Already gone.
I watch as she raises her hand and jams the pills into her mouth. The plasticky outer-coating quickly gives way to a bitter taste. Her face puckers, and so does mine.
She is me, but she’s more than me. She’s all of my hurt and bitterness and suffering personified. She’s the part of me that’s broken beyond repair—used up and dirty, unwanted and unloved. She’s the voice urging me to end it all. I’ve fought her for so long, but now… my fight is gone.
With a flick of my wrist, water pours from the faucet. I lean down and suck the liquid into my mouth, my throat working overtime as I swallow it all down.
With the bottle empty, I collapse back down to the floor, the water still running.
I sit slumped against the tub for God knows how long, waiting—praying—for death. For relief. Time has no meaning here.
A fine sheen of sweat covers me as my vision blurs. My head feels heavy, and my stomach churns as unwanted visions plague me behind my heavy, drooping lids.
“If you loved me you, wouldn’t do this,” I sob as Rob smiles cruelly down at me.
His lips curl into an ugly sneer. “If you really loved me, you’d give freely. Then I wouldn’t have to take.”
But I don’t… I don’t love him.
And because of him, no one will ever love me. Not that it matters. Nothing matters. Nothing about me matters to anyone. I’m a waste of space, wasting away.
I try to laugh at my own morbidity, but no sound comes out. My body sways and I slump sideways, banging my head on the side of the tub.
I struggle against his hold, but it’s no use. “Love is kind,” I whisper brokenly. “And you’re a monster; you’re incapable of love.”
His gaze darkens as his hand around my throat tightens, crushing my windpipe. “And you’re a little bitch. Always walking around here, teasing me.” Rob skims his index finger over the apple of my cheek and I flinch. “You’re pure, but don’t worry, Em. I’m going to dirty you up real good.”
The phone rings again… or maybe it’s my ears.
Who would even call me? Not even Stella, my one and only friend on campus, would care now—Sterling made sure of that.
My heart thunders in my chest.
Someone knocks on the front door.
He’s never taken things this far before. “Rob, please. Please don’t.” Tears stain my cheeks as my pleas for him to stop pour out of me.
I vomit into my lap as the sound of my name reverberates through the house. No, that’s not right. There’s no one—I’m hearing things.
Even though my eyes are closed, I’m weeping. Sobbing for my stolen innocence.
“You’re mine, Em.” He fists my hair with the hand that isn’t wrapped around my throat. “Mine.”
A sob breaks free as he destroys my virtue with just one thrust. Countless tears paint my cheeks as I force my mind to drift away to somewhere better... somewhere safe.
“Emmalyn!” someone—no one—yells as tremors overtake my body.
Only one person calls me that, but he wants me gone, too. I wonder if he’ll smile when he hears the news? It might be the first time I make someone happy.
Someone bangs on the door. “Emmalyn!” His voice sounds crazed, worried even. I must be dreaming, because Sterling Abbot doesn’t give a shit about me.
The door splinters open, and everything goes dark.
Chapter One
Sterling
“How are you holding up, man?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the mahogany bar top. It’s inlaid with satinwood and has the kind of patina where you can’t tell if the wood is centuries old or only made to look it.
My lifelong best friend peers at me over the rim of his crystal glass, a storm brewing in his dark gaze. “Fucking peachy.”
“Self-pity doesn’t suit you.” I’m a shit for being so blunt, but everyone else in Rob’s life babies him. They all treat him like he’s as fragile as a Fabergé egg—priceless and delicate—when really, he’s nothing more than an entitled, over-privileged, and under-supervised son of a bitch.
Be that as it may, the jackass has been my best friend for as long as I can remember.
He shrugs, unfazed by the truth in my words. “Little bitch is trying to ruin me,” he growls. “How do you think I’m doing?”
I spin on my stool to face him fully. “What are you going to do?”
“Simple.” His lips curl up in a devious smile, and he tosses back the remaining whiskey in his glass. “I’m going to ruin her right back.”
“Isn’t Em—she leaving for college?” I almost slip up and say her name. I guess I do coddle him a little, but this is out of self-preservation, because Rob goes apeshit at the mere mention of her name.
“Actually” —he pins me with a cold stare— “I need your help.”
“How can I help?” I regret asking no sooner than the words pass my lips. The calculating gleam in his eye all but promises I’m not going to like what he says next.