Our Broken Pieces

Mystic~

I wasn't self-loathing.

I really wasn't.

So, even though I was lying, it still rang of the truth. Gage Evans was a god and I...well, I was just short, thick, bland Mystic Anderson, and it was fact. I didn't stand out. I didn't stand out, and I was okay with that. However, even if I did look like Margot or had her likeable personality, I still would have kept my secret from the world. I wasn't ready for everyone to know about me and Gage, but I guess that didn't matter anymore. Gage's announcement had probably reached the backyard by now.

Now, while I'd known that Dillon grabbing my hand had been a bad thing, I never would have guessed that it would have bothered Gage enough to go all caveman on me, and now our secret was out. Our secret was out, and my best friend was hurt and angry, and I didn't blame her. After all, I would have been, too.

"That's bullshit," she spat. "You are beautiful, Mys. Any guy would be lucky to date you."

"And I am," Gage growled next to me, and I just closed my eyes in defeat as he kept talking. "We're sorry we kept this from you, but we don't have to explain our reasons to anyone, and that includes you two."

"That's fucked up, G," Chance snapped as he went to stand next to Margot in a united front.

I felt Gage place his hand on the small of my back, and my breath hitched with how he was finally touching me in public after all these years.

It felt...strange.

I opened my eyes just as he addressed Chance. "Oh, yeah? Just like you told me how much you liked Margot before this week? Like that?"

"C'mon, dude," Chance grimaced. "It's not the same thing, and you know it."

"You guys have been together for four years and never said anything," Margot chimed in. "That's fucked-up, whether you guys want to admit it or not."

"Mar-"

"I thought we were best friends, Mystic. I...don't know what to think now," she said, and it was clear that she was upset, and the booze probably wasn't helping any.

"I'm sorry," I replied, and I was.

I really was sorry, but that was all that I could give her. I couldn't tell her the real reason that I'd kept Gage a secret from her, but I was also afraid that she was going to find out eventually anyway. There was no way Gage and I could be around each other and not...cave.

"So am I," Margot whispered right before she turned her back on me, then walked out of the room.

I stood there heartbroken as I watched Chance run after her, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe. All these years of hiding who we were when we were together was being threatened, and all because Gage hadn't been able to rein in his emotions.

I turned to look up at him. "Why?"

His face was pure male fury when he replied, "Because he was touching you like he had the right to, Mystic." He stepped forward until his chest touched mine, and I had to tilt my head all the way back to hold his gaze. "Nobody gets to touch you but me. Nobody."

"Gage...what you did..."

I couldn't even finish my sentence. I felt...exposed. Even though no one knew the true nature of mine and Gage's relationship, I still felt exposed; exposed and vulnerable. Then I started trembling when his eyes started burning like blue flames because I knew that look.

Gage was about to lose it.

We were in public, and Gage was about to go to that dark place in his mind where his conscience didn't exist. Now that our relationship was public, nothing was stopping him from owning me whenever he wanted to versus only acting on his desires when he needed to, and it was a dangerous thing for us to have this kind of freedom. Gage could barely control himself as it was. With this newfound...access to my body, I wasn't sure if there'd be any chance of reining him in.¶

"Gage...?"

His blue eyes danced down my body, then back up before he took another step towards me as he snarled, "You ever wear a skirt when I'm not around again, and you'll regret it, Mystic. I'll make sure you never think of wearing one ever again for the rest of your life."

I wanted to cry.

This was why I was sick.

This was why I knew that I was broken.

His words were making me want to run out, then buy a boatload of skirts just to force him to make good on his threat, and it made me feel dirty and...just absolutely wretched.

Shame.

Shame was what should have accompanied every desire, every encounter, and every orgasm, because I didn't want to feel this way. I didn't want to feel this dark need.

I wanted to be normal.

I wanted to feel normal.

Instead, I was at the mercy of a boy that was every bit as dark as I was. I was addicted to knowing that someone could see just how broken I was and wanted me because of it. Gage wasn't repulsed by the things that I craved. He didn't judge me, and he made those disgusting desires that I felt...manageable. He made me feel goddamn beautiful, and it weakened everything inside of me that should seek help for my issues. Graduation was going to be both my salvation and my undoing.

"Gage, we have to find Margot and Cha-"

"I don't give a fuck about Margot and Chance right now," he snapped. "I want to know why the fuck you're dressed like you're trolling for dick. Is that why Dillon thought it was okay to treat you like you were available?"

I glared up at him. "That's not fair," I snapped back. "I was just trying to look nice for Margot's party. For once."

Heedless of the curious people that were still milling about, Gage wasn't toning down his irritation with me. He grabbed my upper arm, then yanked me forward until my chest was pressed up against his body. "Do you need me to fuck you right here in front of everyone, so that you finally believe me when I say you're beautiful?"

My head reared back in shock. I didn't really think he'd fuck me in front of a crowd of people, but it was his words that were throwing me for a loop. "You've never told me I was beautiful," I pointed out.

His head jerked upward, and his eyes began to search the room. As soon as his eyes landed on the guest bathroom, he grabbed my hand, then dragged me behind him until we were inside the bathroom. Luckily, it'd been empty, and Gage immediately locked the door behind us.

He stalked me until my back was pressed up against the counter, and then he leaned in, planting his hands on the counter, caging me in. The boy looked pissed as he said, "I always tell you that you're beautiful."

"No, you don't," I countered as I shook my head. "The only time you tell me I'm beautiful is when I'm covered in your cum, blood, or bruises."

His right hand shot out, then snaked up the back of my neck, grabbing a handful of my hair, making sure it was a painful hold. I grimaced, and he smiled a smile laced with evil.

"Because that's when you're at your most beautiful, Mystic," he replied, his voice a dark tenor of need. "I can't stop staring at you after you've let me use you because you're fucking stunning when you're broken."