Page 40 of Monster

Once I shrug my white T-shirt over my head, blowing out a breath at my still sore muscles, I shift my gaze to where Leo has planted his ass on my bed. He’s texting on his phone and I’m about to make a comment about it until I see the expression on his face—his business face.

I hold back my remark and move to the bed, sitting on the very edge, waiting for him to finish. I feel pathetic sitting here, basically fucking waiting to be told what to do, but all of the energy Iwasfeeling has been sucked out of me in the effort it took me to shower. Now, I’m just fucking exhausted. And in pain.

Missing her is fucking killing me.

Watching her with that guy in her bed… fucking ripped my heart out of my goddamn chest. I’ve known all kinds of fucking pain—mostly physical. But this? I’m wrecked. Lost. Fuckingbroken.

She ruined me—just like she said she would.

And fucking joke’s on me because I let her.

I’m snap out of my daze when I feel Leo’s hand on my shoulder, gripping me tightly, but in a comforting way. I twist my head to the side to glance at him behind me and the expression on his face has tears springing to my eyes.

Jesus fucking Christ, I’m a joke.

“It’s okay, Vin. You can cry. Let it all out—that’s what I’m here for,” Leo states in a soothing tone. My shoulders shake as my heartache consumes me again. Leo doesn’t hesitate to pull me back toward him. My back is to his chest, and he wraps his arms around my torso, holding me to him. And it’s exactly what I need.

* * *

“I need her,”I blurt out, my voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” he says.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” I ask, truly fucking lost. I just need him to tell me what to do.

“First, why don’t you tell me what the fuck happened?” he asks while taking a sip of bourbon. I copy his move and take a sip of my own, but it burns even worse than normal sliding down my throat and I fight back a cough.

“I found her. I fuckingfound her.But when I opened the door to her room, I found her in bed withanother fucking man,” I growl. Even thinking about it makes my fucking blood boil.

“And?”

“And? What the fuck do you mean and?” I spit out. My hand tightens around my glass automatically, my knuckles turning white.

“I mean, what’s that mean? Was she fucking him? What?”

“They were fucking sleeping and his arms were wrapped around her. She was… She appeared peaceful, even in her fucking sleep. I’ve only ever seen her like that one time—the time we went to—” I cut myself off. I can’t even bring myself to say it.When we went to my place, and she saw the poppies.Myfucking place.

“That doesn’t mean anything. Vincent. You saw one damn thing. In the middle of the night. It could’ve been anything.”

“Are you fucking defending her?” I ask ridiculously.

“What? No, of course not. You know I can barely stand the bitch as it is with everything she’s put you through. I’m merely playing devil’s advocate with you. You say you fucking want her?” He glances up at me and his amber eyes stare into mine.

“Yes,” I state with no hesitation because I do. Even after what I saw, I still want her because she’s fucking mine.

“Then go fucking get her. You’re one crazy motherfucker and the Vincent I know wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of what he wants.” I open my mouth, but he holds up his hand, pausing me. “And if she doesn’t want to come back with you,make her.”

Make her.

I throw back the rest of what’s in my glass, but instead of almost coughing this time, I smile as the burn works its way down my throat and settles into the pit of my stomach.

Make her.