Page 98 of Adam
No wonder everything went to hell.
I never told a soul. Not Cain, not Judas, not even Grayson. I kept my mouth shut all these years, swallowing the bile every time the image popped back up.
Until today.
What ifI told them?What ifI stopped playing the quiet little martyr and shoved the truth down their throats?What ifI showed them exactly what kind of rabid, deranged bitch their precious mommy and aunt really was?
Would they even believe me? Would they finally shut the fuck up with their moral high ground and understand the wreck I turned into was because ofher?
He’s a bastard. A fucking piece of shit.
Arrogant, loud, always two seconds away from throwing a punch like it proves something. He should’ve been six feet under the day my father almost put him there. Instead, I made the mistake of opening the door, letting the devil crawl into my life, into my house. Now he walks around like he’s king of my world, like I’m just some pawn he can move where he pleases. Like my body, my breath, my fury, are his to take.
I hate him. God, I hate him so much. If he thinks he can break me, he’s going to choke on the fire he lit inside me.
Yet every time his eyes catch mine, I can’t tell if I want to claw them out or drown in them.
I’ve been avoiding him since this morning. I didn’t go to university so I wouldn’t have to spend more awkward time with him.
I’m such a fool. How did I let myself get seduced by that two-faced devil and let him think he owns me?
That’s it. I need to stand up for myself and show him I’m not his little puppet that he can play with anytime he wants, using his signature charming smirk.
Determined to change the way I treat the situation and him, I grab my bottle of water and head to the house’s gym.
I’ve always loved a killer workout when I’m stressed or can’t get something off my mind.
My shoulders hurt so much. I guess I’m just tense after the last few days. And the scar on my shoulder blade is killing me lately.
Hopefully, the gym will be empty today. I need solitude.
I push the door wide open and … it isn’t.
“Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better,” Adam says with a smirk as he bends to lift some weights.
Great …
I pretend to be unbothered and avoid replying to him. Trying to keep my eyes to myself and resist even the slightest sidelong glance, I walk up to the treadmill in front of the window.
I step on, switch it on, and start off at a quick pace. After a few seconds—or so I suppose—he nonchalantly comes over, facing me as he leans back against the window ledge, resting his elbows on it.
“You’re hurting my feelings, little orchid.”
I scoff, attempting to keep my venom to myself and end this sooner.
If I keep up with this attitude, he’ll get bored and leave me alone, won’t he?
“You won’t even look at me, huh?”
I bite back any words and push the treadmill faster, shifting into a steady run. Keeping my eyes off him isn’t easy, but I manage. Sort of.
He clicks his tongue, pushes off the window ledge, and props his elbows on the treadmill, a sly grin spreading across his face.
“You think ignoring me makes you tough?” he drawls, tilting his head as his eyes drag over me. “All it does is show me how badly you want to look.”
“In your dreams,” I mutter, eyes fixed on the treadmill screen, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a glance. “Leave me alone.”
He smirks, tongue clicking again as his gaze lingers. “If you really wanted to leave you alone, princess, you wouldn’t have chosen the treadmill right in front of me.”
