"Grace," Avery calls after me. "Let me explain."
I try to zone him out, focusing only on getting to my bedroom.
My room is safety.
My room has a lock on the door.
I have go to get away from him.
In my attempt to press him out of my mind, I don't realize that he's gaining on me.
I'm only a few feet away from my door when his hand encircles my wrist, spinning me around.
"Get your hands off of me," I growl, wriggling in his hold. It's not until now that I realize I have tears rolling down my cheeks.
"Grace, It's not what it looks like," he quickly says.
"I think it's exactly what it looks like," I hiss, trying to free myself from his hold.
"Just hear me out," he pleads.
"It doesn't look like I have much of a choice," I grumble, blinking tears back. "I have to say, Avery, I don't appreciate being manhandled."
"She kissed me."
Despite my pathetic crying, I snort. "It didn't look like you had too much of a problem with it. Your hands were all over each other. God knows what would have happened if I hadn't walked in."
"I was trying to push her away."
A small sob escapes my lips.
Not because I can still see his lips on hers in my mind.
Not because I know that we'll never be the same.
A small sob escapes my lips because I gave him the power to hurt me like this.
A small sob escapes my lips because I'm starting to remember why I don't let people in.
People hurt you.
"I don't care," I whisper, shaking my head. "I can't deal with this right now. Please, just let me go."
"I can't," he says. "I have to make sure you're okay. I can't leave you alone, I have to make sure that-"
He cuts himself off, but not before his gaze flits down at my wrists.
I pull myself free of his hold, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand.
"You have to make sure that what?" I ask, my voice passive agressive. "That I don't try to slash my wrists? Please, don't patronize me. I only ever cut when I needed to feel something, when I needed to feel pain."
I focus my gaze on his, my eyes narrowing. I try my best to look harsh, but the tears streaming down my face give away how much I'm hurting.
"I'm already feeling enough pain without the help of a razor," I whisper, my voice accusing and cold. "You have yourself to thank for that. Now, If you'll excuse me, I'm going to my room."
I turn to leave, and he grabs me by the wrist once again, spinning me around.
"Let me go," I growl, stomping on his foot.
He drops my wrist, but takes hold of my upper arms before I can turn away.
His grip on me is so tight that I yelp in pain.
His eyes widen in regret, but he doesn't let go of me right away.
He doesn't let go of me until a familiar blonde blur flies in between us, seperating me from his painful hold.
"Jesse," I breathe out in relief.
He doesn't look at me, his gaze remaining on Avery.
"Jesse, this doesn't concern you," Avery growls.
YOU ARE READING
Recovery
Teen FictionBOOK 1 OF RECOVERY SERIES Grace Adams has battled with depression for the majority of her life, but her best friend Chey always kept her sane. But after Chey disappears from her life, Grace completely loses it, falling back into all of her old habit...