I need to get her back.
The phantom pain of her not being by my side hurts like fucking hell, and I’m consumed by thoughts of getting her back where she belongs. When I’m not sleeping, I’m thinking about Rain. And the more Liberato refuses to help, the more determined I become to find my woman on my own.
Finally, a week after the shooting, I get up in the middle of the night. The pain is almost unbearable, but the morphine they had on tap in my veins earlier did it’s job, helping me feel better. Except now it’s not enough. My body is screaming for more. A week without the drugs it’s used to has rendered me useless.
I drag my half-healed body down the hallway to my study. Collapsing on the office chair, I take several minutes to breathe normally again. Then I yank open the drawer of my desk and carefully remove the false bottom. Underneath, there’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
As I inhale the powder, I tell myself I’m doing it for Rain. That this is all for her. It’s just giving me some more strength to ensure I’ll be able to get her away from Xavier again.
But when I shoot the clear liquid into my vein, I don’t feel strong.
I feel weak as fuck.
Unwilling to admit it to myself, I take more of the drugs than I should.
The world spins and I get clouded by the animalistic need to fuck. I want Rain back here. I could have another girl up in here in a matter of minutes, but my cock aches for a certain toy I can’t have. It’s no use even thinking about anyone else. My dick no longer gets hard for anyone but Rain.
Liberato appears in my thoughts. My mind paints him as the culprit in my separation from Rain. I want to be reunited with her, and he’s preventing me from attacking the man that took her away from me.
My fingernails tear into my palms with brutal force. I want to hurt someone. I want to kill something.
I shake my head, telling myself it’s just the drugs mind fucking me again, but it doesn’t help. Murderous urges mix with adrenaline and the desire to be buried deep between Rain’s legs. My head is a confused, fucked up mess that doesn’t know which shot of dopamine to focus on.
Groaning out loud, I sweep my arm over the desk in front of me and ignore the sounds of various items shattering on the floor. I feel like Rain is here with me. The ghost of her body, her scent, her whispers, follows me around, begging me to steal her back.
The ghost of my woman wraps its fingers around my neck, pulling me close, promising me everything and more if I rescue her from her prison.
“I’m coming for you, Rain,” I mutter to myself, repeating the phrase I’ve said plenty of times before. “I won’t let you stay with him. You’re fucking mine.”
Now my demons are coming out to play, too. Rain’s ghost and the dark shadows of my worst nightmares mix, making me stumble as I get up and fall back on the desk. I can barely breathe. The trip from the drugs is taking over, making colors shift and dance before my eyes.
I grab at nothing, eager to wrap my fingers in something familiar. But she isn’t here, and my hand soars through empty air instead. I grunt her name, searching for her in the mist that’s descended before my vision. And yet nothing happens. She’s gone. Fucking gone. And I’m the one who let that happen.
Anger boils inside me, reminding me of all the bad things that have happened to Rain Ferrell because of me.
Her parents dying.
Her grandmother being killed.
Xavier.
And now, when we’ve finally been reunited, she’s been taken from me again.
Determination to get her back floods me, and I pick myself back up, forcing myself to walk out of the office and stumble into the hallway. I can only hope I won’t run into Liberato again. He will no doubt chastise me about the drugs.
But what else am I supposed to do? The only person who’s ever meant something to me has been ripped away from me for the second time, and my best friend, my brother, won’t let me go after her.
An enraged scream rips itself from my lips as I smash my fist into a painting in the hallway. The canvas rips. I don’t give myself a chance to wonder how many millions of dollars I’ve just wasted by destroying the priceless artwork. I keep stumbling down the hallway until the scent still lingering in the air tells me I’ve reached Rain’s room.
I push the door open and walk inside. Everything looks as if she’s just gone out to run an errand and she’ll be gone any second. There’s an open book by the bed. The fire is going. The maids must have lit it to cheer me up. All it does is make me angrier.