Broken Shreds

Chapter Eight - Never Let Ye Get Hurt Again

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❝Fight for the fairytale,
it does exist... ❞
— Unknown

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CHAPTER 8

> SEVEN <

I FOLLOWED HER.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew I fucking shouldn't. Pursuing her further would most likely prove to be the worst thing to ever happen to her. But letting her walk away from me just like that was hard enough and now I'm, what, supposed to forget everything about her?

Not a fucking chance.

She's probably scared right now, thinking that Morgan's father is still alive and looking for her. I should've told her that I'd killed him and he wouldn't hurt her ever again, but I didn't. Something inside of me likes the fact that she's dependant on me, on my protection. That she needs me in such way. And if I'd told her that she can go and no harm would befall her, she'd have immediately left, without looking back.

And now she has. It has nothing to do with Morgan and everything to do with me.

I scared her away. After she'd patched me up and taken care of me like no one ever had - I'd succumbed to my own desires in a short moment of weakness.

I'd touched her. Rubbed her onto me, silently hoping that she'd leave something. A mark, a scratch, fucking anything. Anything for me to carry with me to dissolve this numbness when she's not around. Because with her, I am feeling. Feeling these emotions I haven't in years and it feels... good. But at the same time, it's all fucking with my mind to the point of me losing my control not only once but twice in only matter of days.

I haven't lost control in years, either. But it happened the first time I met her, when I'd beat Morgan's body unrecognizable and now, when I'd touched her.

She's so small and fragile, I outweigh her by hundred pounds. But there's something hot about her being so small compared to me. Her frailness turns me on like nothing else. Fuck, everything in her turns me on.

The way she'd moaned, throwing her head back and grinding onto my hard cock. The way her cheecks were flushing pink, her breath hitching and getting heavier by the second. Her tits bouncing and touching me with every move of her hips. I hadn't kissed her nor felt her in any other way, but I bet that if I had, I would've found her pussy hot and sleek, all ready for me.

I want her like I've never wanted anyone and it's obvious that she wants me, too. That fact itself is disarming. I have so little to offer her. I can protect her and keep her safe. I can kill for her. But a girl her age needs more, I know that. I also know that they're things I can probably never give her.

Despite that, there's something in her - something that keeps calling for me to own her, take her to myself and keep her that way. Keep her mine. I shouldn't. But I do not care.

So I followed her. I let her go, but I followed her. I watched as she took a cab and left, without looking back.

Is she so ashamed of what we did? Or is it my reaction that drove her away?

I had to put a stop to what we were doing. It took every ounce of my self-control and then some, but I had to do it. I couldn't let things progress to the point of no coming back. Yes, I want her, but if I ever took her, it would be the beginning of the end for her.

Because I know once is not enough. Taking her once would be like dosing fire with gasoline in hopes of calming the flames down. But instead, it would only ignite them further and let them burn everything on their way.