Page 88

“Normal as in you walk around miserable as fuck, trying to forget that you’re madly fucking in love with her?”

I spin around so fast that the room blurs around me, making me wonder if I’m about to hit the deck.

Reaching out, I press my palm to the cold wall and close my eyes for a few seconds.

“Yeah, I think you’ve had enough of that, don’t you?” Alex says, attempting to tug the bottle from my grasp.

“Fuck you,” I snarl. “You don’t have the slightest fucking clue of what I need right now.”

His brows lift, but he doesn’t back down. He doesn’t so much as flinch.

“Nah, you’re not really my type. Too much cock and all that.”

I bare my teeth at him, my free hand curling into a fist, more than ready to wipe the smirk right off his face.

“What happened with Calli, Daemon? What have you done?”

“My fucking job, arsehole.”

I’m too lost in my own head, the moment she turned her back and walked into the house as if I wasn’t even standing there playing on repeat over and over, ripping my heart out again and again.

“You’ve hurt her, haven’t you?”

“I wouldn’t lay a fucking hand on her and you know it,” I snarl, getting right in his face.

“I didn’t mean physically,” he grunts, his forehead bumping against mine as he stands toe to toe with me. “Tell me what you did.”

“Why? So you can go and dry her fucking tears and prove to her that she’s been fucking the wrong twin all this time?”

An angry growl rumbles deep in his throat.

“That’s what all this is about, isn’t it? You want her. You want her and you can’t stand that for once I’ve won. That I beat you.”

Crack.

His knuckles hit my jaw with a brain-rattling punch.

Pain shoots down my neck, the right side of my face burning from the collision. And I fucking relish in it.

I need this.

I need to feel pain from somewhere other than the black, gaping hole in my chest where my heart should be.

Alex might think I love her.

But I can’t.

How can I?

I was born with a fucked-up heart and I’m pretty sure the inability to love anyone. What I feel for her… it’s an obsession. An unhealthy obsession that she would be better away from.

“More,” I growl when he doesn’t immediately hit me again.

“I’m not feeding your fucked-up need for pain, Daemon. I came to help, to talk.”

“I’m not interested in that. Just make me pay for fucking her over. Make me hurt, make me bleed, and then walk out of here and go to her. We both know she’d be better off with you anyway.“

“Yeah,” he says with a sad laugh. “She probably would be, looking at the state of you, but I think it’s a bit fucking late for that, don’t you? She’s just as fucking gone for you as you are her. Don’t you see the way she looks at you?”