Deep (Heavy Hearts Book 2) by Sarah Duncan (reading tree txt) 📕

and let my skin turn pink under the burn while I cry silently, needing to take this moment alone to let it out.

Why haven’t the police found him yet? Are they even looking? Knowing he’s still out there somewhere is turning me into a crazed bitch. Surely he wouldn’t be idiotic enough to stay in Fox Pines? He’s on parole, for fuck's sake. He legally can’t leave the state, although what he did to me wasn’t legal either, so why would he care? With any luck, he will be caught soon, and then I will be free to try and live a normal life.

Getting out of the shower, I avoid looking at myself in the mirror and make no attempt to wipe away the fog. While going to Garrett’s house was nice, I haven’t had a chance to go for a run or punch out my frustrations on the boxing bag.

Glancing down, my eyes catch on the shaver resting on the sink. Shit! My heart races, and I brace my hands on the bench-top forcing my eyes away from it. There’s a reason I started beating the shit out of the bag in the garage and running on the treadmill until the burning pain gets so intense that I can no longer feel anything. While it’s helping me to feel stronger, the real reason I started doing it has everything to do with that razor.

My eyes flick to it again, and I feel like screaming. I don’t understand why I feel like this, but I have an overwhelming need to remove the blade and slice it over my skin. It’s completely fucked up and scares the shit out of me! I’ve never had such an impulse. Never considered physically harming myself until I arrived home from the city.

“You’re so fucked in the head,” I say out loud to myself, attempting to shake myself out of the funk I’m in right now. The few times I’ve had this feeling, I’ve managed to drag myself away before following through, and instead, burn off the emotions and impulses in the garage.

It’s late now, though. I really need to be winding down for the day, and somehow try to turn off my overthinking brain, so I dig deep and turn away from the bench to snatch up my PJ shorts that are in a crumpled heap on the floor. Once they are on, I move to grab my Three Days Grace t-shirt that I hung over the towel rail this morning, only it isn’t there.

“What the fuck!” I’m sure I put it there this morning. Just like I’m sure I put my Metallica t-shirt there the morning before.

Moving into my mum’s room, I glance around searching for my missing clothes, but my t-shirt isn’t here either. Shit, I have no top to put on.

Throwing on my crop top, I leave my mum’s room and walk through the house, scanning every piece of furniture or bench-top for my t-shirt as I go. It’s not in the kitchen, not in the laundry, or hanging out on the line under the patio either. Marching past the living room, and ignoring Shaun when he calls out to me, I go upstairs to my room.

The doors are back on now, thanks to the boys. I hesitate for a moment, anxiety racing my heart in fear of not knowing what’s on the other side of the door. It’s ridiculous. It makes no sense for me to be panicking about this, so I hold my breath and turn the knob, opening the door. My heartbeat pounds in my ears when I’m met with darkness. Snaking my quivering hand inside the door frame, I feel for the light switch and flick it on quickly.

“Wanna tell me why you’re walking around half-naked?” Shaun’s voice causes me to jump, a scream ripping from my lips.

“What the fuck, Bossi!” I hiss, clutching my chest, turning to look at him standing behind me. “Did you have to sneak up on me?”

“Ah… I didn’t sneak Lex. Those stairs are creaky as fuck. I couldn’t sneak up them if I tried.”

He has a point. They are creaky. I know exactly where to step to make little noise, but he doesn’t.

“Sorry, Shaun.” If I’m not careful, he’s going to see right past my attempt at hiding how fucked up I really am and do a runner, probably taking the other boys with him. Then I’ll be all alone again.

“Ah, Lex? Why are you only wearing a bra and shorts?” Shaun’s steel-grey gaze travels over my body.

“Did I say you could look at me like that?” I raise a brow at him and then return my sights to looking for my t-shirt.

“I’m a guy. Tits and arse turn my brain into mush. Besides, you’ve got it all going on, Lexi. It’s hard to think straight around you when you’re fully clothed. Don’t expect much from me when you’re wearing next to nothing.”

I give up on looking for my t-shirt and grab my Slipknot one from my draw, quickly covering up.

“Better?” I ask Shaun, and he drags his eyes to my legs.

“I also like legs.”

“Fucking hell Shaun.” Shaking my head at him, I slip past and head to the upstairs bathroom. I put my hand on the doorknob to open it but freeze, unable to go through with it. Dropping my hand, I step back.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Shaun slips his hand in mine and wraps his other one over the top, drawing my attention from the bathroom door.

“I’m trying to find my t-shirt.”

“You think it’s in there?” He asks, looking at the closed door.

I shrug.

“You don’t want to go in there?” His question is more like a statement. He’s obviously putting two and two together. “How about I go in there and look for it?” He asks, and I nod gratefully.

“It’s a black Three Days Grace t-shirt. While you’re there, can you check if my Metallica one is in there too? It’s also black.”

“Sure, chickadee. Be right back.” Shaun drops my