Toxic (Ruin 2)

> I scowled. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Tell me your story,” Wes said smoothly. “Not when it’s your last option — but when it’s your first. Don’t come to me when you’ve finally used up every ounce of strength you have to push me away and lie. Come to me when I’m your first choice. Because right now, you’re not ready and I’m about five seconds away from knocking you on your sorry ass.”

My breath came out in a gust as if he’d just punched me in the stomach. Where the hell did he come off saying those things to me? I wanted to yell, to scream, but when I opened my mouth only a croak escaped.

Wes slapped me on the shoulder and walked toward the door. With his hand hovering over the handle, he turned and said, “By the way, your dad’s been looking for you.”

“How—”

“I took care of it. I was at admin when he stopped by and made sure he was satisfied with the lie. But Gabe… your time’s up. You need to start thinking about how you’re going to handle this — if at all. Running isn’t the answer, but neither is exposing that poor girl to that life again. Just… make a decision and know that when you do. I’ll be ready to listen.” With that, he walked off, making me feel like even more of an ass than when we started.

Shit.

I hated that he was right almost as much as I hated that I was wrong. Damn it! I kicked the brick wall with the toe of my boot over and over again until I thought my toe might have broken.

“Easy, killer,” Lisa said, coming up behind me. “Walls don’t fight back.”

“Go away.” My voice shook.

“Wes texted.”

I groaned, what? It took him two seconds to text Lisa and tattle? Awesome.

“Wes needs to stay the hell out of my life.”

“Ash—”

“Don’t.” I shook my head. “Just don’t, Lisa. I can’t. Not right now.”

“We’re family.”

I laughed out loud at that and looked at her straight in the eyes when I said, “Funny… the first lie we told.”

Chapter Eighteen

What had I ever done to him? Besides listened to him beat the crap out of a piano and open a stupid window? Nothing. Gabe was bad news — bad, bad, news. He was a thunderstorm and he’d caught me without an umbrella. —Saylor

Saylor

I took the stairs two at a time, fighting tears the entire way. I didn’t want Lisa to see me this way. And I sure as heck didn’t want to cry actual tears over an asshole like Gabe.

Sure. I knew I wasn’t supermodel caliber, but did he have to say it that way? Did he have to be so harsh? Hot embarrassment washed over me all over again. His face — it was complete and utter revulsion. Like I smelled and carried some sort of incurable disease.

My chest hurt.

I hated that feeling. I’d spent way too long with that feeling when I was young. When Eric cried all the time, it made me cry because I was helpless. I couldn’t help him. He was lost in his own mind, unable to differentiate between someone wanting to help and someone hurting him. At the time, we hadn’t known it, but he’d been suffering with a sensory processing disorder on top of everything else.

It had been a while since I’d cried.

My tears even tasted bitter. Did it matter what Gabe thought of me? So he thought I was ugly. So he hated me. It meant nothing, right?

Except for some reason he was stalking me.

Well, not really stalking, but when I’d left the Home earlier that day I was told that Gabe had free reign over the entire property, and that if I had a problem I should just ask Gabe.

As if it was the easiest dang thing in the universe.

Just asking Gabe was akin to walking into the It’s A Small World ride, and then not having the song stuck in your head for the next twelve hours.