57. Reckless
Zander
She didn’t even look at me.
That was the part that destroyed me. Not Marcus’s fist. Not his warning. Not the blood running down my chin. Mara walked away, climbed into that truck, and didn’t look back. Not once. I stood there in the motel parking lot like a ghost, watching the truck disappear down the road until the taillights were gone. Then I just… broke.
The ride home was a blur. I don’t remember parking the bike or walking inside the house. The place still smelled like her. Her flowers on the porch. Her favorite mug in the kitchen. The hoodie she’d left on the back of the couch. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and drank straight from it until the room stopped spinning quite so violently.
It didn’t help.
Days blurred together after that. I drank
