Cruel Intoxication (Underground Kings 4)

Opening my eyes, I stare into Owen’s navy-blue ones. He smiles, rubbing his fingers across my jaw where my bruise is. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” I whisper, afraid.

It isn’t him I’m afraid of, but me. Everything inside me is open, raw, and vulnerable. His kindness is making it hard for me to not want to fall into him. I don’t want to have feelings for a man, but Owen is making it so hard.

Would I feel like that if any other man had found me? And cared for me? Showed me kindness and respect that I hadn’t seen in nearly two years? Am I craving attention? Is that all this is that I feel?

My heart is starved for love. It’s soaking up every bit Owen gives, even if it’s out of obligation or friendship. I’m allowed to yearn to be his friend, aren’t I? Even if something inside me, a part beneath the darkness, the fear, and my past, tells me that I’m feeling something more for him than just friendship.

“Come on, let’s go shopping for those boots.” Owen winks. I’ve never been winked at before, so I look away, not wanting him to see the grin on my face. His hand entwines with mine on instinct as we cross the street.

“I’m sorry, sir. But we are closed for a private—”

“They are with us, Selene, it’s fine,” Jaxon says from the corner, guarding an empty wheelchair. I guess Quinn changed her mind.

“Oh, of course. My apologies. I hope you find everything you need.” Selene, the sales associate, opens the door wider to allow us in. She is the kind of beautiful that women see in magazines. Long, silky blonde hair, bright blue eyes, red lips, big boobs, tall and all legs.

And here I am looking like Humpty Dumpty.

Owen could have anyone he wants. Why in the world would I ever think he’d want me?

She’s a model.

I’m wreckage.

“Thank you,” Owen says without looking at her, but she’s eyeing him.

How could she not? He is ruggedly handsome, a protector, the kind of man a woman can’t look away from. I try to untangle my hand from his to break the contact since we’re inside, but he tightens his hold.

“This would look so cute on you, Jolie,” Quinn says, hobbling over as he holds a beige summer dressed that has tiny sunflowers on it. “You should try it on.”

“I … I don’t know.” I try to take a step back, contemplate running away, but Owen’s hard chest stops me.

“I think she’s right,” he whispers in my ear. “You should get a bunch of stuff, try it on, and let us see. Go hang with the girls. I’ll be right here.”

I clutch his hand and shake my head, pathetically asking him to stay by my side. I … I don’t know these people. This wasn’t a good idea. I want to go back to my room and lock the world out.

No, you’ve been locked out of the world. They are trying to help.

Quinn is all smiles as she places the dress against me, the hanger scratching along my collarbone. “Look,” she says, turning me toward the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. “You look gorgeous.”

I can’t focus on my reflection. All I feel is an empty hand.

I’m so pathetic.

I can’t even be thankful to finally have the freedom I’ve been wanting the last year and a half because being alone is now my worst fear. I never want to be alone again, and when Owen isn’t holding my hand, that’s exactly how I feel.

Even with Quinn here, smashing this dress against my body, I feel completely alone, yet my soul is chaotic. Every molecu

le inside me is rebelling against one another. Some are telling me to move forward, some are telling me to trust, and some are telling me to cut my losses and run.

And yet I can’t move.

It’s like who I used to be is paralyzed inside me somewhere, and my feet are superglued to the floor. My inner voice is screaming at me with tears running down her face, begging me to be the person I’ve been wanting to be for the last year.

But I can’t. I don’t know how.

So while on the outside I’m quiet, on the inside, I’m havoc.