Page 14

Whatever is going on, it’s not good.

Could it be my ex’s brother? He did vow to get his revenge for putting Ronny behind bars.

No. If it were, he wouldn’t help me in any way.

My brows furrow deeper. “It couldn’t be...” No. There's no way it was them.

Because that night wasn’t real, they’re not real.

But... if it was... if they are...

“No.” I shake my head. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

I climbed out of my truck and walked home. That's how I got back. And I’m refusing to believe otherwise.

Just in case, I think I’ll give Minny, my therapist, a call in the morning and book another appointment with her.

And tell Boomer to take his overtime and shove it up his ass because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep working myself to the point of a mental breakdown.

Thank fuck it’s my day off tomorrow. I need the weekend to recover from... whatever the fuck happened last night.

Chapter Six

Cove

By some miracle, summer decided to come out and play. Olivia asked if I wanted to go to the beach with her, so we spent a few hours in the sun.

There was no covering up the state of my face, so I told Olivia about the accident.

What I didn’t tell her was that I have no memory of how I got home or where the hell my truck is.

Still, it was fun. I don’t think I’ve been that happy in a long time. It was nice spending real time with my best friend. Watching Tyler fuss over her, making sure she was taken care of—no matter what it was she needed—filled me with longing, though. A feeling that I’m not a big fan of.

The two of them are so in love it’s gross, but in the best way.

It made me think about how much I want that, too.

Then I was reminded how messed up in the head I am, and wondered if it’s even worth it.

Is there a man out there who can handle my baggage? Sleepwalking, occasional nightmares, my PTSD?

Would I even be able to trust a man again after what happened to me? Or will they turn out to be just like my ex?

When he found out some of the things I was into, I thought he would judge me. Call me sick, weird, or gross. I thought he might say that I needed mental help. All of which are things I’ve considered.

He surprised me by being open to it and trying some of the things I wanted to explore.

We started with a few kinks. Bondage, spanking, light choking.

I loved it all. And the sex was amazing.

As time went on, he became more aggressive. It got to the point that when he would get stressed out at work, or mad about something, he’d take it out on me.

He’d use my sexual kinks as an excuse to let go of his anger.

When I told him to stop, not to be so rough, or told him that he was hurting me—and not in a pleasurable way—he’d lash out. He’d tell me it’s what I wanted, so I should just take it.

And I did. Even though I hated myself afterward.