Burning Truths (Consume Me #2)

15. Kenna

Chapter Fifteen

KENNA

Pick.

Scrape.

Pick.

My skin crawls from the sound the sharp edge makes against the tile. Hot water and steam cover my skin. The tip of my knuckle drags down the edge cutting my soaked flesh. I ignore the pain, the bright red liquid gliding down my skin, I ignore it all.

Pick.

Scrape.

Pick.

The skin around my nails peels back.

Look what you’re doing to yourself.

Tears mix with the water falling down my face. The combination of water and blood make beautiful swirls down the tile wall. The crack slowly growing bigger.

Stop this madness. You’re getting nowhere.

I can’t. I have to keep trying.

For who? Them? Ha. Have you learned nothing? It’s been two months and no one has come.

Pick .

Scrape .

Pick .

Pulling my fingers away from the wall to examine them my eyes fall to the damage. My nails are chipped away revealing soft pink flesh under the nails. Blood and skin fall from the tips like ash pooling at the bottom of the tub. My chest aches from the pain, but the darkest part of my mind tries to cloud the pain. My forehead falls to the cold shower wall in defeat. My breathing turns ragged, my fingertips no longer hurting, the water hitting my back turning colder.

We are safe here. Stop trying to ruin everything!

Please. Please just shut up!

Shaking my head the motion drags my forehead across the tile rattling my thoughts. The water is colder. My skin pruning. The small triangle piece of tile in my other hand is pinched between my fingers digging into the wet skin. Fisting around the sharp edge a sudden wave of rage fuels me. Lifting my head I take my right hand and slam it into the small hole over and over.

Stabbing. Dragging the edge down the wall. Blood and water.

You’re breaking.

I was always broken!

I want to scream. To slap myself. To take the pointed edge and slice through my own skin. Paint these walls with my blood like I did with Jax. I deserve to suffer for what I’ve done. Nothing makes sense anymore.

Pick.

Slam.

Stab.

I continue this routine until my arms are heavy and sweat mixes with blood and water. My body trembles from exhaustion. Or could it be the frozen water cascading down my body?

I wonder if I’ll die from hyperthermia.

I muse to myself but the bitch in my ear just laughs.

When he comes in here to see the mess you’ve made, what do you think he’ll do?

A small flash of fear courses through me at the reminder of the collar still in place around my throat.

You know how to get rid of the collar, Kenna.

Shaking my head I ignore the voice in my head. She may be right but I refuse to think of that.

Look at you!

NO .

Turning away from the wall of the shower I throw the broken tile into the corner and let out a loud wail. Dropping to my knees my fingers throb when I shove them into my hair. Tugging at the strands, my body moves on it’s own. Rocking in a familiar motion.

Get up.

My legs start to go numb from the chill reaching my bones.

GET. UP.

I continue to rock. The images scattered across the bedroom wall flash through my thoughts. A reminder of how little I matter.

You matter to Hank. He is your Ryker now.

Bile threatens to come up. My stomach quivering with the picture of Hank merging with Ryker. Hank's salt and pepper hair drifting into dark strands and brown eyes. Blue- brown. Back and forth.

He’s ours and we are his. Let him show you.

Oh god.

Footsteps approach the bathroom. Fuck, I didn’t hear the bedroom door close.

Prove to him that he can trust us. He is our Ryker now.

Lifting my head I stand too fast shooting a numbness through my legs. Moving to shut the water off I slip my hands under the water to clean them. The blood has slowed but the damage is done. The doorknob turns in time for him to see me step out of the tub with a large grey towel around me. A sigh escapes past my lips when his eyes meet mine. Blue. Brown. My vision betrays me. His now dyed hair appears darker in the bright light of the bathroom.

“Princessa.” he says.

His tone is flat while his gaze assesses me. I’ve pulled the curtain back to cover the mess but he must sense something because he takes a step forward.

Show him.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat I give him a soft smile. His steps falter when I slowly begin moving towards him. Two steps later and I’m only inches away. Lifting my hand I rest my palm on his chest looking up to meet his stare. Pulling in a deep breath I let the chains of my mind break away freeing me from the past.

Free us.

My lips part, “Ryker.” I breathe.

His eyes dilate with the name. Our chests rise faster, the oxygen between us thinning, until we are only a breath away. He closes that gap bringing my chest to his.

Show him.

Pushing up on my toes I watch for any sudden movement before I lean in softly planting my mouth on his. Twisting his fingers in my hair, his hold tugs me closer, pressing me into him harder. Drinking down the taste of my lips his tongue trails the seams of my mouth begging for entrance. Humming his approval when my lips part he dips his tongue inside my mouth and starts to lap up everything I give him.

Pulling away he leans down to my ear, “There she is.”