Forbidden Gang Love // Jelena

Chapter 48

Justin's P.O.V.

"Leave us," Selena orders.

They do as she orders and walk out of the room. I can't contrast whether it's a indulging or pathetic sight. This was an aspect in my life in which pride consumed. The fear my presence erupted in those around me; the respect I had . . . I earned from my gang, or any gang for that matter. That has long parted. I'm just the guy who was beaten into a coma. No fear. No respect. It's all gone because of her.

"Are you going to torture me?" I ask, my head hanging as if I were already dead.

I feel dead. None of this feels real. Is it possible that this is my heaven? A life in which a happy ending with Selena is possible, or is this still me living? This isn't a form of truly living. My life is a puzzle and I've lost pieces. Hell, I've lost myself.

She simply ignores my question and pulls out a chair, sitting in front of me. None of us speak at first. I can feel her eyes burning into me but I don't stare back. Instead, I stare straight at the ground in attempt to forget this. My body trembles with such anger, I can't control it. Every cell in my body wants to jump at her and tear her to pieces. Still, I'm not certain my heart could carry out that desire.

She sighs, and places her hand against my cheek softly. "Calm down," she says.

I jerk my face away from her hand. Her warm touch only seems to push that desire further away. I can't have that now. I have a duty to my gang. There is literally lives on the line. I can't risk falling into the arms of this sly woman.

"How did things get so bad?" she whispers, "They seemed so perfect not too long ago."

Slowly, hesitating, I look up into her eyes and see desperation. Why? Is she desperate to find happiness; to live a fulfilled life? After all, that is the cause of all of our suffering. The key to happiness we've been searching for; the reason we started all this. To be content and live in serenity.

Living shouldn't be this hard. It'd be much easier to leave this world of ours. No more war. No more deaths. No more anything. We'd all finally reach contentment. Perhaps these are just the thoughts of a dead man.

"We had so many plans. . . and now, you don't even remember them," she whispers, sullenness dragging down her soft words.

I'm afraid if I speak up, I might lose control. Who knows what I might try to do. Can I even trust myself?

"You don't even remember your own daughter. . . But she remembers you, Justin. I made sure she'd remember her daddy because I knew you'd keep your promise."

Does she believe or even think I want this?! As if its an amazing thing not being able to remember.

She wouldn't be forcing herself through this just for the satisfaction of superiority. How have I led myself to believe she would? Am I the arrogant one? Has the conspicuous truth been before me all this time? NO. I can't go on like this. I can't trust a soul.

"Kill me already," I beg. "I'm so confused. I don't know what to believe . . ."

Her eyes call upon rain and her top lip hides beneath the bottom as she makes her way over to me. I turn my cheek to her and wish to parish into the air. Like a Queen to her throne, she sits upon my lap, one leg on each side, and caresses my jaw. In her eyes are pure sadness. I gaze into her eyes as I did when we would sneak around. It feels like I had just asked her to take me back yesterday. But apparently, by law, I already own her heart.

Do I still want this? Want her? I want to believe what they're telling me. But can I? Or would l be blinded by love and allowing myself to act so foolishly all for a false cause?