Chapter 12
I shoot to my feet and push Kaden off Abigail. Kaden can worry about her, but shoving that protein bar in her mouth while she chokes on it is too much. Not with me, asshole.
I shove him into the wall next to her bed, contemplating squeezing the life out of him. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
He stumbles but regains his footing quickly, pinning me with a serious stare. “Stay away from this.”
I am so pumped up for a fight that I ball my hand into a fist, ready to smash his face. But he doesn’t even flinch. On the contrary, he arches an arrogant brow at me, daring me. He knows full well that if I attack him, I will be expelled immediately.
“Please, stop.” It’s her sweet voice that drags me back from whatever violent hell I’d been trapped in.
Kaden passes me by, watching me and then her. The asshole’s jaw unclenches, as if coming to terms with something. A worried look replaces the angry one.
“Please, eat.”
She chews slowly, as if every bite is a chore.
“Good, small bites. It’s okay.”
They have an entire conversation like this. Jealousy rears three beastly and monstrous heads.
She gives him half, and says, “This is all I can eat.”
He purses his lips and sits in the other chair.
“How long, Abi? This shit is getting worse and stop saying you have it under control.”
“I’m trying, Kaden.”
“No, you’re fucking not.”
He raises his voice again, and she yanks the needle from her vein. Droplets of blood paint the inside of her arm. Seeing the life bleeding out of her makes me want to speed into a fucking wall. I’d rather crash than ever witness that.
“Really mature. That was the only good nutrition that you’ve put inside you in a while.”
From wrestling with jealousy to battling confusion, worry wins.
“What does she have?” I ask him because I am so done with her omitting and hiding stuff from me. Fuck, the moment I saw her pale face and uncoordinated walk in the hallway, I rushed to her and caught her just in time.
“Eat it, or I’m telling him.”
At his threat, Abigail grabs the bar and eats it, deflating me. She chews the bar angrily, her eyes filled with accusation.
Kaden ignores that and cocks his head at me. “Look after her.”
I glare at him. He doesn’t have to ask that of me.
The nurse comes inside and sees the IV on the side and rushes over to Abigail.
I lift her chin, my thumb caressing along her cheek. “Let’s get that back in you. I’m not leaving you.”
Her small nod has my heart restarting in my chest.
The nurse puts the IV back in and leaves, but not before saying over her shoulder to call her if we need anything.
Seconds pass in silence while our eyes lock and then Abigail closes hers. “I have an eating disorder—anorexia.”
I slump back against the chair, my legs no longer supporting me. She takes my hand in hers, squeezing lightly as if I am the one who needs consolation.
“It started a few years ago… I was good at hiding it until I told Kaden. After Celine was sent away, Kaden and I promised not to keep secrets from each other, but he also told Bailey and Blake. And I’ve been trying to get better for my friends, but it’s not easy.”
“Why?”
“At first, to stop my parents from always reminding me to watch how I look, what I eat, how I dress, how I behave… and one day I just got used to eating almost nothing.”
This girl is playing with her health to satisfy her demented parents. I understand why Kaden reacted like that. I would have done worse.
I’m going through our dates and how she left the food almost untouched every time.
“I just…”
“You can’t stop it.”
We’re so similar. I wonder if soul mates are people made of the same fabric, mirroring each other. They make you painfully aware of your flaws, pushing you to do better for yourself and the person you love.
“What are you so afraid of, princess?”
“My family.”
Maybe she’s tired, but for the first time, she tells me stuff.
“I called you ‘bulldozer’ in my mind.”
“Because of my dick, right?”
She laughs, the sounds so melodious I want to hear it on repeat. Then she shoves me playfully. I take her hand with the IV and kiss the inside of her palm.
“I wasn’t expecting you, not now… you have terrible timing.” She closes her eyes, but not before I see the agony stretching in them. There’s this urge inside of me to always make sure she’s all right. If she’s not, I am not either. It’s a simple equation.
I caress her face, planting a kiss on her mouth, and she falls asleep. My name falls from her lips. Mine, not his, easing me a bit. I don’t know how long I stay there, just contemplating the girl I can’t live without.
The nurse peeks her head inside and says, “She’s asleep. You should go to class.”
“I’m staying right here.”
The nurse shakes her head at me. If she thinks her disapproval will make me change my mind, she’s mistaken.
