Again.
And I had no one to blame but myself.
When I got to the bar inside the hotel, I didn’t wait for the bartender to ask what I wanted.
“Strongest thing you’ve got,” I said, voice low, jaw clenched. “Just keep pouring.”
He didn’t say anything. He just gave me a look, then grabbed a bottle and filled a glass to the brim.
I knocked it back.
It burned like hell, but I welcomed it. I wanted the burn. I wanted it to drown out the fire inside me that I couldn’t put out.
I slammed the glass down. “again.”
And he refilled it.
I didn’t stop.
I kept drinking.
One glass. Then another. Then another.
Everything inside me felt heavy. My chest. My head. My throat. My thoughts.
I fucked up.
I told myself I wouldn’t touch her like that again. Not like that. Not when I was angry. Not just to prove a point. But I did. I let my jealousy win. I let it eat me alive and I used her body to make a statement like a goddamn animal
And she let me.
That’s what messed me up the most. She didn’t stop me. She didn’t scream or fight me. She let me touch her. She kissed me back. She wrapped herself around me like she still wanted me
But then she left.
I rubbed my hand over my face, feeling the burn in my eyes that I refused to call tears.
She was my drug Fuck, she was my entire addiction. I craved her like nothing else. My body, my mind, my soul… all of it needed her and after tasting her again, after feeling her like that, I couldn’t breathe without wanting more.
She didn’t even say goodbye.
She just left.
I dropped my head on the bar counter and laughed to myself. It wasn’t even funny. It sounded bitter. It sounded broken.What the hell am I becoming?
I lost control. again.
I didn’t even know how many drinks I had. I just kept going until everything started spinning.
I was drunk.
So fucking drunk.
“Rough night?”
I blinked. a soft female voice. I looked up and saw a woman standing there, leaning against the bar, her smile a little too perfect.
She was pretty. Long legs. Tight dress. Perfect lipstick. She looked like someone who didn’t mind broken men.
“You okay?” she asked, tilting her head a little.
I stared at her for a long second. Then I blinked again, and suddenly all I saw was Liana.
“Liana…” I whispered.
Her smile softened. “You want some help getting to your room?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah… Liana… I’m so sorry.”
She wrapped her arm around mine and started helping me up.
Everything was blurry. My steps were slow. My body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I mumbled. “I didn’t mean it. I just… I saw you with him and I lost it. I lost it. You’re mine, you hear me? I don’t care what your dad says. You’re mine.”
“Shh, I know,” she whispered back, her voice nothing like Liana’s, but I didn’t notice. Or maybe I just didn’t care.
She helped me into the elevator. Then through the hallway.
Then into the room.
She closed the door behind us and locked it.
I staggered toward the bed.
She pushed me down gently.
“Liana…” I whispered again.
“I’m right here,” she said, even though I wasn’t really listening to her voice. I was seeing her face. Liana’s face. Her eyes. Her mouth. Her skin
“I love you,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Even when you hate me. I still love you.”
She didn’t say anything.
Her hands moved to my shirt. Then to my pants.
I didn’t stop her.
I just laid back, drunk out of my mind.
Killian’s POV
The second her hand touched me, something irritating twisted
This wasn’t Liana’s touch.
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