to tell you to call me. I’ll give you a ride anytime you need one. You don’t have to walk by yourself.”
I’m caught off guard and not sure what I should say to that. So I don’t say anything.
“And if you want to take the day off—which I think you should—then you can.”
“I don’t want the day off,” I reply. “I don’t want to sit in my apartment, by myself, thinking about shit.”
He nods tightly as if he understands. And he probably does. Isn’t that the same reason he was just destroying a punching bag? We all cope in our own ways.
“I’m going to take a quick shower before we open. Just yell if you need me.”
I press my lips together, watching him bend over to grab a towel. The agility his body moves with is captivating. He’s just a foot away from the locker room when I call his name. “Link?”
He pivots on his heels, turning to face me. “Yeah?”
“Define need.”
His lips quirk at the corners. His eyes brush over me slowly. “Requiring something important,” he drawls, his voice low and sexy. His tongue sweeps his lower lip languidly. “Do you require something?”
I require that tongue .
The main doors open bringing a rush of cool air into the building. I glance up at the clock on the wall. We’re just minutes from being officially open. When I look back to Link, his searing gaze is locked on my face. His hungry stare makes my belly muscles clench and an ache form between my legs. I think his need might be as great as mine.
“Soon,” he mouths before gliding through the door.
Three
Link
The shower spray cools my heated skin, calming my racing thoughts for the first time since I poured Aaron a shot. I rake my hands over my head, letting the water rinse it all away.
I need to make a choice.
I need to decide what to do with the other names.
I need to, but I don’t want to. What I want to do is bury all this shit deep down inside, and forget about it for five fucking minutes. I press my palms to the tile, watching the liquid trails race down my body.
My hands ache. Even wrapped , I still managed to tear them up. Once I started hitting the bag, I just couldn’t stop. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to. But no matter how hard I went at the bag, that release I was searching for wasn’t there.
I know what could give me peace, if only fleetingly. I know how easily she could erase it from my mind for a few blissful minutes. I remember her taste, hot and sticky on my tongue. And the husky tone to her voice as she moaned my name. I ca n almost feel her fingers grazing my back as she guided me closer.
My eyes close and I stroke my hardening cock. I want to jerk off—pump one out just for my sanity’s sake—but I don’t. I grab the body wash and soap up. I don’t deserve to feel good. I don’t deserve to forget.
Tha t’s the difference between Aaron and me. I didn’t kill in cold-blood. It wasn’t a choice I made lightly. And I won’t allow myself off easily.
I murdered a man. I killed him and I shoved his body into a trunk that I purposely drilled holes in. And then I watched it sink beneath the cold, murky river wa ter as the sun rose.
I hate myself for it. As I should.
I hate myself more for the shame and guilt ripping me apart inside. He deserved it. He deserved to die. I did the right thing. I did it for her. I did it for Livie . I did it for all the Livies. All the Rockys. All the Links.
I should feel justified.
Instead I feel vacant.
And it shouldn’t be any other way. Life is sacred. It should be cherished. Destroying it should not be easy.
At the same time, I know I’m not done.
I’ll do this again. I have to. My whole life has revolved around this for too long. It’s the only path I know.
***
I’m sitting in my car, parked across the street from Anthony’s insurance agency. But unlike my other visits here, I’m not watching him. I’m not waiting for him to slip up. I’m staring at my phone.
It’s amazing what
I’m caught off guard and not sure what I should say to that. So I don’t say anything.
“And if you want to take the day off—which I think you should—then you can.”
“I don’t want the day off,” I reply. “I don’t want to sit in my apartment, by myself, thinking about shit.”
He nods tightly as if he understands. And he probably does. Isn’t that the same reason he was just destroying a punching bag? We all cope in our own ways.
“I’m going to take a quick shower before we open. Just yell if you need me.”
I press my lips together, watching him bend over to grab a towel. The agility his body moves with is captivating. He’s just a foot away from the locker room when I call his name. “Link?”
He pivots on his heels, turning to face me. “Yeah?”
“Define need.”
His lips quirk at the corners. His eyes brush over me slowly. “Requiring something important,” he drawls, his voice low and sexy. His tongue sweeps his lower lip languidly. “Do you require something?”
I require that tongue .
The main doors open bringing a rush of cool air into the building. I glance up at the clock on the wall. We’re just minutes from being officially open. When I look back to Link, his searing gaze is locked on my face. His hungry stare makes my belly muscles clench and an ache form between my legs. I think his need might be as great as mine.
“Soon,” he mouths before gliding through the door.
Three
Link
The shower spray cools my heated skin, calming my racing thoughts for the first time since I poured Aaron a shot. I rake my hands over my head, letting the water rinse it all away.
I need to make a choice.
I need to decide what to do with the other names.
I need to, but I don’t want to. What I want to do is bury all this shit deep down inside, and forget about it for five fucking minutes. I press my palms to the tile, watching the liquid trails race down my body.
My hands ache. Even wrapped , I still managed to tear them up. Once I started hitting the bag, I just couldn’t stop. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Didn’t want to. But no matter how hard I went at the bag, that release I was searching for wasn’t there.
I know what could give me peace, if only fleetingly. I know how easily she could erase it from my mind for a few blissful minutes. I remember her taste, hot and sticky on my tongue. And the husky tone to her voice as she moaned my name. I ca n almost feel her fingers grazing my back as she guided me closer.
My eyes close and I stroke my hardening cock. I want to jerk off—pump one out just for my sanity’s sake—but I don’t. I grab the body wash and soap up. I don’t deserve to feel good. I don’t deserve to forget.
Tha t’s the difference between Aaron and me. I didn’t kill in cold-blood. It wasn’t a choice I made lightly. And I won’t allow myself off easily.
I murdered a man. I killed him and I shoved his body into a trunk that I purposely drilled holes in. And then I watched it sink beneath the cold, murky river wa ter as the sun rose.
I hate myself for it. As I should.
I hate myself more for the shame and guilt ripping me apart inside. He deserved it. He deserved to die. I did the right thing. I did it for her. I did it for Livie . I did it for all the Livies. All the Rockys. All the Links.
I should feel justified.
Instead I feel vacant.
And it shouldn’t be any other way. Life is sacred. It should be cherished. Destroying it should not be easy.
At the same time, I know I’m not done.
I’ll do this again. I have to. My whole life has revolved around this for too long. It’s the only path I know.
***
I’m sitting in my car, parked across the street from Anthony’s insurance agency. But unlike my other visits here, I’m not watching him. I’m not waiting for him to slip up. I’m staring at my phone.
It’s amazing what
Similar Books
