K Caverly - Shards of Us

I can't do this. I can't go on like this. I have to leave. I have to get away from here.

And then hits me.

What I need to do.

It hits me as I lock eyes with Sebastian's intense blue. It hits me, the memory, and I know I have no choice.

"But that's not enough," I whisper, my voice trembling. The intensity in Sebastian's face seems to shatter, and I see the ache of defeat, of hopeless, spread across his features. I see it because I know what it's like. The worst part is that I believe Sebastian despite myself. That something in his voice, something deep inside, makes me know with every part of me that he never meant to hurt me.

But I have to do this.

I can’t take being here anymore.

I have to end this, once and for all.

So I lock eyes with Sebastian, take a deep breath, and hiss, "I'm done, Sebastian. I'm done, for good. Them," I whisper, nodding to my parents. "Them, I can understand lying to me like that. Them, they never cared about me. Them, I wish were fucking dead after all the lies and pain they put me through. But you, Sebastian. I never expected you to betray me. I trusted you. I loved you! And this is what I get? The second I put my heart out there, entrust the shards of me with someone else, I just get it ripped away? My heart just gets shattered more than it already was? Was that your plan all along?" I scream, shaking all over. "Was your plan just to hurt me more than before?"

The genuine pain in Sebastian's eyes is almost unbearable. "Angel, please," he pleads, reaching out a hand to me one last time as I keep backing down the stairs, but I push it away, shaking my head. "You know that's not true."

"We're done, Sebastian," I whisper, tears streaming down my face as I take step after step down the stairs. "We're done."

Then I turn around altogether, squeezing my eyes shut to keep more tears from falling, and I sprint down the staircase, to freedom. All three of them watch me go, sad and crushed, but they don't stop me. My whole body screams with pain and confusion and betrayal, but I try to push it away, focusing on just taking step after step, even through my blurry eyes.

And then, once I reach the bottom floor, I remember what Marco said. If you ever change your mind about Sebastian, I'm always waiting at the dance studio.

And so I spin around to face Sebastian one last time, anger pulsing throughout my body. "So that's why Marco didn't kill me in that little supermarket. He wanted me to lead him right to my parents and you. And you know what?" I scream, my voice cracking through the tears as I start sprinting toward the door to get way away from here. "I will."

The dance studio in town is small, much small than the one I used to go to. This one doesn't appear to have been used in years, and it's overgrown with thick plants and trees, shoved off into the corner of a parking lot away from the rest of town. The bricks that compose the studio are crumbling, white paint peeling off the walls, and the place looks more like a century-old garage than it does a dance studio.

I keep my head down as I walk over to it. My heart is pounding.

I know what I have to do. I know I have to leave Sebastian.

I know this is my only choice.

Several cars race by me and people pass me on the beat-up sidewalk, oblivious to everything, to the way my eyes are filled with dried tears, to the absolute shattering in my heart that I'm sure is blatant in my features. I feel changed, changed from before I met Sebastian. I feel less hopeless, somehow. I feel strong, like if I can make it through this, I can do anything. But thinking about my parents and Sebastian… about what they did to me… it hurts. It hurts too much to handle.

One thing is clear, though: I have to go with Marco. I have to escape. I can't even look at Sebastian anymore without my heart hurting, and as much I hate myself for leaving, I know I have to do this.

Music pulses from within the dance studio, and a man smoking a cigarette eyes me suspiciously as I walk over to it. I stare back at him, hard and unwavering like Sebastian taught me to do, letting him know I mean business.

Sebastian taught me a lot of things. Never back down is just one of them.

The man starts to step in my way when I head straight into the parking lot toward the studio, past a few broken-down houses.

"Where are you going, missy? You sure you're in the right place," he says, blowing a puff of smoke into my face.

I glare at him. "Your boss would be pissed if he knew you interrupted me."

He raises an eyebrow, amused. I don't stop glaring at him. "Is that so?" he says as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

"Yes," I say. "I'm precious cargo."

He starts to laugh, maybe to scream at me and shove me away, but then his eyes lock on mine for the first time, and I think he realizes who I am, because he looks suddenly startled and uncomfortable. "My apologies," he says quickly. He motions me to the door, then swings it open. "Right this way."

I smile at him, cold and annoyed, and step inside. He immediately closes the door behind me.

The room inside is dark, so dark I can't see anything even if I squint. It's small and cramped, with a giant mirror to the left side of the wall and some chairs pushed off in the corner. The smell of smoke and rotted wood fills the air, and the whole atmosphere is thick and hazy, but I know Marco is here.

After a minute, a figure steps out of the shadows. "You came." It's Marco's voice, deep and dark and sexy.

Just his words make my skin feel on edge, and I get the feeling I'm making a big mistake, but then I remember what Sebastian did to me, what my parents did to me.

He pretended they were dead.

He covered it up.

He and my parents let me lose my one passion left, almost let me lose my life, and all for one stupid fucking plan. There's no way I can be with someone like that. There's no way I can ever look at them again without having the bile and the rage rise up inside of me.

And anyway, Marco is the only one who has been honest with me this whole time. I almost died because of Sebastian's pretending, and now it's time to revenge.

Now, it's time for Marco.

So I say, "Of course I came" to the dark figure, making my body as straight and even as possibly, holding my chin up. Marco steps into the light, and I can see a shadow of his face--the rough jaw, the dark eyes, the face full of danger and desire.

"I knew you would," he says, pressing my chin up with his hand, examining my eyes. His are dark and brooding, like a storm surrounding a frozen lake. There is no happiness in Marco's eyes. There is only anger. "What changed your mind?" His gaze doesn't waver as he takes a drag of his cigarette, narrowing his eyes at me.

"You were right," I say simply. I stay strong, composed, even though my heart is pounding. "Sebastian was lying to me."

He smiles, one of those awful, confident, and pitying smiles. "And so you came to me."

"Yes," I say, pressing myself against him. "You are what I need."

He continues to smile, chuckling lightly, his whole face like a haze of darkness. He moves his hand from beneath my chin, dragging it down my neck, my collarbone, and slipping into my shirt. I let him reach into my bra, tracing my breasts with his finger. I force myself to breathe, to stay stock still, focused on him.

His touch evokes an ache inside of me, a fast and ripe shock that makes me want more and more. It's different from Sebastian's, but just as exhilarating.

"You want revenge?" he says after a minute. His voice is deep and raspy, and I stand up straighter, locking eyes with him.

"I want Sebastian to pay for what he did," I say without hesitation, dragging through every word. They came out slow and clear and so, so true.