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Even if it Hurts: A Toxic Romance Page 3
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Page 3
“You think you can talk to my man? I will break you in half,” she says, giving me a once-over that lets me know she is not impressed with my scrawny ass.
“You have the wrong idea. I was not flirting with your boyfriend. At all.”
She points to the phone. “I have proof, bitch.”
“No. You can’t see my expression from this angle. If you could, you’d see it looks like when you take a big whiff of soured milk. No offense. I’m sure he has his charms, but I don’t see them. I’m guessing a well-meaning friend of yours snapped that and not you because trust me, if you’d have been there yourself, you would not think I was flirting with him. If anything, he was—” I stop myself a little too late, realizing I’ve said too much. Telling her he came onto me won’t make her feel any better.
She takes an intimidating step toward me. “You wanna finish that sentence?”
“Not particularly,” I murmur.
“You think I’m not enough for my own boyfriend?”
“Definitely not.” I shake my head vehemently, not just because I don’t want her to beat me up, but because I hate to think she thinks that. “And I think if he makes you feel that way, maybe he’s not the one.”
She gives me another shove backward. “You need to stay out of my business and away from my boyfriend. If I catch you talking to him again, you’re dead.”
There’s literally no chance of that.
I might say that if she didn’t keep pushing me, but she’s starting to piss me off. “Look, it’s not my fault your boyfriend started talking to me out of nowhere. I have no interest in him. Whatever your friend thought they saw, they were mistaken.”
Kalea smiles, and I can feel trouble brewing. Before I can say another word, she picks me up and hurls me into the pool.
Bodies move swiftly out of the way as I land gracelessly in the water. My arms shoot out, terror seizing me as I plummet beneath the surface, sucking water into my lungs before I can think to close my mouth.
I can’t swim.
I can’t drown, either, so I claw desperately at the water, trying to doggy paddle like I did when I was a kid.
Calm down, calm down, calm down.
It’s a frantic chant in my mind as I get my feet under me at the bottom of the pool. I use them to launch myself upward, then I try to use momentum to get to the surface. I don’t know why it’s not working, if my movements are too choppy, if I’m too panicked. All I know is there’s water in my lungs and I can’t breathe even though my body is begging me to.
I can’t breathe.
My lungs burn and I start to feel sick from the lack of oxygen. I kick and move my arms, but they’re getting heavy. So is the water. Everything feels so heavy, and the panic gets more desperate as my body pleads with me for just one gulp of air.
I’m going to die.
I read once that when your brain is cut off from its oxygen supply, you hallucinate. I guess that’s the only explanation for the dark angel I see piercing the water’s surface, shooting toward me like a bullet. His big, beautiful black wings unfurl and I feel a sense of peace that he’s coming for me.
I shouldn’t feel peace in the moment I lose control of my limbs because even though my thrashing wasn’t making much impact, I know if I don’t fight my way to the surface, I’ll drown.
The surface is too far to reach, and my body isn’t under my control anymore. My lungs are the last to give up. I can’t hold my breath anymore. The impulse to breathe is too all-consuming. I need it.
When I can’t hold my breath anymore, I suck in more water that feels like liquid lead as it fills my lungs.
I know I’m lost.
I feel myself sinking, falling back toward the pool floor as consciousness dips in and out of focus.
I almost hit the pool floor, but then my angel is there. He grabs me and pulls me toward him, then his strong wings wrap around both of us and I’m not afraid anymore.
I could cry, I’m so happy.
She won’t feel afraid.
There’s peace in the last moments before you leave.
It brings me more solace than I thought possible to know this is what she’ll feel when the clock runs out. I was so afraid it would be all sadness and fear to be ripped from the Earth before you’re ready to go, but it’s not.
I wish I could be there with her for all the rest of her moments, but I know she’ll join me soon, and nothing will ever part us again.
If I weren’t in a pool full of water, I think tears would be falling down my face. I curl close to my angel, feel the comfort of his powerful wings embracing me.
I close my eyes as we fly out of the pool and above the house, as we soar up through the darkness toward the heavens.
I feel the stars around us, but I don’t look. I nuzzle my face into the neck of my angel and hold him tight, hoping he never lets me go.
Chapter three
Dare
“Are you guys fucking serious?”
I can’t believe I’m the one to say something.
Me.
I hardly spend my time looking out for anyone else’s well-being, but there is literally a girl drowning at the bottom of my damn pool, and no one is making a move to help her.
An average swimmer might not be able to do much more than toss something for her to grab onto without endangering themselves, but half the seniors on the swim team are here tonight, and we are certainly above-average swimmers.
I look at everyone crowded around, watching the girl thrash wildly at the bottom of the pool. One girl pulls out her phone to record it, but her friend grabs her arm and asks her if she’s fucking crazy.
Scofield from the swim team finally starts to pull off his shirt and move toward the water, but Anae stops him with a sharp, “Don’t.”
I look over at my girlfriend, hiking an eyebrow in disbelief.
She must feel my gaze on her because she looks back innocently. “What? She knows how to swim, she’s just trying to get attention.”
