Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

if we always remained enemies, it would be better because I would at least have the consolation that he was somewhere out there, alive. But this…this…

“Please.” My voice was no more than a whisper, carrying the sorrow that pulsed through my whole being. I kept my eyes firmly closed, afraid to look at him because if I did…I would break down, and I didn’t want to break down. Blake was right. Making love to him had only made things worse, but breaking down…breaking down here in front of him would taint the time we’d spent in each other’s arms, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Please reconsider. You don’t have to kill them to get your revenge. The cops can arrest them, and I’m sure they would receive a maximum sentence. They would rot in prison.”

“I don’t want them to rot in prison. I want them dead.”

“But don’t you see how much it poisons you? I understand that you want them to pay, and they should pay, but why do you have to put yourself through something horrible for the sake of revenge? Think about Emma. She wouldn’t want you to destroy or sacrifice your life to—”

He pushed away from the window. “Stop. Don’t go there.” He sat on the edge of his bed. “Don’t.”

I closed my lips and looked at the moon. A tear slid down my cheek, but I brushed it away quickly and took a few deep breaths.

“I have to avenge her. She died because of me.”

I darted to him. “Don’t blame yourself, Blake. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t kill her. They did.”

He clasped his head with his hands and placed it between his knees. “They wouldn’t have killed her if I’d listened to them.”

“That’s debatable, and you know it.” I sat down on my knees in front of him and laced my cold, trembling fingers through his hair. “They wouldn’t have killed her if they hadn’t already considered it. They were thugs. Lowlifes. Her death is on their hands, not yours.”

He raised his head to look at me, and my heart twisted at the tears on his face. He swept them away, but it did nothing to prevent the new ones from collecting in his eyes. “You think I haven’t told myself that? You think I haven’t tried to get rid of this fucking guilt? But no matter how I phrase it in my mind, the result is always the same. She wasn’t supposed to die. She wasn’t supposed to get fucking kidnapped, raped, and killed!”

With a soft cry, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him into my embrace, pressing his head against my shoulder. It took me a lot not to cry myself, but I had to be strong for him.

“There’s no other way for me, Jessie.” His whisper was final, punching the permanent pain into me. I couldn’t do or say anything to make him reconsider.

I held him until his shivers and tears stopped, remaining silent. I checked my phone for messages and found a few from Mel and Sar.

“Mel and Sar are waiting for me at Mel’s place. We’re having a sleepover.” I finished the sentence with a dose of uncertainty, leaving it open for him to tell me I could stay.

I wanted to stay. I was afraid to leave him alone with his thoughts and nightmares, but he’d closed himself off and put on that invisible shield he always carried around with him.

“It’s okay. Go. I’ll be fine.”

“But I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I want to be alone.” He hardly looked at me as he put his shirt and sweatpants on, his tone leaving no place for argument.

“But—”

“Jessica, it’s fine. Just go.”

I didn’t want him to deal with his demons on his own, but the spell that had held us together today was losing its strength, and the distance between us increased again.

“I see. Okay then. I’ll leave.”

I texted Mel back saying I was on my way to her place. I kept a blank face, but it was like he could see through me. He stopped in front of me with remorse that darkened his features.

He raised his hand to touch my cheek, and I held my breath, more than aware that I was wearing only his shirt and my panties, but he pulled his hand away before our skin could touch. “It’s better this way. For both of us.”

I just nodded, trying my hardest to keep it together.

Thankfully, I managed to stay composed on my way out of his room, his house, and most likely, his life.

I stopped next to my car and directed my gaze at the sky, looking for the moon, but unlike earlier, it was clouded and hardly visible, showing that even the mightiest of lights could be conquered by a veil of darkness.

There had to be a way to make Blake’s clouds disappear. His light, as weak as it was, couldn’t just diminish.

Even though it felt like it might be too late.

I entered my house with heavy steps. I felt like a zombie because I’d hardly slept a wink the previous night. It hadn’t helped that Mel had grilled me when I finally arrived at her house with puffy, bloodshot eyes and asked to use her shower, which had raised even more questions I couldn’t escape from. We’d ended up talking until it was really late and they could barely keep their eyes open.

I hadn’t mentioned anything about my conversation with Blake or his nightmare, only sticking to the sex. Mel’s jaw had dropped to the floor when she heard Blake and I had done it. It was funny just thinking about her expression, but I couldn’t find it in me to smile now on my way to the kitchen, psyching myself up for the moment of truth.

Seeing the way Blake pushed through his life with PTSD had geared me up for the conversation I was bound to have with my parents. I didn’t want to delay it