Goddess of Pain - Katie May Page 0,55
elaborate, “On the wound, jackass. Press down until I’m screaming in pain.”
His mouth opens, closes, and then immediately opens once more. He looks confused, and honestly, a little terrified, as if he’s questioning my mental stability.
“I need more pain,” I explain in a prolonged exhale. “I think I’ll be able to heal myself.”
“Fuck no!” He holds both hands up in the air, still coated with my blood, as he stares at me with barely veiled disgust and horror. “I’m not going to hurt you!”
“You love hurting me,” I argue with an eye roll.
Anger flares to life briefly in his dark gaze, and his hands, still raised, clench into fists.
“I never like hurting you.” The vow vibrates through me, almost like an intense burst of electricity, and a flurry of shivers skip through my veins. His eyes lock on mine, ensnaring my own like a trap laid artfully beneath debris and leaves in a forest. Fucking Tate. And fuck the way he makes me feel.
“You hurt me all the damn time.” I mentally berate myself when my voice shakes, when pain flays me open like a whip repeatedly raining down on my spine.
Tentatively, I bring my hand to the bloody wound and stick one finger into the hole. I’m sure there’s a perverted joke somewhere in there, but I’m too lost in the agony to think of one.
“Fucking stop it!” Tate bellows, his pain as thick and cloying as my own. He scrubs a hand through his messy dark hair as I press down harder, biting my lip to hold in the anguished sob that wants to escape. I can feel my power festering in the pit of my stomach. It’s still small, now a flame instead of an ember, but I know I can feed it until it grows into a blazing inferno, capable of setting this entire fucking world on fire.
And maybe that’s what this world deserves for what it did to me.
“Emily!” Tate lunges forward, but I stealthily dance away from him.
“Stop acting like you care!”
“You don’t think I care?” He laughs, but the sound is dry and humorless. It cuts at my skin like a blunt-edged razor blade. “All I fucking do is care!” With wild, desperate eyes, he towers over me. “You’re all I fucking care about!”
“Then why do you push me away?” I demand. And fuck…the pain in my shoulder is nothing compared to the pain in my heart. “All we do is fight and fuck and then fight some more. That’s not healthy, Tate.”
Tears blur my vision as my fingers caress something hard and metallic. The bullet. The fucking bullet. Wincing against the inevitable pain this will bring, I begin to dig it out. Already, my head spins wildly as I struggle against the encroaching darkness threatening to drag me under. If I pass out, I’ll be so freaking pissed.
Tate’s face contorts with unbridled rage. He reminds me of a bomb ready to explode with only the slightest provocation. “You don’t need me,” he states at last, voice brimming with anguish. “You have the others. You don’t need someone like me, someone as fucked up and as angry as me.” He begins to pace, repeatedly scratching at his tan arms, and I watch him warily. When he spins abruptly to face me once more, there’s something manic in his expression, something that rivals even Sin. “You have Desmond as your best friend and confidant. Helio as your protector. Avery as the one you can turn to when you need comfort. Hell, even Sin is able to make you laugh, and that fiery bastard protects you with everything inside of him. What can I offer you? What can I give you?”
“Tate—”
Slowly, the pain from my shoulder begins to recede as my emotional pain amplifies. I can feel my flesh stitching itself back together, but it’s barely a blip on my radar. All I can see is Tate—the hurt, anguish, and fear in his eyes, as if at any second, I’ll run away from him and never look back.
“You’re going to leave me,” he whispers brokenly as he collapses onto the ground. He lowers his head into his hands as his shoulders begin to shake.
“Tate.” Very carefully, I perch on the floor beside him. “You stupid fucking asshole. You’re the God of Deception, and right now, you’re deceiving yourself.” His head snaps up as he blinks at me through watery eyes.
“What the hell are you going on about, woman?” he rasps.
“You’re delusional if you think I’ll