Ravenous (Steel Brothers Saga 11)

It was a reminder.

It was a security blanket.

Right now I needed it.

Stop.

I could walk to the kitchen. Open the refrigerator. Let the blast of cold air ease the unpleasantness from my mind.

Yes, it would be easier.

Much easier than…

I unzipped the pocket slow

ly and withdrew the sharp razor blade. I sat back down on the bed and regarded the scar on my upper thigh. It was still red, but it had healed. If I left it alone, it would eventually turn white and then gradually fade over the years.

Slowly, I lowered the blade to my flesh.

But the note caught my gaze once more. Why torture myself?

I couldn’t help it. The words called to me like a gruesome accident I couldn’t look away from, no matter how much I didn’t want to see.

Because I did want to see. My rite of self-flagellation. Words would cut deeper than any blade ever could.

So I read them once more. Imagined his low and sexy voice uttering each one.

Marjorie,

* * *

I’m leaving, and I don’t want you to pursue me. I can’t deny our physical attraction, but I have no emotional ties to you. I’ll be working on the ranch and living in the guesthouse, but I’ll stay as far away from you as I possibly can. I need to be alone now. I can’t have my attention diverted by my best friend’s little sister. I need to give everything I have to my new position and to my son and mother. I don’t need an extra distraction in my life. Nothing happened between us, and nothing more will ever happen. You are Joe’s sister, nothing more.

* * *

Bryce

Such stilted words, as if he were addressing an audience of foreign dignitaries rather than a woman he’d just made love to.

A distraction? I was only a distraction?

Joe’s sister? Nothing more?

Such coldness. No sorrow. No pleading with me to understand. Nothing but hurtful and icy words.

Thank God I hadn’t told him I loved him.

Oh, I’d been thinking it. Through all those orgasms, I’d been saying it over and over in my mind.

Once more I let the blade hover over my scarred flesh.

How easy it would be to slice into myself, allow the physical pain to overwhelm the emotional.

No. No. No.

I rose, still naked, and ran into the kitchen. The refrigerator loomed white and tall. My savior. I opened it and stood in the corner between the door and the shelves, letting the cold air waft over me.

My nipples puckered and goose bumps erupted on my skin.