********CONTINUATION******
I was angry. Scrap that I am furious, furious at him, at myself at the moon goddess for playing us like puppets, for making him hurt me, for hating him for the wrong reasons. Furious that I believed his words, that I took his words and saw myself as nothing less than a s*x object. Furious at myself for whoring around all these years, so that I could get a particular image of him out of my head and mind.
"Jared, please, I__."
Brandon brushed his fingers over my hand, and I withdrew my hand. Reflex. I didn't mean to, but right now, his touch wasn't soothing anymore; it felt like poison, and I am the poison, the scum, the filth he shouldn't be touching.
He tried to grab my hands, and I drew back,
"Don't touch me."
I snapped standing on my feet.
My stat
