Wreck Me (Nova #4)(51)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

With every ounce of strength I have in me, I flip onto my stomach and stagger to my feet. I make it two steps before I’m knocked in the back of the head. I go down hard, groaning as I slowly turn over, grasping my head. Stars are everywhere and I hate them. Want to scream at them. Want to scream at myself. But I can’t find my voice.

Before I know it, Conner steps up to me and blocks the sky from my sight. “You have no respect for me,” he says as he flips open the blade.

I want to believe, as he stares down at me with such rage and hatred, that he’s high and it’s not him but the drugs that want to hurt me. Deep down, though, I know this could be him. That he’s hurt me before when he was sober. That I don’t know him. That I never knew him.

“Please, just let me go inside the house,” I whisper hoarsely, blinking through the pain radiating in my skull. “Mason could be awake.”

He ignores me, dropping to his knees. “You know, I never knew my father,” he tells me, studying my neck way too intently. “He left before I had any real memories of him, but my mother never told me he was a bad person. She just said that life was hard for him.”

“I don’t tell Mason that you’re a bad father…” I fight for air, but my lungs ache. Everything aches.

His sharp laugh echoes across the field. “Yeah, right. I’m betting that’s all you tell him”—he aims the tip of the knife to the base of my throat and slowly cuts my flesh—all the time.”

He’s going to kill me.

I don’t want to die.

Life snaps inside me. I bolt upright, swinging my arm at the knife and moving the blade away from my throat. Then I lift my knee and slam it between his legs. He lets out a groan as he hunches over and I seize the opportunity to run.

I don’t make it very far before he has me pinned to the ground, face down, so I’m inhaling dirt. I feel so weak beneath his weight. So small. So helpless. There’s nothing I can do and he knows it.

“God dammit, why did I ever go after you?!” he shouts in my ear. At first I think he means tonight, but then he adds, “That night at Zack’s, all I was ever looking for was an easy lay. But you fucking intrigued me and I fucked up. My life is ruined because of you!”

Tears pour out of my eyes as he presses me against the ground, grabs a handful of my hair, and starts chopping the strands off. I let out a whimper as my nails dig into the damp earth, desperate to hold onto something, but the dirt keeps slipping through my fingers as he continues slicing away, bit by bit, until there’s almost nothing left. Only then does he seem satisfied, as if taking away my hair has evened out the fact that he thinks I’ve ruined his life.

When he’s finished, he pushes away off me and rises to his feet as my body trembles. “You deserved that,” he breathes with rage. Then he just stands there as if he’s waiting for me to react. Crack apart. Break. Give him the power he desperately seeks.

I remain motionless on my stomach with my cheek pressed against the dirt and tears dripping down my face. My heart is pounding inside my chest as I breathe in and out. In and out. In and out.

“What? You have nothing to say now?” He seems annoyed by my silence.

I don’t utter a word. Can’t.

“Whatever, Avery.”

I hear his footsteps retreating and I hold my breath, counting each one, until the sound stops. I exhale when I hear a car door open and shut. Then the engine turns on and the tires spin as he peels out of the driveway.

Once he’s definitely gone, I roll onto my back and stare up at the stars. “You said they’d have the answers! That they’d guide me to a better life!” I cry out in desperation. “You lied to me!”

I cry until my eyes are dry and my heart has settled down. Until I can’t feel anything. Until everything is numb.

Until my soul finally gives up.

Chapter 22

The only way is down.

Tristan

I have no idea what day it is or how much time has gone by since I moved out of my house, but it feels like forever ago. I don’t know what I look like. Haven’t spoken to my mother or father in months. Don’t know who I am. I can remember my name. Tristan.

But who is Tristan?

That’s the question I keep asking myself as I sit in my room, staring at the wall, as I try to forget what I just did for drugs. The wall has cracks in it, thin lines threatening to spread and take everything out with it. I wish it would break apart and swallow me whole.

“Dude, what are you on?” Quinton asks as he wanders into my bare room. “And where did your mattress go?”

“I have no idea,” I mutter perplexedly. “And I have no idea.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

He sits down beside me on the floor and crisscrosses his legs, but I can’t remove my eyes from the cracks. The cracks I’m almost certain are going grow and collapse the entire house. And the really twisted part is, I want it to happen. Want to crumble with it. Because the only way is down.

“You didn’t do a speedball, did you? Tristan, look at me.”

I shake my head without blinking. “I can’t.”

He snaps his fingers in front of my face. “What did you take?”

I glance down at the fresh track marks on my arms. My blood veins map my pale skin that cling to my bones. It’s been days since I ate or drank anything, days since I wanted to eat or drink anything.

Maybe I should eat and drink something.

Suddenly, I realize how quickly my heart is racing in my chest. So fast that I need to get up. Now.

I jump to my feet as a surge of energy blasts through me. “I need to get out of here,” I say, stumbling for the door. I can hear yelling from inside the house. It’s probably Delilah and Dylan going at it again. “Need to go somewhere.”

Quinton lunges in front of me, blocking my path out of the room. “We need to figure out how we’re going to pay back our debt for those drugs you stole from Trace. Otherwise he’s going to kill us. You know his reputation—he doesn’t back down.”

“Yeah, but does it really matter?” I glance at the tattoos on his arm—Ryder, Lexi, No One. “We’re all going to die one day anyway, right?”

“Yeah, but you shouldn’t die yet,” he says, placing his arm over the tattoo. “You know, you could just walk away from this. Let me handle it. Let me take… the fall.”

“Whatever, man. I’m not going anywhere.” I reach around him and for the doorknob. “I don’t care enough to walk away.”