That Which Destroys Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

and a white eyelet strapless bustier top, I slipped my old ugly black rubber flip flops on and ran out the back door to avoid being seen when Sam honked his horn for me to hurry my ass up.
    His reaction to my choice of clothing was exactly what I was hoping to achieve from Wesley.
    Sadly, that night was not only the night I lost every ounce of hope to ever find or believe in love. It was also the night I lost the only friend I’d ever had, as well as the last remaining vital part of my soul.
    As soon as we pulled up to the beach at the lake I kicked my ugly flip-flops off and jumped from Sam’s truck. Excitement was zipping through me as soon as my toes sank into the sand.
    Make a note of this moment, because this is the last time in my childhood that giddiness would ever consume my already grim life. Morosely, it would also be the turning page in my life, the domino that is tipped and leads to my being homeless and truly knowing what life is like with absolutely nothing.
    I skipped over to where the keg was when I saw that Wesley was the one handing out the red solo cups of beer. I’d never drank before, but what the hell? I wanted to act as old as I looked.
    After waiting for the five people in front of me to collect their cup I walked up smiling at Wes, waiting, hanging on his every word and body movement.
    He never even spared a glance in my direction. His fist pumped the keg filling the cup. Then he handed it to me before grabbing some chick’s ass as she walked by. Somehow, I managed to blink the tears away and swallow the lump in my throat, then I tucked my tail between my legs and quickly walked away.
    Sad, huh? I know. There is honestly nothing that leaves a deeper wound than being so that when you do, in that fleeting moment, everything you’ve obsessed about and yearned for - for months - would all finally transpire. Only it doesn’t.
    I wholly believed that entire squabble of bullshit for merely five more hours of my life. Having drunk more than three cups of beer, I knew my ass needed to keep itself planted right where it was: On the log near the bonfire Wes had made. Yep. He walked right past me, dragging logs then dry grass before sitting on his haunches less than two feet away and kindled a fucking fire. He never looked my way, not one damn time.
    Most of the party guests had either left or wandered into the surrounding woods to take their groping a few hundred steps further while I sat and stared into the fire until nothing but embers remained.
    I wasn’t naïve, being molested the first three or four years of my life, then raped repeatedly by my father as well as two different foster fathers… I knew what the hell was going on. I’d just never, well besides Wesley, actually wanted to participate in any petting or groping, much less taking it further.
    I heard some yelling coming from the woods to my left, but shrugged it off and kept stabbing the embers with the stick I’d found and had been hanging out with for the last two hours.
    I was a little shocked when Sam and Courtney came out of the woods. I covertly ducked my head and watched from beneath the veil of my hair only to witness her rearing back and slapping him across the face. Snickering too low for anyone to hear, I went back to poking the coals and charred wood.
    A few minutes later Sam stumbled over to me, “Stell, come on. Time to go.”
    “Thank God! Sorry, but this party freaking blew.” I stood up dusting the sand off my ass and started following Sam as we made our way to the parking area. Once we were close enough to Sam’s truck, I realized Wes’s truck was parked diagonally in front of Sam’s. When I saw him stand on unsteady feet and begin unbuckling his belt and pull his thing out, I blushed in embarrassment and then mouthed “Thank you, Jesus.”
    A smirk crept its way onto my face, but quickly dissolved when I heard a female voice purring right before Wes told her, “Goddamn right you little whore. Fucking suck that