Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

I am revved up, and to prove how I’m losing my mind by the second, I drive straight to his house. Letting myself in, I see Alec eating a sandwich on the couch and watching music videos.

“Where is he?”

He points up the stairs, and I take two at a time.

What am I doing? Why am I this desperate to feel something, anything? I’m lost in this black fog, and I don’t know how to escape it.

I guess tonight I forsake knocking and I bolt through his bedroom door.

He steps out of the shower, a towel hanging low on his strong thighs. That deep V ignites a fire in my belly. Focus, damn it. He threads his hand through his hair. A drop of water glides down his neck, and I swallow at the sight of his ripped body. And then I see it: a bold black cursive “A” topped by a princess crown with three peaks on it tattooed on his left pectoral. He wears my initial on his skin, right over his heart. A princess crown because I am his princess. Three peaks because three months is all the time we got to spend together.

My heart hums, experiencing elation for the first time in two years as if singing its endless love for him. I’ve endured so much loss and pain in the name of loving him, and I’d do it all again because we’re undeniable, even if our love ends up wrecking us. Emotions threaten to turn me into a sobbing mess, but I force my tears back. His tattoo for me balms those soul deep wounds, reminding me our love has been true and deep. It’s a wonder I can still stand after all the soaring highs and crushing lows his tattoo made me experience. He watches me watching him. It’s unnerving yet familiar.

“I fucked a supermodel. Her name started with an A. She left quite the impression.”

I should believe him, but I don’t because it’s a bold-faced lie. I am looking at the proof he inked onto his chest. Our love, just like his tattoo, is real. That’s the only thing I have to hold on to. But just like it’s real, it’s forbidden too, and I better not forget why it’s imperative to stay away.

“Really, asshole? That’s for me, and we both know it.”

My anger infuses me with this bout of confidence.

A deep sigh rocks his chest. “Not tonight, Abigail.”

“What was that back at the cliff? Are you so fucking afraid to lose or to lose to me?”

His entire demeanor stiffens. His muscles bulge with his heavy breathing. He stalks toward me, his eyes boring into me. I stay right where I am.

Chest to chest, I lift my face to him. What am I after? Why can’t I stop loving him? Why can’t I stop coming for him?

“Why are you so angry?” he whispers, not to scare me off or maybe not to awaken the part in him that has stopped loving me.

“I’m not angry, I’m competitive. There’s a difference.”

His jaw tics, and he jerks his chin to the door.

“Take your lying ass out of my room.”

“Why?” I shout at him.

I need that adrenaline like nothing in my life… to get lost in a few seconds of freedom.

“It wouldn’t have been a fair race. I would have beaten your ass.”

“Then I would have accepted that. Anyway, I won. Delete the pic.”

“I already did.”

Seconds tick by as we stare at each other, getting lost in each other.

“Why are you still here?”

“I don’t know,” I murmur.

“And that may be the first truth you’ve told since I met you.”

“Nothing was a lie.” It was a stupid wish of an even more stupid girl.

“Get out before I lose it, hearing you babbling the same old shit to me.”