Borgata - Book II #wattys2016

Chapter 30: Hiatus

WHO MISSED MOMMA???????

Hi, babies!

Sorry about the delay in updates, I've been very busy/stressed with college and work and I've got a lot of exciting but somewhat overwhelming things going on with the Death series! Still, I'll try and get a little bit back on track with updates for the Vendetta series!! ;))))

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 I was locked between nothingness and consciousness as my body twisted out from under the blankets. Distorted images of my father flashed against my eyelids like a plague. His eyes were sunken in and his hands were like claws as they reached towards me.

"You're going to be a whøre, just like your mother."

I let out a silent scream into the darkness of my imagination as I jolted awake, gasping for air.

At first, I didn't know where I was and my heart was trashing. I felt as if I was in my old bedroom and my father was lurking right outside the door with a bottle of liquor dangling from his fingertips. The blankets around me were suffocating. I tugged them off and leaned halfway off the bed, fumbling to flick on a lamp.

The shadows pulled back into the corners as the room lengthened with light. I felt so small and curled my legs up to my chest; rocking slightly to come down from the apprehension the cruel nightmare had given me. As I wiped at my wet eyes with the back of my hand, my attention hitched to the yellow roses on the dresser ahead of the bed, barely in reach of the light, and for a moment, I didn't feel so alone in my own horror show.

But what I did feel was complete and utter shame. Just remembering his confession transformed me into a sobbing mess. "I'm in love with you." The nightmare was forgotten, and all of the repressed emotions from hours before came pouring out. I couldn't believe what I'd done to Fico. He must have felt so humiliated, to finally muster up the courage to express himself and be turned down by an emotionally detached freak.

That was the only explanation for what I'd done to him. I was a freak. Something was wrong with me. He was the sexiest, most interesting man I'd ever met. He put up with my annoying self and was attracted to me when I was at my worst, and I did the same for him. I wanted Fico to be mine and only mine. However, I felt I didn't have it in me to truly love anyone. Love felt so permanent and so dangerous for a girl as cracked as me.

Still, I knew I cared deeply about Fico. When he'd been on his deathbed, I'd felt as if my whole life had almost come crumbling down. He and I had a connection that was beyond words.

My frustration peaked as I looked back up at the gorgeous yellow roses. I wasn't the one preventing myself from falling in love. I was the one preventing myself from admitting it. I was worried that I wouldn't have the strength to recover, if he finally realized how damaged I was, and broke my heart...

"Fück it!" I swore loudly and swung my legs over the bed. I loved Fico. He loved me. And if he realized I was too messed up to be with, then so be it. He'd just have a very, very difficult time getting rid of me.

I hopped of the bed, pulled on a pair of black sweatpants over my plain black panties, slippered my feet, and did what any other sane individual would do.

I broke into Fico's bedroom at four in the morning.

Well technically, I didn't break into his bedroom per se, since the guards ogled my cleavage and let me into the room in without a fight. But if they hadn't let me in, I totally would have broken the lock.