Ruin My Life (Mangled Masterpieces #1)

38. Win

38

Win

T he bow arches across the strings like a fluid extension of my arm, singing a desperate melody straight into the mic I’ve set up to record. Note after note, the crescendo beckons me higher—

“You get off on pain, don’t you, sad boy?”

My hand slips, V releasing an awful screech of protest.

“Fuck!”

Tossing the bow at the daybed against the window, it bounces once before tumbling to the floor. I sink down with it, setting my precious violin on the carpet beside me as I dig my knuckles into my eye sockets.

PTSD. That’s what they diagnosed me with alongside a slew of other things like general anxiety disorder and manic depression. I didn’t realize the extent of my triggers until I started recovery.

The list is endless.

All it takes is a similar face in a crowd. Wet dirt under my shoes. An accidental burn while cooking. The scent of post-storm musk .

After experiencing such severe levels of trauma, my brain has physically changed. I lose touch with the present, instantly thrown back to the worst moments of my life.

But having rational explanations only goes so far. I haven’t been this unstable since right before I was admitted. The urge to use or drink howls inside my skull at all hours. I can’t sleep without waking in a cold sweat, screaming and clawing at non-existent threats. Even distracting myself with violin covers isn’t enough.

I’m. Losing. My. Mind.

More often than I'd like, I find myself on the floor like I am now, trembling head to toe, wishing my sunshine was here with his arms wrapped around me and his soothing voice promising me it’ll pass. That I’ll get through this. That I’m safe.

But I can’t burden him. Not after finally getting him back.

So I weather the storm the way I always have: alone.

He’s probably fed up with me already. I’ve been avoidant. I’m sure it isn’t helping his insecurities about dating me again, but if he sees me like this, he’ll want to know what’s wrong and I’m too fucking scared to voice it. I haven’t told a soul. They tried to pry it out of me at Crestview but every time I got close, I broke.

Because saying it out loud makes it real. It means the nightmares weren’t only in my mind.

A knock echoes through the quiet guest house.

I’m not in the mood for Mom to tiptoe around me, anxiously attempting to convince me to confide in her. The idea of her knowing the truth makes me nauseous.

It would destroy her.

And me.

No, this is my weight to carry until I’m six feet under.

The pin pad lock beeps and clicks. Richard installed it before I moved in to give the illusion of privacy.

“Win? ”

I freeze.

Rustling bags and footsteps sound from the small kitchenette.

My brain spirals through a hundred questions. How the fuck did he get the pin? Is he pissed? What the hell is he doing here? Why didn’t he call me?

I look around for my phone, but it’s nowhere in sight. Fuck.

The squeak of sneakers approaches. “Your mom said you’ve been cosplaying as me in a depressive episode— ok, she didn’t put it like that, but I’m here to play the role of you and feed your stubborn ass.”

Tears burn in my eyes. I want to run to him. Fling myself in his arms and stay there until he forcibly removes me. But I’m glued to the floor, trapped in the shaking, useless cage of my body.

The hallway light flicks on.

I lift my tired, blurry gaze.

“Winnie…” Remy murmurs, hanging on the threshold.

One blink and he’s in front of me, on his knees, combing my hair off my forehead.

“Y-you’re not mad at me?”

His brows scrunch. “For what?”

My stomach swoops.

“I disappeared on you and I didn’t mean t-to—”

He grasps my shoulders, reeling me into him. Desperation takes over and I find myself in his lap, hugging him like a koala as he leans back against the wood frame of the daybed.

“Shh, easy, I’m not mad,” he whispers, kissing my temple. “I was worried about you, that's all.”

I bury my face in his neck, inhaling his scent. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not something you get to control,” he chuckles, the vibration of it loosening the constricting knots in my chest. One hand cradles the back of my head, the other soothingly stroking up and down my spine. For however many minutes, I cling to him as a blanket of relief descends on my exhausted mind. But a nagging thought persists.

“I should explain…”

He pulls back, holding my gaze—

And kisses me.

It’s soft and sweet and over too quickly. His hand slides to cup my cheek, thumb making a pass across my parted lips.

“You don’t have to right now,” he whispers. “I’m not here to demand reasons. I’m here because you need me and I want to be the one you lean on.”

I’m shaking so fucking hard.

“I’ve never…”

Leaned on anyone .

He nods when the words get stuck in my throat, fingers winding through the hair at the base of my skull. “Remember, this isn’t one-sided.”

A hot tear breaks free. He catches it with his lips.

“Fuck,” I whimper. “I don’t deserve you.”

He jerks back, a flash of anger in those hazel eyes. “We’re not doing that.”

More tears.

