Lie, Baby, Lie ✔️

chapter sixteen- mia

Chapter Sixteen

Sometimes I have trouble processing events as they happen. It's not like I'm deluding myself or anyone into thinking certain things never occurred, but I have a habit of pushing it aside to think about it later.

School is normally my safe place, the one place where I feel at peace. Today, class feels like it's taking a long time to get through. It probably has something to do with the fact I'm meeting Wade.

I'm anxious to see him again. He's my anchor. He's the person who makes me want to wake up in the morning. I've been holding onto the idea of running away all this time, but he makes the present situation better.

I think I'm skipping a little when I walk into the shooting range. Wade hasn't gotten here yet, so I take my place at the stall at the other side of the room and wait for him. I load a new magazine into my pistol, and after I set it back down again, I feel hands slide around my waist. A jaw scrapes against my shoulder where my shirt has slipped down.

"You better be my boyfriend, because if you aren't, I'll make you my next target," I warn.

Wade laughs. "Boyfriend?"

"Isn't that what you are?" I ask.

"I guess so," he says.

I shift in his embrace, facing him. One of his hands slides up my back, bracing my neck as he leans in for a kiss. His lip is rough from the scab where it split, but it doesn't ruin the mood. I like kissing him; I like the way his mouth moves and his tongue dances. He makes me breathless, and as he presses me against the wooden divider separating my stall from another, I realize if we don't stop now, I might need to take him out to my car.

He separates from me reluctantly, stealing one more peck before he puts a decent amount of space between us. I take in his battered face, the purple bruises on his skin, and my stomach clenches as the memory of him being beaten ruthlessly comes back to me.

Realizing what I'm doing, his palm comes over me, covering my eyes.

"I'm not gonna let you look if it's gonna make you sad," he says softly.

"Wade—" I protest softly.

"I don't want your pity," he tells me.

"Too late," I reply. "Please let me see you."

Slowly, he takes his fingers away.

I smooth my thumb along his cheekbone. He's so handsome, even though he's rough around the edges and scary as hell to people who don't know him well. I definitely could drown in the amber of his eyes if I looked into them too long. Wade might be an imposing man with a few tattoos holding a deadly story, but he's more than just one thing. He might have a dark side, but he's also so kind to me, so careful with me.

And he's mine. For better or worse, he's mine.

"What are you thinking?" he wonders.

"I'm thinking that I don't know if I could ever feel this way about anyone else," I confess.

His face grows pensive.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"I'm thinking I could care less about this place," he says. "I'm thinking we should hang out at my apartment."

"Thomas wants me back home around five." I unlock my phone to check the time. "We have two hours."

"I'll take it."

Not a single bullet is fired before we leave. He practically drags me by the hand, his pace much faster than mine. I barely keep up, almost jogging after him. He opens my door for me, and I climb in carefully to avoid pulling at my butterfly stitches.