Does It Hurt?

by H.D. Carlton

“We’ll cross paths again, Sawyer. Life has a funny way of throwing people into your path when you’re meant to collide. It’s up to you to choose to make it permanent.”

Everyone wants to fix the broken, right?”

Quote

“People don’t actually care about fixing you. They just want to shape your broken pieces until they fit their standards. Smooth ’em out, make ’em less sharp, so they don’t cut so deep when they collect ’em.

Quote

“He’s a wise one,” I announce loudly, earning a few side-eye glances. “If I’m a feral dog, you’re an owl.”

Funny

“His name is Enzo. Sorry for his manners. He got bullied in school and hasn’t seen a therapist yet. We really appreciate your kindness.”

Funny

Enzo and I stand in the eye of a hurricane, a perfect storm of lust and hate.

“It’s because it’s not good enough, Sawyer. You’re not good enough.”

Sad

“I… heart attack,” I gasp. “You’re not having a heart attack,” Enzo responds dryly. “Dying,” I wheeze. “Need the water police. Call 911.”

Funny

“Did she just say water police?” “Ignore her,” Enzo grumbles. “911 isn’t even the right number to call.”

“That also means the nanny didn’t notice when Kev wanted to… play.”

Sad

“No more running, baby. I want him to come looking for you just so I can have the privilege of ending his life for touching what’s mine.”

I wasn’t yours then. You didn’t even know me.”

“You were always destined to be mine,”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s dead or alive, he’ll always haunt me,” I rasp, sadness ringing from the truth. “Then I will haunt you worse.”

“He’s forced you to strip people of their identities, so I will do the same to him,”

“Because I want to be the only thing that keeps you up at night, bella ladra,” he growls.

“And if anyone is going to hurt you, it’s going to be me.”

“Bring him to me, Sawyer. I’ll take care of him. I won’t let you get away as she did.”

I’m trapped in other people’s lives. Tangled in the web of names carefully selected by loving mothers and fathers. Or maybe they weren’t loved at all. Maybe they weren’t even wanted. Just like Enzo. I sniff, still put

“Bella means beautiful, right?” I ask. “Si,” he confirms. Shit, that shouldn’t make me happy. Even with his hatred toward me, he still calls me beautiful. “And ladra?” He’s quiet as he continues to massage the soap into my hair. “You asked me for the truth, and I gave it,” I whisper. “Tell me one of your truths.” After a pause, he says, “It means thief.” My heart withers, though it’s only true. “You ensnare men with your beauty, spin them into your web, and then steal from them. You’re a beautiful thief.”

“You will heal, Sawyer. And as long as you are with me, you will never have to cause pain again. But when you are between my teeth, I will make you bleed. I will make you hurt instead.”

“That's where you will find the meaning of life. And that's where you will find a life with me worth living.”

“Why?” I whisper. “You couldn’t even say that you didn’t hate me.”

“Non ti odio, Sawyer,” he says roughly. “I wanted to say it was the truth when you asked if I hated you, but I couldn’t lie, so I said nothing. And every time I laid eyes on you toda...

“Choose to live, bella. Choose me.”

“You can’t let them find me,” she whispers. “The only one who will ever find you is me, Sawyer. You can hide from everyone else, but you can’t hide from me.”

I’ve been making you hurt because I’m hurt, but you’re not the one who broke me. And it was never my right to break you.”

“You are good enough, Sawyer. You’re nothing like I said you were, and everything I said you weren’t. You’re strong and brave, and above all else, you’re admirable.”

“Can you, like, not make me cry right now, please? I’m trying to look like a badass.”

“You are so sleeping on the floor tonight.” For her, I would.

“You felt like a burden,” I surmise. “I didn’t know how to be anything else,” he states plainly.

Sad

my parents weren’t disappointed in me.” “Why were they disappointed?” “I wasn’t him,”

Sad

“Stop elbowing me, you big oaf!” I whisper-shout. “Then move,” he growls. “For a tiny little thing, you take up a lot of fucking room.” “Moi?” I ask, aghast, a hand to my chest. “Have you seen the circumference of one of your arms? It's honestly concerning. You probably need to see a doctor for it.” “I’m not the one who needs a doctor. Maybe you should go lie down. You still have a concussion, and it’s clearly warping your judgment.” I narrow my eyes, huffing with irritation. “You are impossible,” I snap.

Funny

I want to keep her. I will keep her.

“So, then what the hell are you going to do?” I whisper-shout. “Open the door and tell it to quiet down or you’ll give it a spanking?” “I’m going to give you a spanking if you keep it up,” he snaps.

“There’s a place in the ocean, so deep, where not a single point of light penetrates through it. And for so long, I’ve been trapped there, unable to breathe. When I met you, you lifted me out of that darkness, and it was the first time I came up for air. You’ve become my oxygen, bella ladra, and I can no longer breathe without you.”

My heart bursts from my chest, and now it feels like I can’t breathe. I’ve never wanted someone to love me, but I do now. God, do I want him to love me. “Beautiful thief,” I murmur, recalling what his nickname means.

“Being loved by me will hurt like hell. It’s everything you deserve.” Then, he declares passionately, “I love you, and you will love me.” I’m convinced I’m dying, yet it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. “I do. I do love you,”

How do I tell her that I’m only angry because I wanted to see the life drain from his eyes, too? How do I say that I would’ve loved to see her end his miserable life and then probably fuck her for it after?

“Sawyer, get behind me. You were scared not two seconds ago.” She cuts a glare over her shoulder. “I’m too excited now. So, you get behind me. Being a man doesn’t make you special. Last time I checked, I’m the murderer, not you.”

Funny

Adrenaline bleeds into my system as a pale, feminine foot appears, and then the other.

I knew it

She has no mouth. Or rather, where her mouth used to be is a line of thick, black stitches.

sad

The white dress she’s wearing is more of a yellow, and there’s a rotting stench emanating from her. But her face… it’s so much worse than I initially thought. Thick ropes of black thread loosen across her mouth and up to her cheeks. It appears as if the wound is rotting, the flesh around it blackened and decayed.

Sad

She stares at us with pale blue eyes, watery and wide. It takes another moment to realize that she’s shaking like a leaf.

I wonder how long she has been kept like this.

Only then do I lower the gun. As much as I want to believe Kacey wouldn’t attack us, there’s no doubt her mental state is in tatters, and I can’t determine where exactly her head is at with us. Sylvester is all she knows—it’s entirely possible she will be loyal to him over us, despite what he’s done to her.

Exacly my thought

He’s back.

My hearts pounding

“I told her you would stay here with her. She's very excited to have a new friend.”

I new it

“Was getting a supply drop-off when she started screaming. I had already cut out her tongue the previous time when she tried to call for help, but that doesn’t stop someone from making noises of distress, even if it’s incoherent. She forced my hand.”

How is she still alive

Love is funny that way. It persists even when you’ve done everything in your power to banish it. It demands its own voice and refuses to be a slave to anyone but its own desires. And despite the power of it, those selfish desires are what make love so weak.

It’s accepting the apologies of a cheating lover. It’s returning to a raised hand, over and over, until that hand becomes lethal, and home is in the afterlife. It’s clinging to a mother who never wanted you and hoping she will one day show up on those church steps. It’s grabbing ahold of a hand that belongs to both a father and an abuser, wailing as they slowly slip away. It’s falling in love with a liar, a thief, and praying they never hurt you again.