What the hell did you do? Who are they? Not that it matters right now, because I’ll rip them a new one and yes, the sub pack and then some…. You’ve missed so much, Lorey. I have so much to fill you in on.
Likewise.
I sigh internally and mouth it to myself. I dread it even more knowing that I also have to add my lineage to the list of things Colton should know about. That nausea chokes me again and I try to push it down and concentrate on the act of breathing in and out.
I can’t get into it right now, honestly, it’s better I show you when we meet, so you can see for yourself and you can tell me then. For now, I need to unlink Colton…this is …hard…. and we have a tough road to navigate out of this damn forest. I’ll link you when we hit route ten, please, understand…. It’s just easier to not try and explain anything until I see you. You’ll understand when you see.
I’m being a coward. I know if we stay linked while passing miles to meet, I might tell him stupid things, and work myself into a mess of tears, and love confessions, and tell the idiot how much I miss and love him still, despite what he’s done, and the fact it can never go anywhere. Or I might tell him about his mother, and have to deal with the fall out of Colton self-imploding, and I am not strong enough for that, or for keeping linked to him when I really want to curl up and cry. It’s too raw having him back in my head like we’ve never been apart, and I’m so not equipped to deal with my own feelings on top of his shining through. It’s a see saw ride and I have a lot to process.
Promise me you’ll re-link the second you hit the route, I hate this not being able to reach you bullshit, it shouldn’t be this way. I don’t care what or who he is…. I fucking love you, and nothing changes that.
That part shocks me, especially the hostile way he rasps it at me like it’s a threat and not a love declaration. Jealousy well and truly piquing in a way he can’t control, and it ignites mine, along with the urge to snap back at him. ‘So much that you marked Carmen, huh?’. It chokes me up and I unlink him without responding at all. Cutting him off before I lose my shit at him and compromise our run to safety. That inner rage igniting every time I think of the four days after leaving, and that undeniable sign that he betrayed me. He betrayed us. It’s not something I can forget, or ever forgive.
It has the desired effect of pulling my head out of my wallowing, love sick, ass and instead of soppy weak longings, I now want to rip his head off for being a possessive shithead who thinks he still has a right to me. For swearing at me about this when he should be groveling.
“Ughhhh. He has a god damn cheek, telling me HE is not mad at ME!!” I let rip, startling the poor doctor and the fright almost makes him swerve us into a bush. “You know what, he should be more concerned with how mad I am at HIM and afraid, because I’m the one who will rip him a new something when I see him! He should be the one getting sworn at and shielding off hostility, not me!!!”
The doctor flattens a palm to his chest as though trying to calm the heart failure I inflicted, and he casts me a concerned smile. A flicker of confusion crossing his features.
“Good conversation, I take it?”
He gets a darkening thunderous scowl aimed his way. My look of unimpressed and breathing in raspy short breaths as my temper rages a little higher. I think it’s an after effect of holding my anxiety in while linking and now the damn breaks.
“He loves me PAH!….and he doesn’t care who I’m with, like he has any say in that respect, when he pushed me out and made me leave and then, before even a week had passed, he had some skanky puta in his bed and finalizing the marking that should have been with me! Ughhhhh. Is he conveniently forgetting all of that? Is he that dense and that much of a condescending hypocrite!!” I’m venting, so wound up with our interaction and triggered over the stupidest part of it. Hating on him, as some sort of emotional response, and oozing fury so that I start wriggling about in my seat manically, waving my hands around and kicking the dash.
“Skanky what now?” The doctor rubs his head, eyes darting to me and the road and tries hard to make sense of my ranting.
“You know what? …If I didn’t need that jerk for Sierra’s sake then he could go kiss my ass and get used to the fact I was dust in his future. Not a chance of ever making me come back, and you know what he had the nerve to say? Do you?” I shout it at the poor doc, getting a wide-eyed shake of the head and half shrugged response.
“I wouldn’t like to hazard a guess, but I’m presuming something that piqued a nerve, or ten.” It’s a semi sarcastic yet wary reply with a feeble smile.
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