His Trouble Maker

JESSICA

Try again?

Fuck that.

I’m done. No more. Since when do I take orders from this asshole?

I hit the ground again, the impact slamming every bit of air out of my lungs. Everything hurts–my legs, my arms, my ribs, my pride. Especially my pride. It’s the only thing left of me that hasn’t been shattered, and I can feel it breaking into pieces with every second I stay down here.

I roll onto my side, groaning. Fuck, my body really hurts. My ribs ache with every breath, my muscles scream with every move. But it’s not just my body. It’s everything. I’m lying here, unable to move, too weak to stand, and I hate it. I hate him.

I close my eyes for a second, just to block out everything. The sun’s warm against my skin, but before I can even take a proper breath, his shadow falls over me. It’s thick and heavy, blocking out the light, and I instantly feel the weight of him.

Gray.

I don’t even have to look up to know he’s there, towering over me like he’s some kind of god. He doesn’t need to say anything–his presence alone is enough to suffocate me.

“Giving up already?”

I want to scream at him, rip him apart for enjoying this, but I can’t

even get the words out.

Instead, I just lie there, staring at the ground, trying to get some air into my lungs. My heart’s racing, my chest is tight, and I can barely breathe without feeling like my body’s about to give out.

But then, I feel him. His hand–it’s not rough. It’s soft, It shouldn’t make my heart race, but it does. His fingers brush against my shoulder. Barely a touch, but it’s enough to make me flinch. I feel the heat of his skin, even through the dirt. I’m so aware of him, I can’t escape it. I can’t get away from the way his presence presses in on me, suffocating me.

I turn my head, refusing to look up at him. He’s too close. I can feel him watching me, waiting for me to crack. His breath hovers over me, and I’m trying so damn hard not to let it break me.

“Fuck off,” I whisper, voice rough, but it comes out weak. I’m too weak to fight it. I can’t even look at him without feeling like I’m giving in.

Gray chuckles–low, amused, like he’s enjoying this more than he should.

“I really thought you could last a week/ Jess.”

My pride stings. He doesn’t even have to touch me to break me, does he? I fight the urge to look away. I force myself to meet his eyes, even though the weight of his gaze almost crushes me.

you want

1/3

Wed, 30 Jul

Chapter 7

“Then why’d you accept?”

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little. He’s not wrong, but I’m not about to admit that. I don’t need

that I can take whatever he throws at me, but

his hand away with more force than I intend. Fuck him. I don’t need his help. I don’t need

get up on

force myself to sit up, grinding my teeth as I do. Every muscle protests, but I refuse to

of seeing me

“Weed some help?”

playing on his lip. I was

he pulls its

My eyes widen.

racing through me. I don’t even have

face–first in the

You okay there,

caked across my face, and the world is tilting. Above me,

still dancing on his lips. He’s

from my mouth, glaring up at him, rage bubbling in

funny to you?” I grind out, my voice rough.

down at me with that smug smile. “A little bit,” he says, his voice dripping with

easy.”

Too easy.

don’t belong in this family.

someone finds a way to remind me. That I’m nothing but a pretty

be a

Gray… feels so fucking sick. I wanted to curse him, scream, rip that smug look off his face. I wanted to throw everything at him–the rage, the pain,

split second, his eyes soften. I don’t even realize that my vision’s blurry until I blink. My chest tightens, and before! can stop it, the tears start

2/3

30 Jul