Read Take (Need #2) for Free Online Page B

me.
    He doesn’t. Whatever he’s feeling, he swallows it, keeps it locked inside himself.
    Is he choking on it, too?
    I take shallow breaths to avoid inhaling too much of his scent—futile. It surrounds me. Everything about him overwhelms me.
    I chance a peek at him. His jaw looks hard as granite, his full, kissable lips pressed tight together.
    It’s fucked up how that restrained violence calls to me. Pressing my thighs together, I look out the window. I’m such a mess, and I have no idea how to even begin to make sense of it. Maybe I’m too young, too immature. Too fucking inexperienced.
    I hate feeling like a little girl who’s gotten burned from playing with the grown-ups, but it’s time to admit that’s probably what I am.
    We pull into the driveway at my house. I move to unclip my seatbelt.
    “Austin and Jennifer are fucking.”
    Brayden’s comment stops me. I keep my eyes lowered. “You’ve fucked her, too.” And I saw it once. On a night when I’d needed him more than anything.
    “I haven’t touched her in years. He fucked her recently, from what I can tell.”
    Tears flood my eyes again. Goddammit, I don’t even know why I’m this upset. I feel something for Austin, but it’s definitely not love. Not even close.
    I try to exit the car.
    Brayden grabs my wrist. When I turn to make him release me, I’m hit with the pained, tender expression on his face.
    “Do you want me to fuck him up?” he asks me in a serious, fierce whisper.
    Is he . . . is he offering to beat Austin up for . . . I don’t get a chance to finish the thought.
    He drops my wrist, slamming his back into his seat. Restless, he throws his head back. Exhales. “God. Fucking asshole. I’ll rip him apart for fucking hurting you like this!”
    Oh. My. God.
    He punches the steering wheel.
    I grab his hand before he can deliver another hit. “Brayden. Stop!”
    There’s a madness in those inflamed eyes. A frightening madness that makes them glitter like green gems. “I know I’ve hurt you, too. That I have no right. But I’m going to fucking kill him for hurting you like this.” A pause. Several harsh breaths. The madness expands, a palpable mix of hurt and need that drags me in. Then . . . “I’m going to kill him for taking a piece of your heart away from me and then breaking it.”
    Pain. God, so much pain . Why am I not desensitized to it yet? I can’t harden that piece of my soul that’s forever exposed to Brayden, and the emotions he’s struggling with poke at it. Pierce it. Make it bleed all over again.
    I start trembling, tears leaking down my cheeks, too torn apart to control it.
    Brayden exhales like I’ve sliced him open, too, his jaw clenched against the torment.
    It’s the very last thing I should do, but I let myself squeeze his hand. His big, warm, tanned hand, with its broad, strong palm and long fingers. “I once would’ve given anything for this hand to belong just to me,” I whisper. For his whole body, but I don’t say it. I don’t need to.
    He tightens his hand around mine, his hold anxious. “It does. Every part of me.”
    I shake my head because we both know I’ll never let that happen again. Right now, I don’t hate him, but in the next few moments I will once more, and nothing he does or says will change that.
    I loved him too hard, too young, and he warped that for me. Ruined my ability to properly love. I have no clue what a healthy attraction even looks like and that’s all thanks to him.
    There’s no other option for me. I’ll have to learn, start from scratch. Scrape away years of negative association and somehow convince my mind to trust again.
    How could I ever do that with the same man who broke me in the first place?
    A man I can’t even publicly have.
    But right now, he’s hurting because I’m hurting. Willing to avenge a wrong he perceives had been done to me—he, the very man who has hurt me so bad—and I can only blame my weakened, messed-up mind for what I do