Abigail sleeps for two hours straight, and I peruse the internet for anorexia. That shit is serious. It can damage your body to the point of organ failure and can even cause death in severe cases.
I must look the way I feel when she wakes up—our hearts know the common language of our minds.
Her eyes fall on my phone where the page on anorexia is still open.
“I know it’s serious, but I have it under control.”
She’s in denial like the one in which I was for years, and that scares me even more.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
I clamp my mouth shut, helping her stand up. I call the nurse, and she comes out of the small office. Taking the needle out, she puts a bandage over the site.
“How are you feeling?” she asks Abigail.
“Good.”
“I called your parents.”
The moment she says parents, Abigail’s entire posture stiffens.
I’m convinced now that she truly is afraid of her family. Clenching and unclenching my hands into fists at my sides, I try to keep my anger at bay.
Abigail lets out a small puff of air ringing of dejection. She plucks her phone out of her jacket, sighing at the missed calls.
“You should go to class,” Abigail tells me.
Ah, so we’re back to this. I will claw at her walls until I fucking bring them all down, but I won’t pressure her right now, so I leave.
Who would be in the right frame of mind for classes when the girl you love is in obvious pain and denial? While teachers keep babbling, all I can think of is Abigail and the fact that she has a damn eating disorder. Classes drag, but I push through, keeping myself busy researching more about anorexia to the point that my sanity threatens to snap.
At lunch, I stride toward the group’s table, wired to the maximum. I have fallen so low down the rabbit hole of fear I expect to break all my damn bones once I hit the bottom.
I slam my phone on the table. “What are you going to do about this?”
Bailey and Blake look at the open web page with detailed information about anorexia.
“What I have done since the moment I found out—not pressure her while reminding her to eat,” Kaden says.
“And how has this strategy worked so far?”
“Better than before. Look, I get you care for her, but this is a family matter.”
“Do you actually think you can care for something that needs specialized help? How arrogant are you, man?”
Blake crosses his arms over his chest and Bailey looks up. Both of them nod in my direction.
“I know her best,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Fuck that.”
I stalk away and decide to skip school. If I remain here one second longer, I’ll set this damn place on fire.
At the dorm, I take two stairs at once. Turning a sharp right, I let myself into Abigail’s apartment. I function purely on the need to check on her and desire to make sure that she’s fine. My pulse pounds so hard it might crack my neck open. But the beat normalizes the moment I find her curled on her bed with a pen and sketchbook.
“I have a reason for skipping school.”
“We both know you should already have your diploma and be at one of those elite universities, the most beautiful and smartest girl there.”
A shy smile touches her lips. “I strive to be the best I can be.”
I know. That’s why you have a fucking eating disorder.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
But her eyes already light up as she puts on ripped jeans, a crop top, and a jacket. If someone would ask me what I like physically the most about her, I would have trouble deciding. My first thought would be everything. I just can’t decide. She’s perfect.
“Did you have your fill?” She puts one hand on her waist.
“Never.”
She makes a pirouette and lands in my arms, where she belongs. The only rational explanation for this familiarity is that I was made for her. I cup the back of her neck and pull her to me. Crushing my lips to hers, I kiss her, pouring into it every fantastic and terrifying feeling she ignites in me.
She parts her lips, feeding me her moans, her sweet flavor invading my tastebuds. That tongue of hers tangling with mine in a maddening rhythm that always has me wanting more. And now, I’m hard, but that’s nothing new in her presence. I adjust myself in my pants, and she giggles, loving the effect she has on me—a smart and cruel woman who I am smitten and obsessed with.
We walk outside, keeping a bit of distance between us until we reach my car.
I open the door for her, and she steps inside, her face serene—at ease.
She fires off one question after the other on the drive to the nearby track. I stop in front of the gates, and after I give my name to the security guy, he lets me pass.
My father surprised me by sending my race car to see how the new paint job looks.
Walking into the garage, her mouth opens as she rushes to my car and glides her finger over the design.
It looks incredible. The flames and the human form emerging from them, as if the flames themselves bring him to life. It’s just like in her painting. But nothing surpasses the sight of my girl next to my car. Potent emotions claw at my chest as I watch, mesmerized by my two favorite things together.
Her fingers halt on her initial, and I rock back and forth, suddenly nervous.
“This is the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me. You’re making it impossible to get over you.”
“Good, because it’s the same for me.”
