Page 104 of Empire of Lust

Font Size:

Page 104 of Empire of Lust

Before my brain can completely melt, I scramble out of bed, still wrapped in a blanket, and take off running. My feet slap against the hardwood as I race past the guards. I don’t look at their faces. I can’t. I’m too ashamed. This is something I want to end.

He wants me to go to my room and get dressed? That’s what I’ll do, because I will not sit around and watch my life crumble to pieces.

Lies. So many lies. About him, about her, about their marriage. Now he’s making it sound like she had something to do with Lucas coming apart like he did. Whether or not that’s true, he could’ve told me.He should have told me.If Lucas needed help, I could have reached out to his parents. I could’ve done something.

In the end, it’s all about him. What he wants, who he wants. There I was, telling him I’d have his baby, and he held all these secrets in his hand.

It will never get better. I feel the truth of it in my soul. He will never stop being who he is. Loving him isn’t enough. Nothing ever will be because nothing will change who he is at his core. Secretive and manipulative. Violent and dangerous. The lengths he’ll go to get what he wants are never-ending. At least I’m seeing it now and not when it’s too late.

The desire to wake Tatum in the bedroom next door and tell her what happened consumes me, but there’s no time. I’ll have to do it later. After I’ve gone to Dad’s, which is the only place I can go now. It’s the only place I want to be because at least there I’ll have somebody who really loves me, who doesn’t lie and use.

Stupid. I’m so stupid.I was so desperate for love after years of being treated like I wasn’t important that I looked the other way over and over, first with Lucas and now with Callum. I can barely see with the tears by the time I reach the bedroom and lock the door.

My heart is going to burst out of my chest. The pain is so intense it scares me. I don’t want to leave, but I have to. Getting out of here is my only hope. I need to do this for myself.

Even though I love him. He turned me into the other woman, and I still love him. I’m just as fucked up as he is. No wonder I was always drawn to him.

Once again, I pack my things, this time taking every last item that belongs to me. I might have left a few things back in Tatum’s room before I moved my stuff out for her return, but she’ll get it back to me eventually. I don’t even care right now. Nothing matters more than putting this behind me. Living with an overbearing parent sounds like heaven after what I’ve gone through.

He made me into the girl I didn’t want to be. Stupid, naive, so easily led on. I never thought to question whether their divorce was final. Tatum never mentioned it. Why didn’t I ask? Would he have told the truth if I had?

I know the answer, and it makes my molars grind together even as I heave with sobs. Stupid, stupid girl. My little crush ruined my life.

Not just mine. Lucas’s might have been ruined, too. Like we were both pawns.

Another broken sob bursts out of me, and it’s almost enough to make me crumple on the bed. I’m exhausted, body and soul.

Just a little longer. I only need to put up with this a little longer until I’m home. Then I can cry for days if I need to.

No. I go back to work tomorrow. Somehow, I have to pull myself together. Maybe that’s for the best. I need something to take my mind off of all of this.

There I was, imagining our future.

And he did this to me. I’ll never forgive him, just like I’ll never forgive myself.

Instead of trying to sneak out once everything’s packed up, and I’ve put on shorts and a tee that don’t even go together, I fling the door open and march down the hall. I still hear voices shouting somewhere else in the house, the sound bouncing off hardwoods and high ceilings.

He’s still fighting with her, distracted. That’s one good thing that’s come out of this.

Because I’m not sure I’d be strong enough to leave if he found me right now. I know he’d talk me out of it. I should thank her for setting this up. The thought makes me laugh—high-pitched, shrill—as I jog through the front door and out into the courtyard. Her car must be the bright red Bugatti. It’s completely vulgar, just like her.

I don’t care. Let them have each other. I only feel sorry for Tatum, with a pair of fucked up parents who only want to hurt each other. I wonder if I was just another way for him to hurt her. A chess piece in an endless game.

No, I’m not going to do that to myself. And even if it’s true, what’s the difference? It’s over now. It should never have started.

I climb into my car and toss all my stuff onto the passenger seat. My hands are shaking, and it takes me a second to get the keys in the ignition. The headlights from the car shine bright in the distance. My heart breaks a little more as I drive down the driveway.

I need to calm myself down before I get home because I know Dad’s going to ask a million questions if I stay this distressed. Maybe I’ll tell him I had a fight with the imaginary friend I was staying with, something simple. He’ll pat me on the head and tell me everything will be okay in the morning, and I’ll pretend I believe him. Whatever works.

Anything, so long as he never finds out the truth. I couldn’t bear his disappointment.

And as much as I loathe Callum now, the thought of my father doing anything to punish him for hurting me is one I can’t handle. I won’t be the vindictive, scorned woman. I won’t let Callum drag me that far down.

It’s around nine o’clock by the time I pull to a stop in front of the modest house I grew up in. It was the best we could afford. Mom would have liked something bigger, but when he was demoted from detective lieutenant to a regular detective, it meant taking a pay cut.

I can do this.That’s what I have to keep telling myself as I pull my things from the car and carry them up the front steps onto the creaking porch.I can do this.I’ve gotten better at lying to Dad, haven’t I? Not exactly something to be proud of, but it’s what I need to fall back on now.

The lights are on in the living room, and I can hear the TV blaring inside as I fish out my key. “It’s just me!” I call out in a fake, cheerful voice as I open the door. You don’t want to burst in on a detective who keeps a gun in the house. That’s a good way to get shot.




Top Books !
More Top Books

Treanding Books !
More Treanding Books