Passionate Exchange

Chapter Twenty-Three

I speed down the empty road, gripping the handgrip tighter, not caring that my knuckles are turning white in the process. The thrill that I usually get from this is non-existent. The only thought plaguing my mind is her. The curve of her hips, the softness of her lips, the way she blushes over little things that other girls wouldn't even notice. All I see is her.

Pull yourself together, Archer. I clench my jaw as I weave in and out of cars with no destination in mind. I just needed to get out of that goddamn apartment.

She left with tears streaming down her face. I knew I couldn't follow her after what I said so I turned to the next best thing...punching the wall until my vision blurred and the pain masked the regret. I don't give a shit about what Caleb has to say about his wall. His apartment is a junkyard anyway, I doubt any of the hookers will even notice.

I couldn't stay in that place for long, everywhere I looked reminded me of her broken face. I needed to get out and I needed to do it fast. I hopped on my motorcycle and left.

God, she's messing with my head.

She's not like any of the girls I've met. Most of them only care about ripping their clothes off as fast as possible. Then, after they get what they want, they expect me to stick around and get to know them. I know them well enough already.

They think that I can be their prince charming. Someone who'll carry them out of the school's bathroom and take them to a magical kingdom. What a load of bullshit. Life isn't like that. I used to think it was but not anymore. Life's something you are forced into. Something you survive, not live.

Madison's different to them though. I see it in her eyes, she doesn't believe in all of that fairy-tale bullshit. She's seen the reality of everything and manages to have a smile on her face. She's strong, stronger than I'll ever be.

I push the thought of her to the back of my mind as I get off my motorcycle. I pull the helmet off my head and remove the gloves, ignoring the sting of my knuckles in the process. I deserve this, I deserve all of this.

My gaze raises to what's in front of me, my eyes widening. The realisation of where I am hits me like a punch in the gut. The graveyard. Where people go to wallow in their self-pity. Trust me, I have crates full of that to wallow in. My eyes travel down to the headstone in front of me. All of the air is sucked out of me.

I feel like I'm back there, back when my life ended, and I arrived in hell. She should be the one standing here, not me. Being reminded of what I did every day isn't sufficient punishment. I should be the one buried six feet under. Sometimes I feel like I am.

The freshly laid flowers at her grave form a lump in my throat. They're from her parents. They were always from her parents. They lost their daughter and they'll never forget that. Seeing them around the city rips holes in my chest, each one deeper than the other. She should be with them but instead, she's frozen in time.

Madison told me I was cruel. Standing here reminds me of just how cruel I actually am. Her words still stung no matter how many times I've heard them. Not just because she was saying them but because they were directed at me. Beth would say those words over and over again if she could and I'd let her. They should see me as a cruel monster who destroys everything in its path. How couldn't they see me like that?

I kissed her because I couldn't control myself. I'm weak. She needs someone better than me and that's exactly what she'll get. I had to tell her that it was a mistake to get her to leave. If she wants to be around me, I won't be able to stay away. I need her to hate me. Now she does, she can get on with her life without me in it.

I've accepted that I won't get to see the way her brown eyes twinkle in the sunlight or the way they crease when she smiles. I can't make her happy, I can't make anyone happy. Anyone who comes near me suffers in one way or another. I've hurt her enough, the least I can do is make sure that I can't do it again.

I don't deserve her and she sure as hell deserves someone better than me. All I have to do is get through the rest of the senior year and then she'll be thousands of miles away, far enough for her to be safe from me. I'll be out of her life for good, just as I should be.

I get back to Caleb's apartment and clear some of the empty beer bottles off the sofa, throwing myself onto it and staring up at the ceiling, my hands clasped behind my head. It doesn't take long for my eyelids to grow heavy. After a while, I finally give in, allowing myself to be thrown into the darkness.

*

"What the fuck are those?" A voice rings in my head. The next thing I know, water is hitting my face. The coldness causes my eyes to snap open, they narrow once my vision clears and I see Caleb standing over me with an empty bottle in his hand.

My hands ball into fists at my side, but I don't get a chance to say anything. "You're a dick, I let you stay here when you need to, and this is how you repay me? You put holes in my fucking wall!" He screams.

I don't respond. I can't respond. My brain can't even string a sentence together, not if it isn't about her. I just gape at him. I was right, she's messing with my head.

"Aren't you going to say something? I know that an apology isn't in your vocabulary but-"

"I've made a mistake," are the only words that I can say.

His glare hardens. "You're only just realising this? There's a shit ton of holes in my wall! Do you know how much that'll cost to repair? It'll cost more than I have, that's for sure." He thrusts his hands into his hair in frustration. "You owe me, Arch," he picks up a bottle and throws it at the wall, the shattered glass falling to the floor behind me.

I don't say anything else and neither does he. He throws me another glare before leaving the apartment and slamming the door. More plaster crumbles away from the wall as I stare at it blankly. I've made a mistake.

I saw her fear-struck face, I saw the terror in her eyes. It's not something that I'm going to forget easily.

It all felt so real. I was stood across the street from her, watching her intently as she plastered the cheesiest grin on her face and threw her arms around someone else. Jealousy stirred in my stomach but there was nothing I could do. She was happy. It broke me to know that I'll never see her that way. She'll never be happy around me, no one will.

She didn't notice me watching which I was thankful for. She would have bitten my head off if I came near her again. Being engrossed in her meant I didn't notice the masked figure coming up behind until it was too late.

I wanted to run over to her, forgetting everything I said, and protect her from the dark figure. I wanted to hold her in my arms and tell her that no one will ever hurt her again. I'll always be there to fight them off. But I couldn't do that. My feet were stuck to the ground, I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. It was like hands were wrapped around my ankles, holding me in place no matter how many times I tried to escape.

I had to watch as the masked figure placed a glove-covered hand over her mouth. She thrashed in his hold, but he was too strong. The most messed up thing was that her friend didn't even do anything. She just watched with no emotion. She didn't even care.

I watched as she was dragged into the darkness. At the last second, her eyes connected with mine. She wanted me to help, I could see it in her eyes. She was begging me to save her, but I couldn't. I was stuck in an internal prison that I locked myself in.

That look on her face made me realise that I can't forget her as I told her I could. I told her to forget me too. She should want to forget me, I'm no good for her. But there's a part of me that doesn't want her to forget. I want to fight the demons away and protect her with every fibre of my body. I can't watch at the sidelines while someone else makes her smile. I should be the one making her smile.

With this thought in mind, I push myself up off the sofa. I'm out of the apartment in seconds and taking the stairs two at a time until I get to my motorcycle in the parking lot. "Fuck it," is the last thing I say before I push down the visor of my helmet.