His admission floors me and when he doesn’t further explain what he means, I sit back against the sofa. “I....”

I take a wary glance over at him, his expression is void of any emotion as he stares at a point over my head, his headache forgotten about. “You don’t have to say anything. You can go.”

“Actually…” I clear my throat. “I can’t, you drove me here.”

The corner of his lip twitches as if he’s going to smile, but when he turns away and says, “I’ll call you a cab,” I put a hand on his arm, over his tan, inked skin, making him tense.

“I want to understand, but I can’t if you won’t talk to me.” He gently shucks my hand off and stands up, ignoring me. It’s like he’s completely shut down. “Zander?”

He looks at me briefly before sighing and walking out of the room. I stand, following him into the kitchen and watching as he pulls on his t-shirt.

“What did you mean you’re an addict?”

He pauses but chooses to answer me this time. “I meant it in the most biblical sense of the word.”

My eyes widen. “Are you on something right now?” That would explain his strange behavior with his ticks.

“No!” he shouts, pain flashing in his eyes. “Fucking hell, Taylor.”

“You can’t just spring something like that on me and not expect me to ask questions.”

His jaw grows tense as he grunts, “I’m not using, haven’t for the last seven years.”

“You’re seven years sober?” I ask in clarification to which he nods. “That explains the no alcohol then.”

He doesn’t comment, looking around at anything but me. He looks vulnerable and it pains me that this powerful man has a crutch that could completely destroy him.

He chooses that moment to look at me, his expression turning angry as his gaze flits over my face. “Fucking knew it,” he mumbles before raising his voice. “I need you to leave.”

“But—”

“Now!” he roars, fire in his eyes.

I make a point to not move my focus from him as I pick up my purse and grab my cell, punching in the number of a cab company. “I’ve done nothing wrong. Remember that.”

I bring my cell to my ear and reel off the address of a bar I saw on the corner of the street before picking up my coat and walking to the front door. I expect him to follow so when he doesn’t, I’m disappointed.

One hand on the front door, I jump and pull it open when I hear a crash from the kitchen, not bothering to shut it behind me as I hightail it down the sidewalk toward the bar.

* * *

I’m so fucking angry with myself for treating her that way. I’m cold and an asshole, but not to women. Never to women. The scared look on her face was enough to send me spiraling, emptying the counter of everything on it.

My breaths come in ragged, my chest heaving against the strain of trying to keep my tears at bay as I brace my hands against the kitchen wall, the shards of the plate taunting me like the broken pieces of myself. It’s not her fault I’m fucked up and yet I couldn’t help myself. I took one look at the pity in her eyes and I was a goner.

I’m a grenade waiting to detonate. I’m so fucking angry, with not only myself but with Kai and the shitty start in life I was handed. But I only have myself to blame.

I could’ve taken everything I was dealt with and turned it around a lot sooner than I did. I didn’t have to smoke weed until it no longer did anything for me. I didn’t have to pop pills like they kept me alive, although they partly did; at least that’s what it felt like at the time. Without them I felt like I was drowning. I didn’t have to take them. That was my decision. Mine. Not anybody else’s.

And so was the decision to start sticking myself with needles.

A cold sweat starts up my back, bringing with it a tingling feeling that slowly turns into an itch. One I can never scratch. I won’t do it to myself again.

I make my way over to my cell, the itch moving up into my neck and head, pain blinding me as if I’m on a comedown, one I can never satiate fully.

“Fuck!” I cry out, shaking my head and gripping my hair, trying to rid myself of the memories that feel all too real.

I press one on my speed dial. As soon as a gruff voice comes over the speaker, the floodgates open.

“Reg…” My voice is hoarse and I’m barely holding back a sob.

He doesn’t need anything else from me, I hear him talking to someone in the background before his voice fills the receiver. “I’m on my way, dude. Don’t fucking move.”

