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Part 23
It takes a few seconds…minutes…before my brain registers that I have to open the door, turn the doorknob in order to get into the house.
I’m at Joshua’s.
How did I get here again?
Right. Walked…I think.
It’s all a blur. Ever since Logan dropped that bomb on me…everything just went sorta hazy. I’m numb. Numb is good. Numb is better than feeling. Numb is better than hurting. Right?
Tears sting at my eyes but I ignore them. I’m still numb, remember? I’m not hurting. Not yet. Oh, hell.
My hand finally reaches out for the doorknob, turns it…the door swings open, creaking ever so slightly.
I need my bed. I need to pull the covers over my head and just forget…forget everything. I need to lose myself in sleep, at least for a few blessed hours.
I don’t care if it’s the middle of the afternoon, I don’t care that I’m not even particularly tired. I just want…no, need, to escape for a short while.
With everything I’d expected from Alec, everything I’d deep down already known, this…this is just too much to bear. All my fears have been confirmed tenfold.
There aren’t just occasional conquests. He has a girlfriend. A steady girlfriend. He’s involved with someone. Seriously involved.
Does he love her? Quickly, I shove that thought out of my brain. It’s bad enough, even without pondering that particular question.
Anger is better. That bastard. How dare he? How dare he cheat, how dare he toy with me so carelessly, play with my heart they way he has?
God knows I didn’t exactly have a high opinion of Alec to begin with, but I would have never thought that he could be so cold, so heartless.
So callous about other people’s feelings.
About my feelings.
How could he do this to me? Hell, I’m even feeling indignant for M.
Men…they’re all pigs. Heartless jerks, led around life by their dicks, not caring whose heart they crush in the process. They’re incapable of feelings…love, compassion. All they care about is getting laid. They’re-
I see movement in the corner of my eye, whirl around, my heart jumping into my throat.
And there he is.
He’s here. He’s standing in front of me. He was in the kitchen. That’s why I didn’t notice him before, he was in the kitchen. Why am I dwelling on that fact? What the fuck is he doing here?!
This part in me, the broken, hurting part just wants to break down and cry, rant and rave, rage and yell at him for doing this to me. For hurting me so badly that I just want to die.
The other part of me has too much pride to let him see how much he’s hurt me, giving him even more power over me. And so I freeze over, my face cold and hard.
I can’t quite control my eyes though. Damn them. They always give me away.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” My voice is surprisingly strong. And angry…so very angry. Not wavering and weak like I’d feared. It doesn’t break, doesn’t give away the tears fighting to break free.
I still have my anger, my rage to hold on to. You can always draw strength from that. I should know.
It infuriates me to see how casually he’s leaning against the doorframe, munching on a bag of chips. I bought those chips, damn it. How dare he just take them?! Does he think everything in this house is up for grabs?
“Waiting for you,” he tells me, not at all fazed or impressed by my mood. The bastard is even smirking at me in that cocky, arrogant way of his. “Where were you?”
“None of your fucking business,” I hiss. “You’re not my father. I don’t owe you an explanation.”
He scowls at me, the smirk suddenly gone. “Were you at Logan’s again?” I’m not sure if it was even a question or rather a statement.
“What’s it to you?” I ask, trying not to notice the sick satisfaction that fills me at seeing that this actually upsets him.
He pushes away from the doorframe. There’s a spark in his eyes that probably equals mine. I choose to ignore it. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he growls. “I happen to care about you. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”
For a moment my jaw actually drops open, I’m so stunned. Then rage takes over and I begin to tremble.
How dare he?
How dare he keep up this charade, these lies? I narrow my eyes at him, just barely fighting the urge to blow something up…like Alec’s head for example. I feel them again…the electric currents on my hands, my arms. Damn it, they hurt. Will I ever get this under control?
Tears once again gather in my eyes, from physical pain this time, and so I turn around quickly, heading towards my room. I’d rather die before letting Alec see even a hint of vulnerability in me right now.
“Leave,” I growl out between clenched teeth, grateful that you can’t hear that I’m on the verge of tears. I hear Alec following me so I quicken my pace, practically running to my room.
“Liz…”
I slam the door in his face, double lock it. I clamp a hand over my mouth to hold in the sobs that so desperately want to spill out.
“Liz, open the door,” he tells me. His voice is slightly muffled, but I still hear the worry lacing it. Damn him. Damn him for being so good at pretending, at making me believe that he might actually care for me.
And damn that part of me that still wants to believe him.
All these emotions tangle together, the anger and the rage, the hurt and the pain. They turn into this dark cloud, raging through my soul, demanding release. I can’t hold them in any longer and the lamp on my bedside table explodes. Fuck. That was my only lamp.
And as insignificant as that might be, it’s just too much. I slump against the door, sliding down to the floor as I start to cry. Not the angry, desperate sobs from earlier but silent tears full of pain and heartache, streaming down my face in a seemingly never-ending river. I’ve lost all the anger. It’s just pain now…dark and cold, taking over my heart, my soul.
Realizing that Alec is pounding on the door calling out my name, I reach behind me and with the last of my energy, manage to seal the door.
“Go away,” I whisper, my voice weary and pained. There’s no strength left to hide it, no anger to draw the strength from in the first place.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he tells me. Of course he heard me. Damn transgenic hearing. “Now open the fucking door! What happened? Are you okay?”
“Go away.” The concern mixed with anger I hear in his voice just makes me cry harder. Now I am sobbing. Again, I clamp my hand over my mouth to muffle the sounds, to keep Alec from hearing them. I doubt that it’s working. I curl up into a ball right there on the floor, making myself as small as possible. If I do, maybe I’ll just disappear. Fade away.
How can he do this? How can he be like this? How can he be so good at faking concern, faking that he cares about me? What kind of person does something like that? And why do I still care? Why does this stupid part of my heart still want to believe in him?
I wished I didn’t. I wished I could just forget him, forget everything that ever happened between us. Just erase it from my memory.
The way he’s treating me…he’s making me feel like I’m nothing again. He’s robbing me of the little strength and self-respect I still had after everything Max did.
How am I going to survive this? How will my heart survive this? It’s too much…too soon… I just…I can’t deal with this. Not on top of everything else that’s been going on. My powers. Not finding Ava. Alex dying. Max leaving. Tess pregnant.
Oh God.
I’m a mess. I’m an utter and complete mess. How can I ever be whole again? How will I ever manage to gather all the pieces of my soul and heart and put them together again, put myself, my life together again?
I’m so lost, so alone. There’s nobody I could turn to, nobody that could even begin to understand.
Alec’s still here. He’s still telling me to open the door. He tried breaking it open but gave that up again after some time.
Damn him. Damn him all the way to hell.
Why can’t he just leave? Why does he have to keep this up? Is this some kind of game to him? Something he draws a sick kind of pleasure from?
How could I be so wrong about him? How could he fool me so thoroughly?
I should have known. I should have sensed that something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. It was all too…perfect almost. Flawless. Nothing is perfect or flawless in real life. Not in my life anyway. There are always strings, always hang-ups. I know that. How could I ignore that? How could I forget?
After a while I realize that I’ve stopped crying. I guess I don’t have any tears left inside of me to shed. And I’m exhausted. Sleep is creeping up on me and I welcome it with open arms.
Escape. Finally.
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