unDefeated by J.C. Valentine

Author:J.C. Valentine [Valentine, J.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: J.C. Valentine
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

***

He spoke the truth, but it was her reaction that unsettled him. He hadn’t noticed it before, maybe too distracted with the crap jumbled up in his own head to see what was right in front of his eyes, but she looked…tired.

He knew the look of defeat. Wore it himself most days. He’d always considered Liv the stronger of them, but he could see now that she was breaking. Possibly already broken.

God, he hadn’t expected to find her like that, passed out on the bathroom floor in a puddle of her own blood. He didn’t think he’d ever get that picture out of his head. It had been the single most horrific moment of his life. And he’d experienced a few to measure it against.

He wanted to be angry with her—and he was. To rail over how stupid she was to pull a stunt like that—because she was. He wanted to demand to know what was going on in her head, but knew demands weren’t the way to get answers. It’d never worked on him, so he didn’t expect the tactic to work on her. The thing about addicts was that you couldn’t force change on them. They had to want it first.

With as steady a voice as he could manage, Spencer asked, “Why, Liv?”

Her thin fingers plucked at the hem of her shirt. It sprung back, just enough to reveal the stark white edge of the bandage he’d placed there. Cringing, Spencer closed his eyes. He could still see the cuts. Deep, angry, purposeful lines carved into her beautiful silky smooth skin.

“Why what?”

Flipping his hardened gaze up to hers, he gave her a look. “Don’t do that. You know what I’m asking. Why did you hurt yourself? I thought you were over that.”

Shaking her head sadly, she sighed. “You know as well as I do that there are some things that stick with you. It’s a constant struggle not to fall back into old habits.”

Yeah, he really did. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t royally pissed over what she did. “Do you have any idea what seeing you like that did to me? Any at all?” he asked angrily. “It fucking tore my heart out. I thought you were dead, Liv! I came back to ask you to forgive me for leaving, and instead I find you passed out, slashed all to hell, and in a pool of blood.”

His breathing had become labored, his heart pounding in his chest at the memory. She didn’t understand what she had done to him. He could see it in the dull look in her eyes. Was this what everyone else saw in him? That cool, uncaring demeanor? Just listen, let them shout, get it all off their chest, and then move on like nothing ever happened. That’s what he used to do.

Whenever Spencer did something he knew would rock the boat—or sink it—he fell back on the idea that a couple of apologies would do the trick. If he could get through the yelling and crying, everyone would feel better and he could get on with his day.

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