Without hanging up, I slide down onto the floor, my cell rolling out of my hand as I stare at the wall in front of me before my gaze drifts to the broken shards. It’d be so easy to pick one up and feel a different kind of release, one that would take me away from this sad fucking existence.

A burst of laughter comes out between a sob. I’ve only ever been this out of control in the beginning and right now it feels like I’ve taken a whole step backward because of a fucking woman.

A woman that’s consuming my every thought and become pretty fucking important. Why I thought it was a good idea to come clean I don’t know. It was a fucking mistake. The way she looked at me with pity and curiosity like I was something to study and fix isn’t something I ever want to see again. Not from her. It’s better to rid my system of her now rather than later. I know that from experience.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here before Reg’s voice calls out to me.

“In here,” I reply weakly.

Loud footsteps on the wooden hallway echo throughout the house before he comes into view. “Fucking hell, Z, what have you done to yourself?”

His abrupt tone snaps me out of my head and I scrub at my face, pointing behind him. “Set up in the living room.”

He eyes me warily before disappearing. I follow him into the living room on shaky legs and watch him setting up his things on the coffee table.

Flopping down into a black armchair, I extend my arm toward him and with a curt tone, bark, “Take it onto my hand.”

“Hell no,” he retorts. “You told me after your neck to never let you get any more in plain sight.”

The glare I send his way doesn’t faze him. “I don’t care what I said, just do it.”

He sighs and leans toward me, elbows on his knees, testing my patience. “What happened?” I grind my teeth, my jaw tense to stave off the feeling of my skin crawling. “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s up.”

“I don’t pay you to talk, Reggie. If I wanted to talk to someone, I’d pay for a shrink.”

He shakes his head while picking up the tattoo machine. “Maybe you should talk to someone, they’d be able to sort out your shitty attitude. You’re a fucking asshole sometimes.”

My answering grunt is all that’s needed. I know I am, but as he starts disinfecting my hand and shaving my skin before the sweet sting of the needle touches me, I don’t feel the same release that makes it okay. My skin is crawling for a different kind of release. One that comes in the form of sexy curves and chocolate-brown eyes.

Reg swears at me as I pull my hand away to cradle my face. “I’ve fucked up.” The room turns silent as the machine is turned off, but he doesn’t speak, knowing I don’t want him to. “I… I met someone.”

I look up and see his brow raised. “You meet a lot of people.”

I know what he’s implying. “Yeah, I know, but she’s different. Or at least I thought she was.”

“You know what your problem is?” He crosses his ankle over his knee and his arms over his chest. “You make assumptions of people based on your past.”

“That right?”

“Yeah. You need to give them the benefit of the doubt and let them in a little.” I start to protest and tell him I was, but he cuts me off. “I know it breaks your not-giving-anything-control rule, but I think you’re kidding yourself.”

I get up and walk over to the window, bracing my hands on either side of it. “I told her and she looked at me like I was a wounded fucking puppy.” I turn to look at him. “How am I meant to be with someone when all they’re thinking about is trying to ‘fix’ me or wondering when the next time I’m going to flip out and have a breakdown will be? I don’t function like normal human beings.”

His gaze drifts over to the bookcase by my nightstand where the books are organized by height. “None of that will matter if they want to be with you.”

“It matters to me!” My voice breaks on the last word and he looks away to give me a moment of privacy. When I’ve got my emotions under control, I speak again. “I want to be the guy that surprises his girl with a vacation or spontaneous plans without freaking out about it first. Hell, if it eventually happens, I want to be able to live with her without uprooting her whole life. How fucked up is it that I can’t have that?”

“Everyone has their quirks.”

I laugh. “It’s not a quirk, it’s insanity. And I don’t expect anyone to have to live the way I do just because I have a crush.”

My heart pangs like I’ve betrayed it when I say the word “crush” because what I really want to say is she helps me release control. Not once when I’ve been with her have I second-guessed myself.

“Well, man, that’s not your choice to make and by the sounds of it, this is more than a little crush. Have you talked to Kai?”