“But you don’t know how broken I am. I’m irreparable.”

He shakes his head. “I'm not trying to fix you, Win.”

Time stops. He’s silenced the voices of torment with one sentence.

Guiding my forehead to his, he tightens his grip in my hair. “Get it through your thick, gorgeous head: I've only ever wanted you . As you are. In any form I can have you.”

There goes my heart, soaring out of me into outer space.

“You do?” I sniffle .

He closes his eyes like he's praying for patience. When he opens them, they ooze sincerity. “More than anything, you beautiful mess.”

I can’t wrap my head around it.

“Why?”

His shoulder lifts in a half-shrug. “You understand me in a way no one else does. I recognized it the moment we met. It’s time you accept that I understand you too. Believe me, love, I know what it’s like to choke on darkness. To drown inside with a fake smile that no one seems to see through. To retreat from the world because it’s exhausting pretending nothing is wrong while you're trying your hardest to keep the slivers of yourself together. Of all people, I get it.”

Love. He hasn’t called me that since…

His nose bumps mine, reminding me of our closeness. The corner of his lips lifts a fraction. “But I am gonna ask one thing of you.”

Each breath hurts. My eyes leak. Somehow, this agony isn’t crushing; it’s like purging a sickness.

“Anything.”

He graces me with that full, breathtaking smile.

“Let me comfort you.”

And the floodgates are demolished.

A hitching sob rips from my throat. I’m nodding as he squeezes me flush against him, the lull of his voice chasing the monsters away while my bottled-up fear, pain and misery pour out.

I’ve never let go like this in front of anyone.

But in Remy’s arms with his reassuring whispers and interspersed kisses, the weight isn’t shoving me under. Kisses migrate from my cheeks and damp eyes. Rubbing his lips over mine, he whispers. “You gonna let me take care of you for real this time? ”

“Yes,” I choke.

He grins against my lips before stealing them. I melt into the gentle pressure; his faint stubble burns, his tongue breaking through. Hands wander, exploring my waist, my stomach, my ass. He tips me back until I'm lying on the carpet, never breaking the kiss.

I arch as he moves down my throat, sucking hard enough to mark. The sting sends a jolt to my balls. Fingers creep under my shirt, tracing the crevices of my abs and guiding the fabric over my head.

“Ok?"

I nod, grasping his cheeks and bringing his mouth to mine again. Our tongues dance, hot breaths coming in faster. I'm immersed in the feel of him, but I want his weight on me. Releasing his face, I smooth my palms down his chest—

He retreats, shaking his head, a gloating smirk on his dewy lips.

“Ah-ah, I'm the one in charge,” he tsks, bending to clamp his teeth around my nipple.

I gasp, “ Fuck .”

Chuckling, he laves at the barbell, dragging his tongue across my heaving chest to the other and repeating the torture. It’s fucking exquisite.

He flicks the metal. “I like these.” My chewed nails dig into his broad shoulders. “ A lot .”

Tousled light brown hair, lips puffy from kissing and peering at me through his lashes— I'm rendered speechless.

He licks and sucks down my torso to my navel. Lower. My heart pounds harder the closer he gets to my sweats. His fingers dip into the waistband and I still.

He looks up, a little line forming between his brows.

He accepts you. He understands you. He wants you .

It’s not enough to combat the dread filling my lungs.

“What’s wrong?”

How do I explain it? Do I even want to?

My eyes sting again. I’m so sick of crying .

Something clicks because his expression softens. “Whatever you’re hiding won’t push me away, love.”

God dammit, he does know me.

“You promise?”

“On my life.”

I bite my lip as my chin dips. “Ok.”

There’s no air as he pulls my pants down with my boxers. I squeeze my eyes shut.

He’ll pity you. He’ll judge you. He’ll scold you.

A low exhale.

“My god.”

I want to turn back time and prevent this moment from happening.

“You’re fucking beautiful.”

Wait… what?

I crack an eye open.

Remy is slack-jawed, gaping at me sprawled out like an offering. He scans my steadily heating skin, lingering on my half-hard cock.His fingers spread on my thighs, pushing them open wider.

If he hasn’t seen them yet, he will now.

There’s a long pause only broken by our ragged breathing.

“Is this why you wouldn’t let me undress you back then?” he asks, tone gentle as his palm burns a trail higher up my thigh, thumb tracing one of the many lines etched into my skin.

My tongue is lead.

His gaze remains on the mutilated tallies. “They’re old.”

Clearing my throat, I mumble, “I stopped a few years ago after discovering other… destructive habits. ”

He nods.

He’s not asking me why. Does he not want to know? He’s probably freaking the fuck out. Why isn’t he asking?