Anae’s fucking crazy, so I don’t take her word for it. I also don’t take her orders like the rest of these assholes, so I peel off my shirt, toss it behind me, and dive into the pool.
The girl is near the bottom when I finally get to her. She’s exhausted her body fighting to get back to the surface. She’s sinking, but I pull her up.
She hasn’t been down here too long, so she hasn’t lost consciousness yet. I’m prepared for her to panic again, to grab at me and try to pull me down with her.
When someone’s drowning and clinging to life, it’s not unheard of for them to drag their rescuer down in their desperation to get back to the surface. It’s animal instinct, a fight to survive. If pulling me down helps you get back up, you’ll pull me down 10 out of 10 times. Anyone who says otherwise is lying to themselves.
I’m not worried, though. I’m the strongest swimmer on the team. If she starts fighting again, I’ll immobilize her and tow her back to the surface, but there’s not a shot in hell she’s drowning me to save herself.
She doesn’t try to pull me down or climb over me, though.
As soon as I bring her in, she hugs me. I’m already caught off-guard, then she nuzzles closer, resting her head on my shoulder.
Before I break the surface, her limbs have fallen away from me and her body has gone limp. Her eyes are closed when I get her head above water, her long dark hair floating like squid ink in the water behind her body.
“Get the fuck over here and help me,” I bark at Scofield and Clemmons.
My orders trump Anae’s, so they hustle their asses over and help me haul the girl out of the water so I can climb out myself.
The girl lies motionless on the tile surrounding the pool.
I’m dripping water all over the fucking place, but I push what I can out of my hair so it doesn’t drip in her face when I lean over her, then I drop to my knees and see if she’s breathing.
She isn’t.
Fuck.
“Should we call someone?” Scofield says, glancing at me uncertainly.
“Oh my god, she’s fine,” Anae says, but this time there’s an edge of nervousness, like it might be occurring to her she’s taken it too far.
Not because the girl isn’t breathing, but because people are starting to question her.
I don’t answer. All my focus zeroes in on the girl and the noise around me dies away.
As a competitive swimmer, I know what to do in a situation like this. I tilt her head back and lift her chin to open her airway. I listen one more time to make sure she really isn’t breathing, and when I confirm she’s not, I position my hands in the middle of her chest and do compressions. After the first round, I pinch her nose, lower my mouth to hers, and breathe my air into her lungs.
I sense the nervousness of the people gathered around increase when I do a few rounds and the girl is still unconscious.
“Come on,” I murmur, pressing her chest, and then leaning down to press my mouth against hers again.
Relief hits hard when her body jerks and she starts coughing up pool water.
I sit back on my legs and breathe a quiet sigh of relief.
That was fucking close.
Even though it’s a hot night, the girl shivers as she tries to regain her bearings.
Glancing at the nearest of Anae’s bimbos, I tell Mallory, “Go get her a towel.”
Mallory’s gaze flits to Anae but doesn’t linger long enough to see whether or not she supports my order. She comes back a moment later with a fluffy turquoise beach towel and hands it to the girl with a meek, “Here you go.”
The girl looks at Mallory for a moment, then snatches the towel and mutters a thank you as she drapes it over her back and pulls the ends around her shoulders.
Finally, the girl’s gaze flickers to me.
She studies my face, a frown creasing her brow. “You’re not an angel.”
A smirk tugs at the corners of my lips. “No, I am not.”
Her gaze flickers to the tattoo covering my right shoulder, a crow with spread wings. She looks down and breathes in, placing a hand on her chest.
Addressing the crowd, I say, “Someone call her an ambulance.”
“No,” she says quickly, shaking her head but not looking at me. “Thank you, but I’m okay now.”
“You still need medical attention. There was water in your lungs. You need to be looked at by a doctor. You could still die.”
“I won’t die,” she says almost dismissively. “I have too much to do.”
“I don’t think being busy is enough to keep you alive.”
She shakes her head, pulling the towel off and trying to stand.
Her legs go out from under her instantly. I’m right there, catching her around the waist so she doesn’t fall.
I pull her into my lap since her little ass doesn’t want to listen. Looking directly at Scofield, I say, “Call her an ambulance.”
“No,” she objects again, struggling to move off my lap.
My cock stirs as she struggles to get away from me, but I ignore the heat kindling low in my gut and lock my arm around her even tighter.
Scowling, she turns her head and looks me dead in the eye. It feels intimate since she’s on my lap, but she ruins it by being mad as hell and looking like a drowned rat.
A cute drowned rat, but a drowned rat all the same.
“You’re wasting your energy,” I tell her. “You’re going to the hospital.”
“I am not. I appreciate you saving me, but you’re not in charge here, and I am not going to the hospital.”
“You are on my property; you nearly drowned in my pool. You are going to the hospital so they can check you out, make sure your poor little family can’t sue my father for your wrongful death, and then we can all get on with our lives.”
Her jaw drops open. “You… you’re just worried about me suing you?”
“My father would be pissed,” I tell her simply. “I’m also of the opinion that dying out of sheer stubbornness is idiotic. Are you an idiot? I’d hate to think I ruined my shoes saving an idiot.”
