Filthy 6: A Dark Erotic Serial by Megan D. Martin

Author:Megan D. Martin [Martin, Megan D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Megan D. Martin
Published: 2015-07-08T23:00:00+00:00

NINE

Faye.

I stared at myself in the mirror. The one that hung over the white porcelain sink in my apartment. But I didn’t really see the woman on the other side. I was too busy listening to the footsteps against the wood floor. Rhett’s footsteps.

My heart was still pounding, jumping around in my chest from when I exploded all over his tongue. I shouldn’t have let him. I should have made him leave. I shouldn’t have agreed to give him the stupid tour of my apartment. None of it should have happened. Last night shouldn’t have happened.

Fear snaked through me as I stared at myself. The woman staring back was me. Her dark hair long, and sex ruffled. Her skin was clear, normal, like always. Though there was something else, a sense of something I didn’t like there. It was hope. I sucked in a breath as I recognized it. It made the fear inside me combust until I was bleeding with it.

I could remember that hope, I had felt it before. As I stood in his apartment. The one he and Sarah shared. The place where I was an outsider, a stranger, an intruder. I had been a twenty-year-old girl in love with a man she couldn’t have. But I had hoped anyway. I had put it all on the line, just to be ripped apart. To be left alone for six years.

The tears slipped down my face. I watched them. They were clear, glassy, a reflection of my skin. Disgust ripped through me. I wasn’t that girl anymore. The girl with blood dripping down her face while her daddy fucked her from behind. The broken, bruised, drug addict. The monster who chose to take her own life. The shell of her former self. I wasn’t that person anymore. I hadn’t been that girl in years.

But suddenly I was that person. I stared at the woman in the mirror and I was back there in those moments where all I wanted was to escape, through drugs, through death. I stared at the pink scar on my arm. I would wear it forever. The choice would live in my skin for the rest of my life. Just like the one on my heart. The one put there by Rhett. By the man who had come back into my life only one day ago, but somehow he had blown through my world like a tornado, trashing everything new and pretty and leaving nothing but the shell, the hull. The thing I really was, exposed. Poison. Sickness. Filth. That’s what I was.

I dressed up the dirty parts of me. I was so clean all over, fresh, new. So pristine, but the filth always had a way of leaking through. I was poison. I had wanted to poison him with the hate. But I hadn’t. It hadn’t worked. I didn’t need it. I came, last night and this morning, without the hate I had needed for so long.

I shook my head. And now this shell of me, this stupid little girl had something more.

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