“I’m sorry,” she whispers before I finally do what she asked for and slip out of the room.
I leave the house without looking back, without breathing. And it’s not until I’m back in my car, sitting behind the wheel that I finally let it out.
“Fuuuuuck,” I bark, slamming my hands against the wheel as pain lashes at my insides and my eyes burn with both exhaustion and emotion. “Fuck, Fuck. Fuck.”
Not hanging around for fear I might ignore her wishes and force myself back inside, I start the engine and take off.
I don’t have a destination in mind. I know I should be going home, but the thought of being alone in my flat right now doesn’t hold any kind of appeal, so when I get to the turning, I go in the opposite direction.
I feel nothing by the time I drive through the gates to our old home and make my way up the long driveway toward the house.
I used to dread coming here in a way I hope I never feel again.
Constantly not knowing what kind of mood Jonas might be in, and then later, just how sick I would find Mum, who was confined to her bedroom used to plague me the entire time I was away. But even with it now empty and abandoned, I can’t rid myself of the fear, of the hate I felt for the man who reigned supreme here.
Pulling the car to a stop, I reach into the glove box to grab the keys and push the door open.
I could have gone anywhere in the city. Yet here I am. The place that holds all my nightmares, about to step between the walls that not long ago I swore I’d never see again. But one bad night, one more rejection from Jodie, and here I am. Seeking out the pain this place always forces upon me.
Ignoring the kitchen, the place of all my worst horrors, I head for the stairs and then to my bedroom.
The room is almost empty, void of all my childhood belongings that the shelves once held. All of that is either boxed at Galen’s place or in my flat.
Ignoring it all, I head for the window and throw it wide open. Hopping up onto the sill, I climb out and up onto the roof just like I’ve done so many times in the past.
I was, I think, twelve when I first found this way to escape, and by some miracle, he never discovered it, never ruined it for me. The only person who even knows about it is Nico. He always knew it would be where he could find me if shit had gone wrong. Not that he ever really knew the real reasons why I felt the need to hide in my own home.
I lower my ass to the tiles and lie back as the sun begins to rise through the trees.
It’s bitterly cold, my breath coming out in clouds around me, but I barely feel it. It’s only pain and regrets that flow through my body, swallowing anything else in its wake.