Fire ignites in her blue eyes. I guess she’s feeling better.
“Let go of me,” she says, clawing at my hands.
“Joke’s on you, mermaid; I like to be clawed at.”
Her wide eyes fill with open horror but her hands still. “What is wrong with you?” Since she’s not getting any help from me, her attention shifts to my girlfriend. “You want to do something about your boyfriend?”
It’s cute that she thinks Anae holds my reins.
Anae doesn’t like admitting she doesn’t, so I’m sure she’s relieved when I take the focus off her by telling the almost drowned girl, “This isn’t that kind of relationship. What’s your name?”
“You don’t know my name?”
“No.”
“I know yours.”
“Of course you do. I’m somebody. You’re clearly not, so… your name?”
“Fuck you,” she says, dismissing me with her gaze and turning on my lap to get her feet on the ground.
I let her go this time, mostly out of curiosity to see if she’ll be able to stand on her own two feet. She wobbles, but regains her footing. She looks frustrated at the reality of not being able to trust her own body just because she nearly died, insulted at the notion that she has such practical vulnerabilities.
She has extremely high standards for herself.
Seems to be stubborn, too. If I let her, she’ll wobble her ass to the car and get behind the wheel, and then if she isn’t as well as she wants to be, she’ll drive off the cliff and into the ocean. I won’t be able to save her, then.
That would be idiotic, and it’s not happening on my watch.
I’m not letting her leave unless it’s in the back of an ambulance.
Of course, since I already commanded it, an ambulance is on the way. I just have to keep her from leaving.
I stand, grabbing her hip to pull her close, then I drag her with me on the way to retrieve my shirt.
“What are you doing?” she demands, looking down at my hand on her hip, her body close to mine.
She misses a step, confused that I’m hauling her with me. She looks back over her shoulder at Anae as if for help. It’s kind of entertaining. Why would she look to Anae to save her when Anae is the one who threw her to the wolves, to begin with?
Not that she knows that, I suppose.
She’s also likely much more normal than Anae, and running things through her normal girl filter, she has to imagine Anae’s not too happy to see her boyfriend with his hands on another girl.
“You never told me your name,” I remind her.
“I’ve decided not to.” She scowls up at me, then peels my hand off her hip.
I let go to grab my shirt, but I grab her wrist before she can get far. She tugs on it trying to get free, but her body has just been through a stressful ordeal. Even in full health, I could easily overpower her, so it doesn’t net her the results she’s hoping for.
“Chase, what are you doing?”
That name on her lips raises my hackles. I give her a sideways look as we walk. “My friends call me Dare.”
“We’re not friends.”
“Everyone calls me Dare,” I amend since that’s more accurate.
“I don’t want to call you anything, I just want to go home. I never should have come to this party in the first place. Let me go,” she says more forcefully as she realizes I’m about to drag her into my house.
“Aubrey!”
I hear someone call out behind me, but it doesn’t attract my attention because I don’t realize that’s her name. She looks back and relief transforms her features, then someone runs up in front of me.
“Hey, Dare, what are you doing?”
Rather than plow through the brown-eyed brunette with the mousy hair, I stop. “Making sure she doesn’t leave before the ambulance comes.”
Janie something-or-other’s gaze flickers to my hand locked around Aubrey’s wrist. It makes her uneasy, but she doesn’t come out and say so. Her tentative gaze shifts to mine and she makes a pitiful attempt at a peace-keeping smile. “I can take over from here. I won’t let her go anywhere. I agree with you, she needs to see a doctor.”
“Janie, no,” Aubrey says, sounding astounded that presumably her friend is betraying her. “I can’t go to the hospital—”
Janie vibrates with, “Shut up and let me save you,” energy. It causes me to crack a smile as she reaches toward my hand, obviously wanting to pry it off her friend’s wrist, but then thinks better of it and meets my gaze, silently begging me to let go so this doesn’t get weird.
I do.
Relief transforms her features as she grabs her friend’s arm and gently pulls her closer. “Oh my god, are you okay? I was inside, I didn’t even know you were here…”
Her friend begins to ramble, but I stop listening. I’m not interested in what she has to say. I’m interested in observing the girl in the striped dress.
If she were wearing literally anything else, the material might cling to her wet body, giving me a good glimpse of her tits and perhaps the rest of her curves, too. Instead, the stiffer fabric retains much of its shape and continues to do its job of keeping her covered up, much to my annoyance.
I don’t get to look for long, anyway. Anae struts over in her Prada sandals and the black, slinky dress that is designed to capture and hold my attention. Unlike Aubrey’s dress that hides her body even when she’s soaked, Anae’s dress drapes and clings strategically so there’s little left to imagine—you know she’ll look as good out of it as she does in it.
And she does.
Anae has a nice body, but a black heart.
I have friends who find that more interesting than I do. People are always fascinated by what isn’t familiar to them. I suppose that’s why it holds no particular interest to me. I already know what it’s like to be heartless and calculating. It’s boring as fuck. Give me something I haven’t experienced if you want to hold my attention.