Ash's Darling | ✔
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- Parts 69
"Mae, show me." He demanded.
I knew this would come up someday. My scars are from years ago when I wasn't happy with myself, or happy with anything really. I'm better now but I still don't like showing them to people. Most people ignore them but I knew once Ash saw them that he was going to ask.
"Mae." He says again.
What if he doesn't like them? What if he thinks they're ugly? What if he hears the story of them and decides he doesn't want me anymore? What do I do then?
...
I slowly took off my jacket and showed him my wrist. "Why would you ever do that darling?"
Tears started forming in my eyes. "I'm sorry. It was years ago when I wasn't happy and it's a long story."
"Darling, look at me." He told me, lifting my chin. "I'm not mad at you. How long has it been since you've done that?"
"Five years."
"That's amazing, Mae."
"You don't hate them?"
"I hate that you felt the need to do that, but no, I don't hate them." He kissed my forehead, calming me down.
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18 + my book has matured content "FUCK YOU! Fuck you, Ace!" I sobbed, the words coming out as a broken mess. I lunged for the handle and flung the door open, desperate for air-desperate for anyone who didn't look at me with that much cruelty. My eyes instantly collided with Carter's. His baby blue eyes were no longer nervous; they were blazing with a protective rage. He stood nearly as tall as Ace, his own ink-covered arms shaking with a fury that matched the man behind me. Beside him, Nichole was shaking, too, her face a mask of pure terror as she saw the state of me. Their expressions shifted in a heartbeat, their gazes darting behind me. I didn't even have time to see the shadow. A massive, calloused hand clamped onto my waist, hauling me backward off my feet with a violent jerk. Ace didn't even acknowledge the two of them; he just ignored their presence entirely and slammed the heavy steel door shut, the bolt sliding home with a finality that felt like a death sentence. "STOP TRYING TO LEAVE!" Ace screamed, his fingers digging into my arm as he hauled me farther into the dark belly of the locker room. I ripped myself from his grasp with a desperate surge of strength, stumbling back. My chest was heaving, my lungs burning as if the room had run out of oxygen. "Maybe I am trying to find someone to prostitute myself out to! Maybe Cox wants to buy me for a night! He needs someone to cheer him up after his fucking loss!" I lunged at him, shoving his chest with both hands, over and over. He didn't even flinch. It was like trying to push back a mountain of stone and ink. I felt like I was being choked, my breath coming in jagged, shallow hitches while my makeup smeared down my face, mixing with the hot tracks of my tears. I didn't know if I was crying because I was outraged or because I was completely devastated; I just knew I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel just an inch of the jagged glass cutting through me right now. (Cover is AI it's fake.)
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