Shame (Ruin 3)

Don’t roll your eyes. You don’t know my pain. You don’t know my story. You don’t know the hope I’ve held in my heart for years. Hope that one day I would be different. Hope that one day the person I chose to give my heart to would see me as beautiful, pure, like the snow. And wouldn’t look at the darkness and walk in the other direction.

“Tristan?” I sniffled. “Say something!”

“You want me to say something?” he sneered. His blue eyes might as well have been steel as they pierced through every inch of my body. “Fine.”

I braced for impact.

“I hate you.” He said it slowly as if he wanted me to hear each word and commit it to my memory. “I love you.”

“What?” Tears fell across my lips. “What did you say?”

“Both.” He put his hands on his hips. “I feel both.”

I took a tentative step toward him. “Which wins?”

?

?The one you give power to,” he said seriously. “The one I choose to give power to.”

“Love?” I begged, pleaded, my voice hoarse.

Tristan’s smile was sad as he took a step back and gave his head a solid shake. “No, sweetheart. I’m sorry, but no.”

He left.

Hope died in my chest.

I stared down at the ground, closing my eyes, wishing for snow, wishing for a do-over. Wishing I could go back and make the footprints straight in the snow, wishing I wouldn’t have chosen death.

But that’s the thing about choices; you don’t regret them until after they’ve been made. It may be a second later, or a year.

Shame always comes.

And you’re about to know mine…

CHAPTER ONE

Simple fact about me: I get bored easy, and she was an easy target. Young, beautiful, with the fiery eyes of a temptress. “Impress me,” I’d say, and she’d laugh and go about doing exactly that. My body liked it, my mind craved it. She forced the demons down better than any drug, and I freaking worshipped her for it. —The Journal of Taylor B.

Lisa

I RAN BACK TO my dorm and nearly collided with the door before I was able to grab it. I hated having to dig through my purse to find my stupid key card; it seemed like it always hid for at least ten minutes while I pulled out my keys, my wallet, my gum, my cell, that little tiki key fob I still hadn’t added to my main ring of keys yet. I mean, the list went on and on and on. Finally, of course, I’d realize I kept my key card in my back pocket only to have stood in front of the damn door while it rained!

Ugh. College.

I took the stairs two at a time and unlocked my dorm room.

“Loser pants,” Gabe said from the couch without looking up. “You left your door open again.”

“I gave you a key.” I rolled my eyes.

“You gave Saylor a key,” Gabe grumbled. “I had to freaking steal that thing, make like seven copies, and return it.”

“Seven?” I put my bag on the counter and walked around to the mini-kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “Why seven?”

“Fun story about marriage.” Gabe thrust his finger into the air as if letting me know he was about to make a speech. Though by now I knew his speeches bordered on inappropriate most the time; hence the dread pooling in my stomach. “Saylor loses everything. It’s like sex…” He paused. “Sex with me, mind you, not any other dude because let’s be honest, when it’s from me, it’s just—”

“Gabe,” I sighed. “Get there faster.”