Wrecked (The Westin Legacies #1)

Prologue

Ipull back my midnight black curtains, my eyes vacant as I stare out the bedroom window.

The picturesque view is concealed by hundreds of raindrops riveting down the glass pane.

The muggy humidity leaves behind a veil of condensation, helping the rain obscure the images in the distance.

I can barely make out more than shadows, though I’m not really looking.

My eyes rest on the nothingness ahead, and in it I find a strange sense of solidarity I haven’t felt in months.

I’m numb.

I’m living in a blurred existence, much like the landscape beyond this window.

I stand here lost in my thoughts, hiding from a reality I’m desperately trying to escape.

Every action I take is ten times harder than the last. The act of breathing has become a tedious and painful chore.

The beating of my heart imitates the sensation of a thousand knives piercing each chamber.

It’s a pain I know all too well. Maybe not in the literal sense, but I’ve experienced this kind of sickening agony once before.

The residual ache is something I still fight through every single day.

I try to cry, to release the pain that I’ve buried so deep inside my heart. A pain I’ve concealed solely for the comfort of others. But my tears have dried up, and I feel nothing. My body is frozen, as if blood no longer runs through my veins, feeding my organs to keep me alive.

I stayed.

I stayed for as long as I needed to.

For her.

I stayed because I love her, despite my actions indicating otherwise. But I can’t exist like this anymore. I can’t live a life without him. I can’t spend my life beside her and not want him. Not miss him. And not see him. Because she is his.

Even more than I am.

I wish I could scream at the top of my lungs to give him back! To tell the world that I love him, and he loved me, and that everything inside me just…hurts. I want everyone to know that I’m broken. Fucking destroyed. A lifeless skeleton just going through the motions to survive.

Eat.

Drink.

Sleep.

Breathe.

Breathing is the hardest to remember.

What an excruciating mundane little task.

I do it anyway, though. I keep breathing…for her.

But I don’t want to struggle to breathe anymore.

I don’t want to continue living this lie.

I know my decisions are selfish. I know the only person that will benefit from them is me.

I just can’t seem to feel enough to care.

My heart and soul are frozen in time, unable to be thawed.

They’re confined to a time and place when I was happy… a place I long to get back to.

It’s time to put the truth down on paper and prepare to do what I’ve always planned.

It’s time to leave.

I’m finally ready, and the thing is, I’m not afraid to abandon this life and everyone in it. To go find my own happiness and leave the pain behind me.

Except, I won’t just be leaving my pain behind. I’ll be creating it for others. I’ll be shedding light on betrayal and lies while hurting someone I love deeply. I’ll part from the life I’ve been pretending to live before having to accept responsibility for my actions.

I’m a fucking coward.

I know my leaving will cause anger and confusion. I know those emotions will be blended with heartache because of my absence. I just can’t seem to care.

The only thing I care about is her.

I hope she’ll be ok. I hope she finds the happiness in life she deserves.

I know I’ll see her again one day. And when that day comes, I pray she runs toward me with open arms and understanding.

But part of me knows the pain I will cause her is unforgivable.

Which is why I need her to understand the reason I have to leave.

It’s been eight months since I came back home.

Since I stood helpless on the coastline, waves crashing along the shore as the fog broke and a large vessel breached the horizon.

What would seem like a beacon of hope arriving to rescue me from the fiery pits of hell, turned out to be a Charon unwillingly transporting me back to the land of the living.

Even though I was already very much dead.

I break away from my thoughts and look away from the window, eyes burning from my endless stare. Tears glide down my cheeks, imitating the rain against the glass. They’re not tears of sadness, though…they’re tears of relief.

I turn to my desk and rummage through the top drawer in search of a notebook, quiet so I don’t disturb her.

She’s asleep in the next room, and I want to be gone before she wakes up.

I find a pen in the coffee cup on top of my desk and settle into my chair, ready to empty my heart and soul onto this crisp white paper.

These words will hurt more than heal, but they are words I have to say, regardless.

I take a deep breath and prepare to tell the truth I’ve been hiding since I returned.

Dear Katie,

By the time you read this, you’ll already know that I am gone. I’m so sorry Katie-cat, I didn’t want to hurt you this way. You’re my big sister, and I will always love you. But I also need you to know the truth…