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it’s only you, Huckslee. It’s only ever been you.”
How can you claim you love someone when all you do is hurt them repeatedly?
Huck’s freaking out. I can see it in how his fingers tighten in his hair, knuckles white, and I reach up to disentangle them before threading them with my own.
“Did you seriously get the shape of Delaware tattooed on you?”
His gaze narrows as he takes a loud sip. “Caught the whole show plus the after-credit scene.” He pauses. “Unwillingly, I might add.”
“So tell me,” he starts slowly, scooting over to make room on the couch as I flop down, “how long have you been fucking your stepbrother?”
And then I made out with him, sucked the soul out of his dick after he admitted he was in love with me, then disappeared again.
I’ve noticed in my short twenty-two years of life that people are comfortable taking things at face value. No one hardly ever digs beneath the surface, too afraid they might delve too deep and find something that makes them uncomfortable.
“We need to break this cycle, Huck. The running and hiding and keeping shit inside. It’s not healthy. Next time you feel this way, you need to talk to me about it.”
It isn’t until I’m pulling myself up onto the bank that I remember Taylor is naked. And there’s a butt plug tucked into the hem of my underwear.
Who would have thought? Taylor fucking Tottman, the kid that tormented me in high school daily, who constantly had me coming home covered in bruises, the boy who stole my first kiss and outed me to the entire community, would be mine?
this list of his crimes