Before I can spiral into a panic attack, he lowers between my legs and—

Lips whisper over one of the raised lines.

I’m going to shatter all over again.

Remy kisses every single one, giving extra attention to the larger, darker scars. Uncontrollable tears slip from the corners of my eyes, but I don’t dare wipe them. As painful as this is, I refuse to break the spell.

Against my inner thigh, he whispers. “The next time you feel like hurting yourself, please come to me.”

Wet hazel eyes bore into mine.

“Ok,” I rasp. “I’m sorry.”

His nostrils flare. “Don’t apologize. I know this can’t be easy to share.”

I don’t even notice my staccato breaths until he’s covering me with his body again, hushing me and peppering little kisses all over my face between whispers of, “ You’re ok, I’ve got you ,” and, “ You’re so strong, baby. ”

Once I’ve calmed down a little, I seek his lips with my own. I need to lose myself in him and forget how vulnerable I feel. How exposed I am, like he’s opened up my heart and seen the damage.

I guess, in a way, he has.

But he’s still here, kissing me back, and touching me everywhere. His weight drops, his rigid length digging into my hip. Feeling him hard even after witnessing my scars rekindles my arousal. He must notice me thickening because he shifts to grind our cocks together.

“I need you out of those jeans,” I pant into his mouth.

He tugs on my bottom lip. “Mmm, not yet, sweet thing.”

My cock jumps, making him smirk as he nips my jaw.

His hand skims my figure as he slinks lazily toward my throbbing erection. I suck in a sharp breath at the sudden tight grip on my shaft. He bites his lip on a groan while his thumb toys with the piercing under my crown.

Whimpering, my eyes roll back.

“I can’t stop thinking about this,” he murmurs, massaging around the metal on an upstroke. Precum weeps from my slit. He smears it over my cockhead and I moan.

“You like that?”

“ Yes .”

He repeats the motion, attentive to the sounds coming out of me as he picks up the pace and leans toward my dripping cock. His pretty lips are right there. I buck up into his fist, my balls aching with the need to release.

A puff of humid breath fans my tip.

Right. There.

I’m about to thrust when a blush rises in his cheeks.

“I don’t have much… experience,” he admits, “Like at all, other than that one time with you.”

“Thank fuck, or I’d have to murder someone.”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Anything you do will feel incredible.”

He wets his lips, glancing at my leaking dick. With the tiniest shake of his head, he lowers his mouth.

The first tentative swipe of his tongue almost catapults me into an orgasm. My fingers rake the carpet as he laves at me again, this time swirling around my crown with a moan.

A slew of curses fall from my lips.

This man is killing me .

His lashes flutter. “I’ve been haunted by the taste of you for so long…”

Then he devours me.

“Oh, fuck! ” I cry out with a jerk, unintentionally shoving my cock into the back of his throat. He chokes but doesn’t release me as I expect. No, my sunshine is dead set on ruining me spectacularly because he doesn't let up.

“Not… experienced… my… ass,” I gasp between bobs of his head. His free hand begins kneading my balls, cheeks hollowing as he sucks and pumps my length. Once he's settled into a rhythm he tries taking me as deep as he can.

And I’m chanting his name like a prayer even though he’s the one worshiping me. He pops off with a dazed smirk as he continues stroking my straining dick.

“I can do this all day. You’re fucking delicious.”

I blink at him. “How are you real?”

He simply sucks my cock back into his deliciously warm mouth. Reentering nirvana sends zips of pleasure through me at an alarming rate. My balls draw up at the same time his wandering fingers tease my taint.

“Fuck— Rem— I’m—”

He doesn’t make it to my hole. He doesn’t get another warning. Shit, even I don’t get a warning as my cock swells on his tongue—

Euphoria .

It’s better than ripping a line. I’m obliterated . The orgasm radiates through me as endless streams of cum spurt into his throat. It’s transcendent.

Remy’s eyes close, swallowing and swallowing, even as cum drips from the corner of his lips.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” I gasp, clawing at him to bring him over me. His heavy lidded gaze locks on mine as I crush our lips together to taste myself .

Both of us moan.

I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his ass, urging him to grind against me. I don’t give a fuck if I’m so sensitive I could scream— I need him to come too.

Aftershocks wash through me while we hump and groan and gasp until suddenly Remy goes rigid, jaw dropping—

“ Win .”

I feel the pulse of his cock through his jeans as he descends into blissful madness too and collapses on me, neither of us capable of moving.

Lips graze my ear. “Round two in twenty?”

I snort.

He chuckles.

Another laugh bubbles up.

Soon, we’re wheezing through fits until we’re kissing again.