spin out of control?
Aly.
Damn it. Motherfucking trigger.
She was slowly driving me mad. Insane. Constantly pushing me up against a wall there was no chance of breaking through, needling her way into my thoughts and mind, invading places I couldn’t allow her to go.
Still she managed to sink her fingers under my skin.
Urges slammed me harder than they had in years.
Addiction was a bitch like that. No matter how many years passed, it never let me forget the temporary escape it gave. The moment’s euphoria. The only place where I could forget. Well, maybe not forget. It just numbed me to the place that I couldn’t feel.
Crossing the room, I fumbled out of my sleep pants and pulled on the jeans I’d worn earlier. I shoved my feet in my boots, grabbed my keys from the coffee table, and bounded down the stairs. I turned my bike over, the loud roar of the engine coming to life. Power vibrated under my hands and feet. I kicked it free of its stand, rolled back, put it into gear. Slowly, I wound around the complex and slipped out one of the side gates.
As soon as I hit the street, I flew. Heat blasted my face. Lashes of hot, angry air tore at my shirt and whipped through my hair. I had no idea where I was going, no destination.
Motherfucking story of my life.
But I couldn’t stay there with her sweet eyes and tender hands. Couldn’t allow myself to slip into her false comfort, to settle into her warmth.
God, I wanted it.
Craved it.
Craved her.
She was doing things to me I couldn’t allow. Fuck, I’d even let her touch me, her fingers like fire as they sketched along the lines that marked my skin with my sins. She’d traced those lines as if she’d drawn them in the pages of one of her books. I’d opened my mouth and let things pour free that I’d never once uttered out loud before.
I let her take a little of what I wasn’t willing to give.
I pinned the throttle as far as it would go. The street blurred below me, and I shook with the speed, shook with the anger.
Stupid.
She admitted that she’d thought about me. Missed me.
On some level, I’d missed her, too. Too much to admit.
But it was on a level that no longer truly existed, just a hollowed-out place that echoed the joy I once had and what might have been. The fucked-up thing was she inhabited that space like she was made for it.
There was no need denying it. I cared about her. But I couldn’t care about her the way she’d want me to. Couldn’t love her the way she deserved to be.
I refused to ever love anyone again.
I was done destroying the things that were important to me. It hurt too much when they were gone.
Resentful laughter tumbled from my twisted mouth when I noticed where I’d ended up.
Of course. Directly across from the old neighborhood.
Shocking.
I was drawn here just as strongly as I’d been drawn back to Phoenix. Just an empty ache that called to me. Taunted me. I came to a rolling standstill, easing my bike off the side of the street just opposite to the spot that had been my everything and where I’d tried to end it all.
The field used to be open. There had only been a wooden fence that separated it from the old neighborhood that bordered it to the right. The expanse of vacant land had once seemed to go on forever, even though there was another neighborhood off to the far left. But to us, this empty field had been our refuge. We’d play here for hours as if it were the only place in the world that existed.
Now a new fence rose at the front of the street, blocking off the area. NO TRESPASSING was boldly stamped on a black sign. Undoubtedly, that sign had been placed there because of me.
I just stared, pinned to my bike, my hands kneading on the handlebars. Memories hit me like the worst beating I’d ever gotten in my life, pummeled me as they fell. And it fucking hurt because so many of them were good.
My lips twitching with an unshed smile, I was barely able to make out our tree in the distance. I wanted to go to it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It’d once seemed so tall, building it an incredible feat we’d achieved with the brute strength of our hands and the imagination in our minds.
So much time was spent there.
That place inside me expanded, pushed as it struggled for freedom against its confines.
Shit.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes as if doing that would somehow blot out the pictures that spun through my head. For a second, I just wanted to forget. But this was my life.
I’d take death over it, any day.
But I would live it as a penance for what I had done.