At the mention of his name I clench my hands. “He’s the one who caused all this, storming in here and airing out my dirty laundry in front of her.”

Reg’s eyes widen. “Kai did that? Shit, that doesn’t seem like him.”

I fucking know that, but then again, we've never been in this situation before. “I can’t blame him for how I treated her though. I kicked her out of the goddamn house, I don’t even know if she got home alright.”

“Message her,” he states, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

I shake my head. “Nah, I saw it on her face. I’ve lost her before we even really had a chance.”

* * *

I stomp up the stairs of my apartment building and push my key in the lock of my door, opening it quietly and shutting it behind me. Once inside, I beat my forehead repeatedly against the door.

“What the fuck.” When I turn around, D is sitting on the sofa, a popcorn full hand raised to her mouth. “Did he break you?” she jokes, but I’m not in the mood for jokes right now.

“Where’s Benny?” I ask, looking around the room.

“In bed.” She brushes off her hands into the popcorn bowl and places it on the coffee table as I take off my coat and boots. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I grunt out.

“No, something’s up. Spill.” She taps the sofa beside her.

I don’t know why I feel so stupid, this is D. I’m just so confused about it myself, I don’t really know what happened. One minute he was telling me he was giving me “control,” whatever the hell that meant, and the next he was shouting for me to leave. Mindfuck or what.

“I don’t actually know. We were having a great time and things were starting to get heated when the other guy—the one I had the threesome with—barged into the house and they started arguing about me being a release and a distraction for Zander.” She raises a brow. “I know, I didn’t know what to do, I thought they were going to start fighting but then Zander said something about Kai wanting me for himself and—”

“Hold up! The other guy likes you too?”

I shrug. “I don’t know but they made it seem that way. I knew Zander was closed off and not telling me something so when Kai left, I wanted to know what the fuck was going on.”

“Understandably,” she chimes in, grabbing a handful of popcorn like she’s watching a freaking movie.

“Then it got a little weird. He gripped his head and I thought he was going to fall over when he leaned against his kitchen counter, so I helped him to the living room to sit down. D, he told me he gets headaches sometimes because he’s an addict.”

Her hand stops halfway to her mouth. “What in the hell.”

“I know, but apparently he’s been clean for seven years, so I guess that means he’s a recovering addict? I dunno, but it kinda makes sense when I think about it. He was always being secretive and never liked to talk about himself.”

“It’s not exactly something you say on a first date, Tay, you have to give him credit where it’s due.”

I blow out a deep breath. “I know, but now I don’t know what to do. Kai is his best friend, they shouldn’t fall out because of me.”

“I’m not sure what you want me to say because it’s not your fault. They have to sort their shit out on their own.”

I sigh and rest my head on the back of the sofa. “I guess.”

“What’s going to happen now?” she asks after a long silence.

Her question stumps me. “He kicked me out of his house. Nothing’s going to happen.”

Her brow furrows. “Credit where credit’s due again, he did just reveal his deepest, darkest secret. Give him some time,”

I stay silent, mulling that over. I can’t imagine how hard it was for him to tell me, then again, I wasn’t giving him much of a choice. But all I can think about now is if he was using me as a distraction like Kai said.

Great, I’ve let Kai get into my head.

She yawns and stands up. “I better get to bed, Benny’s going to have me up at six tomorrow morning.”

I look over at her. “What time’s Sav coming to get him? Don’t you have work?”

She looks away from me but not before I see the sad look she has on her face. “I won’t have a job come Monday anyway so what’s the point in going in.”

I know I won’t be able to convince her otherwise, she’s already made up her mind. “Well, if you need to talk you know where I am.”

She doesn’t reply, waving goodnight to me before disappearing into her room and leaving me with my thoughts about her work. Fuck! What am I going to do about my work?

I never should've started up anything with a client. What a stupid fucking idea, Taylor. Now I’m never going to get to be a designer when my boss figures out we’ve lost NutriLift as a client.

I may as well stay at home with D.