Colour My Ugly by A. Giannoccaro

Author:A. Giannoccaro [Giannoccaro, A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781482803761
Publisher: Partridge Publishing Africa
Published: 2014-10-11T04:00:00+00:00

LAURI

“Strength isn’t about how much you can handle before you break. It’s about how much you can handle after you break.”

~ Unknown

For a fleeting moment I thought just maybe I could have it all, maybe I could feel the things my heart wants to feel for Rowan. I know now the jealousy that coursed through me every time he had a woman in his bed was real. It was real because I want Rowan to be mine, I want to keep him. I know he is not a pet and that sounds stupid, but I don’t know how to put into words what I want most because I don’t want to want it.

I don’t know why I feel like this, I knew what Rowan did from the day he walked into my room; I knew he was a murderer all along. So why is it that the truth of his numbers has me feeling so conflicted? There are so many, I should hate him, I should be afraid of him and I shouldn’t want his hands on me again. Those hands have killed over two hundred people, yes that’s right the numbers in Rowan’s heart go well over the two hundred mark. I know how I should feel, but I don’t. Yes I hate what Rowan does but after living eight years in hell I can honestly say that I would kill Renzo if I saw him now without blinking or feeling. Maybe I am the same as Rowan on the inside and I just need to let it out. I wish I could actually talk to someone, talking to myself in my head is making this so much worse my head is going to explode any second now. That could be the wine too. I need some sleep so badly, but every time I close my eyes Rowan’s lips are on mine, his hands are ghosting over the pictures that adorn my skin and I know in my heart that’s what I want. I just need to decide if I can love a murderer and can a murderer love me, can he love at all. Can Rowan love me and be a cold hearted feelingless killer too?

I doze off but my sleep is restless and broken with dreams of Rowan, dreams of my past and dreams of the shattered lives of my children. I toss and turn and try to sleep but it’s useless I can already see the sun starting to rise over the hills around us; I never even closed my curtains last night. My head is pounding from the wine and too much thinking as I sit up in my bed. I groan out loud as I stand and shuffle towards the shower. I still have nothing on and I stop in front of the mirror and admire the human canvas that I have become. I feel like I am myself, the real me now that the tattoo is completed. The fresh new work is going

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