Page 171 of Fatality

Hell, I don’t believe me either.

I’d never disappear like that without warning them—not them.

They’ve been my best friends since we were twelve, they’ve seen me at my worst and at my best, through my anger issues—throwing chairs and setting things on fire.

Through me sobbing over dogs dying in movies, through everything but I can't tell them yet.

But I can't tell them yet.

He's a cheating bastard, a disgusting psychopath who turned my life upside down the moment he crashed into it.

If I tell them he kidnapped me, held me captive, worked on a car, and keeps coming back no matter how many times I push him away, who gets off on fucking mouths—my mouth—and got one of the best orgasm I ever had before, they’d probably kill him before I get the chance to.

And God knows they’ve already spent days worrying about me. I don’t want to put more on their shoulders.

“Basically, it was a family matter—”

Charlie cups my cheeks, squeezing them and cutting me off. Her beautiful gray eyes search mine, her blonde streaks framing her face, making her look younger, softer.

“Don’t lie.” Charlie sobs, her eyes never leaving mine. “Don’t you dare lie to us, Riven. We can see you're traumatized. We can see you're not okay. You're not yourself!”

I flinch.

Not because she's scaring me.

But because the sheer worry in her voice makes me feel like absolute shit.

And I hate myself for it, for lying to them, for looking my best friends in the eyes and feeding them bullshit. They deserve better, they deserve the truth. But I’m not ready to say it out loud.

That makes me sick, makes me disgusted with myself even more. And now, with that extra layer—Fuck.

I really can't stand him.

They'll never let it go, they'll try to protect me.

I can't let that happen, not when I know exactly what he's capable of.

“Charlie, calm down,” Jules says, her own voice strained with the effort of holding herself together. “We... Riven, listen.”

She runs a hand through her hair with a frustrated sigh and a shaky exhale, her eyes flick to me, then to Charlie and finally settle on the ceiling of my studio like she's praying to a God she doesn't even believe in.

“We tried to go to your loft. It was a mess.”

Jules swallows.

“Then we tried calling your comm... and realized you'd left it there.”

“We... we thought...” Charlie picks up where Jules left off, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “We thought something terrible had happened to you. That... maybe you did something to yourself... or someone hurt you.”

She sniffles.

“So we called your parents.” Her voice breaks.

I flinch again, bracing myself for what I’m going to hear.

“They didn't even let us finish speaking before hanging up the moment they heard your name.”

A sharp pain cuts through my chest, I'm not even surprised but it still hurts.