27. Used

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Important: I do not write sex scenes, but this chapter does get a little heated. Just kissing, but other desires are implied. Skip it if you want, but I do recommend skimming the last 6 or so paragraphs so that you understand what happened.

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Minutes pass and I finally pull myself together. Reluctantly, I push myself off of Seth's chest, breaking his hold on me slightly. His hands slide away from my back and find themselves rested at the curve of my waist. His gaze searches mine for several heartbeats. There's a seriousness in the depths of his eyes, a fierceness that could almost be confused with anger.

"Is it really that bad?" he suddenly asks, and I'm not entirely sure what he means by that.

I suddenly want to scream. Is he really so ignorant that he can't comprehend my struggle? Can he honestly not see the damage he's done by abandoning me? I can't help but point a glare in his direction. The action brings a look of puzzlement to his face. He bends slightly, trying to get a better view of my face, but it's obvious—I'm furious.

How dare he take pity on me now! How dare he pretend to care when he's so casually dragging me behind him as he prepares to cut the rope that binds us. I think back to his tattoo and the meaning behind it. He clearly wasn't in his right mind at the time. To make a promise to himself that he'd stick with me through thick and thin, and here he is bolting at the first sign of trouble.

His eyes rove over my face, shocked to find such hostility in my face.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks, pulling my angry gaze to his mouth, where I watch the shock-filled words fall from his lips.

"Of course I'm mad at you!" I almost shout, but I manage to stitch a web of control into the words just before I can belt them out.

He's truly baffled. He just stares, his arms dropping away from me slowly, like a leaf floating to the ground. He instantly looks lost—a puppy without a home. Did I do that? Did my words cause that tortured look in his eyes?

"It just hurts," I tell him, my voice barely a whisper as I glance down between us. We've added a few inches between us now and the molecules floating in the gap that separates us are like little fireballs, ready to explode with even the slightest of movements.

"What does, Merc?" His voice is careful, every word measured in fear that I'll claw into him again if he agitates me further.

I suddenly don't care anymore. I don't care if I look like a fool. I don't care if what I do next ruins everything. Because, the way I see it, we're already ruined. We can't possibly get any lower than we are now. So, I do it. I say what I've been dying to confess for months now, and I watch as Seth's face falls.

"It hurts to want you," I profess. "It hurts to see you every day and know what I know. I can't do it anymore. I can't watch you walk away when I want you so freaking bad."

He doesn't move, but I swear I hear the slow-motion banging of his heart as it collides with his ribs. Everything seems to be moving at a turtle's pace—the dip of his brows, the flattening of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes.

I'm not sure if I've surprised him by this revelation, or if I've just flushed all his hard work down the toilet. If he was trying to push me away, then my announcement just now was like a bullet through the very heart of those plans. He should be furious with me, and yet, he hardly moves. I'm not even sure if he's still breathing. He suddenly steps back, his face dropping into a look of disbelief. He's gazing at everything except for me, running his hands through his dark hair as he fights to take in this new information.

"Mercy." It's almost a gasp, but he sounds awed as he lets my name pass through his lips with an almost intimate whisper.

Suddenly his focus lands on me and I can't deny the pained confusion on his face. His gaze shifts from one of my eyes and then to the other as he fights to understand the words I've just uttered. Maybe if he can get a reading, he'll understand my reasons for blurting out such foolishness.

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