Because I wanted him to see me. All of me. To understand that he was the only one I ever wanted to see me this way. That all of this should have belonged to him and I never should have given it away.
Regret filled up every crevice of my heart, and I wished . . . wished it’d been him, that the first time I’d had sex it hadn’t been all a ploy to bring me to my knees, just a wicked game played by wicked boys.
I wished I’d been cherished.
Loved.
Like I was sure Darryn was loving me now.
Darryn moaned as he grabbed me by the hips, pressing me firmly against him. “Can’t wait to be inside you.”
All that energy fired, pinged across the confines of my room, and clashed in an all-out war with the hurt of this afternoon. Everything felt so heavy and light. Blinding.
I wanted Darryn to take it all away.
I rocked over him, and on a ragged hiss, he gripped me tighter. Darryn pinched his eyes closed as if he’d been tripped, caught somewhere in his own painful thoughts.
“Wanna kill him, Misha . . . wanna hurt him for making you feel this way. For making you think you need to be ashamed.”
His words slammed into my consciousness. Images flashed. Me in a position so much like this, my breasts bared and my head thrown back.
I knew what it looked like in the video. Like I was lost in passion, like I’d wanted to be exposed, set on display. Like I was desperate for attention.
But I’d been in pain, both physically and emotionally. It had been my first time and Hunter had just rammed inside me before I was ready, after he’d persuaded me to ride him because he said that was the only way he liked it.
All of those warning bells had been going off, and I knew something was so off, because I didn’t feel loved or safe.
The worst part of it all was that he’d convinced me to let him take a picture. At least that was what I thought it was, because he’d actually been recording me.
A bet that he could get a virgin on top and a picture to prove it.
That’s all it’d been. A joke.
Horrified, I felt like every cell in my body froze, before it began to shake uncontrollably. I fell forward, keeping myself braced on the strength of Darryn’s chest before I crumbled.
I wanted to blink away the image, to assign it to coincidence.
But there was no mistaking Darryn’s words. He said he wanted to kill Hunter . . . for making me ashamed.
Darryn knew. He’d lied to me.
His eyes flew open as if he’d just realized the slip he made. He looked up at me with panic strewn all over his face.
“What did you just say?” I demanded, dread whipping through my entire being, a cold chill biting my skin.
I shivered and did my best to swallow down the nausea that rushed up my throat.
Rapidly, Darryn blinked and shook his head, as if he were searching for something to say.
For an excuse.
Oh my God.
No.
I scrambled in an effort to get away. Darryn grabbed my wrist, trying to yank me back onto the bed, but I jerked it away and fell to my knees on the floor. “Don’t touch me. Don’t you dare touch me.”
I fisted the edge of the sheet and ripped it from the bed, clutched it to my front as if it could shield me from all the pain that tore me in two. Violently.
If I thought I hurt this afternoon? Or that night months ago when Hunter had stood there, laughing at me, taunting me, telling me I was nothing but a fool?
It didn’t come close to touching this.
I forced myself to climb to my unsteady feet, backing into the wall with the thin sheet crumpled in front of me.
Darryn slowly stood from the bed but stayed there at the edge, his shoulders dropped low as if it would give him some sort of edge, fool me into thinking he wasn’t just as vicious as the rest of them.
“You knew?” I begged through a whisper, praying he’d deny it, all the while knowing if he did, it would be another lie.
His throat bobbed heavily as he swallowed, and he nodded. “Yes.” The word was rough and ripped through my soul.
A cry shot from my throat before I could stop it, and I slammed my hand over my mouth, trying to keep it in.
But there was no keeping this heartbreak from pouring free.
“Misha . . .” He took a step forward. “Listen to me. I knew, yes, but—”
“Just sh-sh-shut up. Shut up!” My voice cracked. “I c-c-can’t believe you’d do this to me. C-c-can’t believe you’d stoop so low.”
“Misha,” he pled, taking another step forward. “It’s not what you think.”
“Did you bet?” My chin quivered with the question.
Remorse made a slow pass through his body, and he shook his head. “No . . . of course not. But I need to be honest with you . . . I was there the first night he made the bet with all the guys.” He swallowed again. “And I was there two days later when he brought the video over. I watched it with them.”
Agony twisted up my face, and I attempted to take a step back, but only backed into the wall. “Y-y-you . . . you were there? You laughed with them? While they made me a joke?”
Was that the kind of guy he was? Just as cruel, just as mean as the others?
“No” flew from his mouth. “Never. The night the bets were made . . . Hunter was drunk, spouting off his mouth like he always does. He started talking shit about how easily he could have this new girl he started dating, claiming you were a virgin. Then he showed us a picture of you and you were so sexy. Beautiful. And I thought there wasn’t a chance that you hadn’t been with someone before. I didn’t believe him. I just thought it was more of his stupid games, so I didn’t give it a second thought. All the rest of the assholes at the party tossed in money, saying he didn’t have a chance with you. It got out of hand . . . all of them started throwing out different things he had to make you do.”
And I could feel my heart crumbling. Splintering into a thousand pieces.
“Two days later, he brought over his proof. I tried to talk him out of it when he loaded the video to that site.” He squeezed his eyes closed. “But once it was there, I couldn’t stop watching it because there was something about you that drew me to you. Then when I saw you out front that day, I knew you were nothing like any of those guys played you out to be.”
I felt so dirty. Filthy. Like I could feel it crawling all over the surface of my skin. I wanted to scrape it away. “Get out,” I said as firmly as I could, feeling my heart cracking a little more. Because I had thought he was different. I had wanted him to be different.
“Misha . . . please. I’m so sorry.”
“Get out!” I repeated. “Get out!” I screamed.
Darryn winced, then backed away. He started for the door, paused to look back at me. “I fell in love with you, Misha. I’m sorry it all started at the hands of an asshole. But I’m not him. And you are definitely not that girl.”
He just stood there. So beautiful.
I wanted to believe him.
But he was dishonest. A liar. And he had made me out to be a fool. Again.
“Go,” I whispered quietly, but there was no question he heard.
He nodded, then stepped out my door.
chapter thirteen
Misha
Indy jerked the covers down. Bright light burned my eyes, and I grappled for the end of my comforter and dragged it back over my head.
“Come on, get out of bed, you have got to stop moping around,” she said.
I groaned a little more, securing the blanket tight around my body. “No. And I’m not moping.”