After changing into my race suit and putting on my helmet, I get situated in my seat and watch her as she takes in all the design elements. I want to put her on the hood and show her—in every way—how serious I am when it comes to what I feel for her. I’m burning from the inside out for her.
Peter, one of the mechanics on my crew, approaches me, and he glances at Abigail standing beside my car. “The things we do to impress our ladies.”
I nod. Not even trying to deny it.
I look at her, excitement shining in her eyes. “Head on up to the bleachers.”
She quickly scurries away, and I start the engine then make my way over to the circuit, increasing my speed until reaching the track, hit the maximum speed and hold it, switching gears. All that horsepower rumbles under my ass, gluing my back to the seat while I stare ahead. When a sharp curve comes, I focus on completing the lap, my reflexes kicking in, everything in me knowing exactly what to do. And that—coupled with the high I experience—makes me ecstatic.
I got this. This is what I was born to do. The faster I drive, the more shackles snap open, one after the other, freeing me.
By the time the hour is up, I am sweaty. Getting out, Peter hands me a Gatorade and I hand him my helmet. He then gets in the car and drives it back to the garage. I stare at it longingly, but it won’t be long until I am reunited with my green and orange beast.
Abigail runs toward me and says, “Wow,” every few seconds.
“When will you do it again?”
A laugh erupts from my throat. “I should resume my training, so…”
“You were made for this.” She jumps into my arms. “You were so in control.”
“So, you weren’t scared for me?”
“I will always be afraid when I see you race. But the pride and knowing you’re doing what you love most will outweigh that. I will kick your ass if you don’t come back to me.”
“I will always come back to you.”
“Swear it. Swear it, own it, and respect it.”
Her chin wobbles, as if my words will make everything right.
“I swear it. I’ll always find my way back to you.”
She slams her mouth against mine, kissing me hard. Teeth, tongue, passion, love, and fear all mingle in our savage kiss.
After changing out of my race suit and heading over to Abigail, I look back at the garage. It’s hard to say goodbye to my car, but I will be back behind the wheel, leaving the competition in the dust.
I take Abigail to eat next, and when the menus come, I interlace our fingers on the table. The time I spend with her is priceless, and not even racing can compete with that.
“You know I will freak out, so let’s talk about your eating disorder.”
“Dane…”
“No, princess. You said something on the track. I need you to do the same now. I can’t be the best driver if I have to worry that my girl is not taking care of herself.”
“I will search for someone who can help me. Happy?”
I’m so proud when she eats the soup. She takes a few bites of the fish and eats a bit of the roasted vegetables. I stare at her like a hawk until she rolls her eyes at me. “It’s not always like that. It’s also because of nerves. I’m not nervous now. I’m feeling great, actually.”
With her not finishing her meal and me eating way too fast, we’re soon back in the car, ending up at the cliff.
She turns to me, eyes sparkling. No diamond in this world would shine brighter, but I’ll be damned if I won’t find one to give to her.
“We should get back to those training lessons.”
“Was that adrenaline hit today not enough?”
“I want everyone to know when they see me drive that I learned from the best. They will only eat my dust.”
I chuckle. Could I say no to her? I doubt it.
Switching places, she now controls the car, gaining a better feel for the engine. The stick and her make a good team. I’d spend every waking hour teaching her if the result is her looking at me like I am all that she wants.
She completes a few rounds until she parks and slips out of the car. I follow her on pure instinct.
The stars illuminate the night, flickering in gold across the infinite black sky. The waves crash against the cliff, offering a peaceful, almost hypnotic sound.
Abigail hops onto the hood of my car and spreads her legs. I take it as an invitation to step between them and lift her higher. A squeak leaves her mouth.
“We’re going to put a dent in your hood.”
“Those will be honorable battle scars. And you coming is my checkered flag.”
She giggles, and I peel her jeans and thong off her. Her bra goes next as she has already yanked her top off. My girl is greedy and doesn’t like to lose any time. Neither do I.
I kiss her lips, then trail my mouth down her neck. Reaching her two rosy nipples, I roll, lick, and bite them. I want to take my time, but desperation pushes me. Dropping to my knees, I pepper kisses along her thigh.
“You’re perfect, Abigail. I’ve never seen someone as beautiful as you. And this pussy of yours has turned me into a disciple.”
Her moans fill the night, and I hold her still as I eat her out, her juices coating my chin and feeding my addiction. I doubt I will ever be able to recover.
“Is this sweet pussy mine?”
“Only yours.”
“Good, because if someone else gets near it, I’m going to turn into a killer. And I’m not joking.”
“I promise… Dane, baby. I need you in me, really bad.”
Rocking my hips, I push inside of her in one go, bottoming out. Every time I am inside of her, I lose my damn mind in my chase to bury myself and never come out. I’d be more than content to just live inside her sweet pussy while she feeds me her moans.
“Fuck, condom.”
She digs her nails into my ass, throwing her head back. Her pussy walls clench, holding me tight. “No, inside of me. Just like that. I want to feel you.”
Fuck, I love that she loses her damn mind just like me when I’m buried inside her, connecting on the most primal level.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I forget that…”
“I don’t care… nothing between us…”
This skin-on-skin sensation feels fucking spectacular. I bury my head in her neck, thrusting in and out of her—insatiable to my marrow.
My cock stretches her, filling her until she gasps for air. Passion. Lust. Madness. They create a concoction that gets me drunk on her. There’s one checkered flag I’m chasing right now: pleasing her and watching her fall apart for me.
Gripping her chin, I place my forehead on hers, needing to touch more of her as I pound that sweet pussy until I can tell she’s near. I want her to feel and want only me because God knows she’s infected my cells and is floating through my system.
When she comes, she strangles my cock so good that my vision blackens for a damn second and I almost shoot inside of her. I pull out, wanting to mark her on the outside as she marks me on the inside. Pleasure tightens my muscles as I jerk my cock in furious strokes. God damn it, nothing compares to chasing my release as I have my woman splayed out in front of me. Erupting with a groan, I paint her belly in my cum. Her eyes take in the mess I made.
“You’re mine.”
“I’m pretty sure if you could tattoo that on me, you would.”
I clean her with my shirt and say over her lips, “And I’d point at it proudly.”
“You’re crazy.”
A relaxed, intimate atmosphere surrounds us, loosening me up.
“You have no idea how crazy I am.” Especially about you.
She props herself on her elbows, tilting her head. “Then tell me.”
It was supposed to be a joke, but who am I kidding? This is her. She has an uncanny capacity to see me, even the parts I try to hide.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“So this is how you feel when I’m keeping things from you,” she says pensively.
My jaw clenches. “I don’t want you to look at me differently.” I couldn’t fucking bear that, but isn’t it her right to decide if she wants someone like me?
Split apart, I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting to hide, but there’s nowhere to go. She’s right there in every beat, every thought, every inhale.
She takes my face in her hands, and through kisses she says, “I would never.”
That’s what she does. With gentle hands, she pries me open, exposing all my vulnerabilities. Her reassurance rips apart my walls while she slips inside, bringing light that makes the darkness feel bearable.
Here goes fucking nothing.
“I suffer from a mild bipolar disorder, and my mind tends to focus on things in a way that I can’t let go. At times, it gets too hard, with all the stimuli, the mood swings, the damn thoughts, and dark episodes…”
I avert my gaze, not wanting to see her looking at me differently.
She lifts on her tiptoes and locks her arms around my neck. She kisses the side of my face, then peppers my cheek and jaw with soft kisses as she plays with the ends of my hair.
“I love you as you are. To me, you’re perfect. When you feel less, lost, or sad, I’ll be there, reminding you why you should never allow your thoughts to control you. I’ll love you for the both of us in those hard moments. Just don’t let them win. Don’t leave me.”
A sob rips from my throat, and I palm her cheeks, needing to touch her.
“I’m never letting you go. Never, ever,” I chant in the rhythm of my heart beating only for her.
Through blurry eyes, I can still detect the sadness written on her face.
“It’s going to hurt like hell.” Her voice, barely above a whisper, is a terrified, meek sound that clenches my heart.
She hugs me back so tightly like she wants to dig herself into me.
“I have you.” I kiss the top of her head and wrap her in my arms. “I love you, princess. With all of me. And when I find out who hurt you, I’m going to kill them.”
She cries silently into my chest while I stroke her back.
Of course, even my love story has to be sad.
“Forgive me for being selfish,” she says, kissing me with a desperation that matches mine.
She’s perfect. She should forgive me for allowing my feelings to override my rationality. I love her, and now that I found her, I’m never letting her go.
Life with someone like me won’t be easy, but for her, I will try my damn best to make it worth it.