Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 73153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
"I loved the fucking pain of getting a tattoo, feeling that needle stab into my skin over and over. It gave me some sort of fucking release. I know that's sick and twisted in every fucking possible way, but that's how I cope, Tracey.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat, realizing that though Trevor never showed it, he fought his own demons on a daily basis as well.
“When I feel myself going into that deep pit again, I get tatted. I know what it's like to feel like there's no escape from the darkness that clouds your thoughts, but you can't let it consume you. I will be there for you, but you have to let me in, Tracey. I can help you out of that dark hole." He stepped forward in one long stride and knelt in front of me again, taking my face in his hands. I hadn't realized I had been crying until he swiped away my tears with his thumb. "Let me help you, baby.” My heart raced at the name he had just called me. “I want to help you. You've had so much happen to you that you can't see what's right in front of you. I am in front of you, Tracey. You've got to stop pushing me away."
A choked sob forced its way from my throat. Tears gushed down my cheeks like a flood, and I collapsed into his arms with another sob. I fell into his solid chest, his warmth enveloping me as he wrapped his muscular arms around me. He sat on the floor, bringing me down with him, holding me close to his chest. "I'm not going anywhere, baby girl." He kissed the top of my head. "Let it out."
So, I did.
I cried about everything. I cried that I never had parents that loved me. I cried that I never had friends growing up. I cried that I had a dad that beat on me and raped me instead of protecting me like a father should. I cried that I had a mother that only looked out for herself instead of her one and only daughter. I cried that I would never be able to make it out of this shit hole of a town. I cried that my grades in school were shit. I cried that I had white lines across my thighs and forearm, lingering scars that would never go away. I cried that I was always falling into a depressing, black hole.
And lastly, I cried that I had tried pushing Trevor away.
But he held me through it all, whispering comforting words into my ear. He held me tight against his naked chest and torso as he rocked me gently, back and forth, side to side. Tears soaked my face and his chest, but he didn't care that I was getting him all wet from my tears.
I don't know how long we sat on that kitchen floor, but eventually, my tears dried up, and I was only left hiccuping. I didn't want to move from Trevor’s safe and comforting embrace. Though my heart was beating rapidly at the feeling of his rock-hard body against mine, I didn't want to move.
Trevor was my safe haven.
However, once he realized that I was done crying a waterfall on his chest, he moved back slightly to look down at my face. Keeping one arm wrapped around me, he reached up with his free hand and wiped the tears away from my cheeks. "You're too beautiful to cry, Tracey."
I blushed and tucked my head under his chin, my heart racing at his words. He laughed softly and wrapped his other arm back around me. I moved my head against his heart, and my stomach flipped at how fast his heart was beating. "Are you okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be? I've got the most perfect girl in the world in my arms."
I blushed even harder at his words. "Well, your heart is just beating really fast. That's not normal."
"It is when you touch me." My chest swelled at his words. "You make me feel things I haven't ever felt before. My heart goes wild when I feel you against me or when you touch me. And it's not a bad thing, either, so don't worry your pretty little heart."
Well, my pretty little heart palpitated at his words. Trevor sure knew his way around a girl's heart. I don't know how he did it, but he managed to worm his way under my skin and wiggle his way into a special place in my soul.
I knew he would never hurt me. Somehow, from the very moment I met him, I felt at ease around him. He made me feel safe and protected.
When my blush had finally calmed down, I looked up at him to find him already looking at me. I looked back down at his chest, my hand reaching up to absentmindedly trace his tattoos. He shuddered slightly under my touch.