T H I R T Y - E I G H T

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B R E N

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B R E N

The sun was hitting the balcony in sweltering strokes, and I instantly broke out in a sweat as I leaned against the railing. I gripped it, squeezing the hot metal in my hands as I tried to catch my breath. For the first time in a long time, I longed for the chill of Northern California.

If I ever saw Quinton Reid again, I was going to fucking kill him. I was going to fucking kill him, and damn the consequences.

It wasn't that I was surprised that he had hurt Madie like that, not after everything else I'd learned. But knowing exactly when he did it was gutting me. Why hadn't I pushed harder that day to keep her from leaving The Grounds with him? Why hadn't I gone to her room to check on her later? Why did I wait a whole goddamn week before barging into her room to see how she was doing?

Shit, of course he forced her. He'd wanted to get her pregnant. Although at that point, she probably already was. Had Quinton known that she was carrying his child when he raped her?

I didn't care what kind of excuses Madie was manipulated into believing. I didn't care what she wanted to call it. Being pushy with your girlfriend was not fucking okay.

My hands released the railing, shoving off of it with force. I pulled on the ends of my hair, needing to yank on something, to hold onto something.

This was the tipping point. I didn't know how to do this anymore. It was all too much.

The sliding glass door rumbled open behind me, and Madie's quiet voice reached my ears. "Do you not want me anymore?"

I spun around, and she gasped. "Bren." She reached toward me, her delicate fingers soothing over my cheek. "Are you crying?"

Was I? I wiped at the wetness on my face. It could be shower water or sweat, but I knew it wasn't. Those things didn't leak from your eyes.

"I'm sorry," I apologized. "It's ridiculous. I haven't cried since my mom died."

"Bren," she said again, lifting her other hand to my face, cupping it. I wished she'd stop saying my name like that. Why was she comforting me? Our roles should have been reversed.

I pulled her hands away from my cheeks, gripping her wrists in a loose hold.

"Come here." I brought her to a deck chair and pulled her into my lap. Her legs draped sideways over my thighs, her shoulder resting in my armpit as I wrapped myself around her. She was wearing another one of my shirts, but it barely covered her ass, and her nipples peaked through the cotton. I was wretched for the way I wanted her, even in a moment like this.

So I started off by finding her blue eyes and telling her that. "Of course I still want you, Madie."

"You left."

I deserved the sharp way she said it.

"I shouldn't have," I admitted. "I'm sorry. I just needed a minute."

It Burns Within Us | Wildfire Series Book 1Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora