Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

Rachel managed a small smile, nodding. She was no longer crying but the tear stains still painted her face, the black run of her mascara smudged along her cheek.
When he turned around, eyeing Victor, he cocked his head towards the doorway and sighed silently. Leaving Skye was getting harder, even though he knew she was safe, and it pained him and caused a burning sorrow to course through his body. He longed for her heart now, it wasn’t as simple as it all had once been—before he met

her.
As he left the restroom, he gave one final glance back at Skye. She was slowly moving herself beside Rachel and against the wall, her small frail body clinging to itself as she stared longingly after him. He saw it there, in that moment, that he wasn’t alone in the feelings he had towards her. Everything they shared…it was all real, depth, beautiful

. And he was sure that it was how it should be. No matter how much of a consequence it could carry later on.
Smiling, he left, giving her the space she needed while he waited in the near distance, his thoughts not once ceasing to be about her.
Ducking Skye’s head in her knees, she wrapped her arms around them and curled inward, trying to separate herself from the world and situation around her. All she wanted to do was cry, to refrain from holding her emotions in. She could hardly breathe, trapped in her own solitude of weighing emotion and regret.
“Skye, can I help you?” Rachel asked her. The sound of her voice was so quiet, so gentle and sweet that it almost broke Skye’s heart. She didn’t deserve to have such a support system beside her. And now that Rachel knew little about Johnny, she had actual support beside her dealing with him too.
Although, none of that could change how wrong she felt—how used

she felt. Maybe she had been saved from Bryan for the time being, but she was sure that he wasn’t finished with her. She was certain.
And she couldn’t call Jules for help.
She didn’t want to even think

about that. The thoughts detested her, and she was finding herself ill and queasy, unnerved. She not only hated what Bryan was trying to do to her but she hated how she almost let it happen to her. It was those

moments when she fell short, almost giving into him, those

were the moments that could have broken her completely, shattering any chances of hope in life she had.
Fighting with herself, she tried to push the thoughts away, telling herself that she did nothing wrong. But she kept asking herself the same aching question, over and over again.
If I did nothing wrong, than why do I feel so guilty?

It was impossible for her to imagine a right answer. She was too weary and her body was throbbing and aching from the beating she had succumbed to. All she could do was lecture herself in means to her sorrow. She also wanted to lecture herself about making Jules leave, even if she couldn’t stand to have him so close to her.
She knew from her heart that she needed him, whether the closeness would recreate something she didn’t need or not. She needed her handsome, kind savior, who, once again, saved her from Bryan.
Shedding one last tear, her well ran dry and she slowly pulled her shaky body upright. Peering over at Rachel, she blinked a few times to clear her sight and wiped away at the gliding tears, her pale hand shaking from the aftermath.
“Hey,” she said quietly, choking on her own tears. “Thanks for getting them out, I just…” she trailed off, failing to find the right words.
Rachel smiled, just barely. “I know, Skye. It’s okay now,” she assured her, rubbing her arm.
Skye fought the urge to cry, the burning sensation lodged in the back of her throat; but she was done crying. Her well had run dry and it wasn’t the time for it to magically fill up again.
“He promised me something—Bryan—right before they broke the door open,” she told her best friend, a mournful expression taking place of the previously calm one. “He promised me that he wasn’t going to let me leave him, that I would always be his

. He promised

me that he would do whatever it takes to keep me, even if it meant Jules had to go.”—at this point her voice was quivering, and she had to close her eyes and hold her stomach not

to puke—“Rachel, I think he wants to kill Jules, just so that he can be sure I’m with him. And I don’t want to be with him. I don’t want to be kept prisoner by him any longer, he’s revolting

.” She was shaking erratically, her voice so quiet that she could tell Rachel was having a hard time hearing her. She was having a hard time hearing herself.
When she noticed, really

noticed, how freaked out Rachel looked—her mouth hanging open, eyes wide, brows furrowed with concern—she wanted to give up and curl away, to disappear into nothing. It frightened her. The disturbed, horrified, and dominantly saddened expression she was giving her. Seeing that sort of uncomfortable surprise in her own friend made her want to take it all back, pretend it never happened. But it did, and Rachel was the only one she could

tell.
Closing her gaping mouth, Rachel closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath. She didn’t look into Skye’s eyes when she asked her a strikingly important question. “If he wants to kill Jules, why didn’t he try something before leaving?”
Skye shivered; her body was suddenly ice-cold despite the warmth of summer. “Probably because he knew he couldn’t really do anything, here, in a public place like such. He’s disgusting and delusional, yes; but he’s not stupid, Rachel. He’s a lot smarter than we give him credit for. That we’ve ever

given him credit for.” She explained. She wasn’t one hundred percent positive about her explanation but she was ninety-nine percent sure.
Rachel sighed; sorrow had assaulted her in a matter of moments. “I’m sure you’re right. But what can you do about it? The only thing you should do is go to the police about the threats and about him

. He needs to be locked away for what he’s been trying and wanting to do.”
Skye couldn’t agree more in one regard. She really wanted him to be locked up and away from her so that she could be safe from him again. But part of her couldn’t let herself give up on him so easily, couldn’t do something that would ruin him when she knew there could be other ways for her to help him. She had to at least try

. No matter how much she hated him.
“No, I don’t want to do that. I can’t

do that. We really don’t have any substantial evidence that Jules is in danger, or that Bryan’s going to try to hurt me again. You know how it works, they need liable proof.”
Rachel shook her head, fighting it. “But Skye, he hurt you. He practically stripped you of everything. And there were basically three witnesses. I mean, how could that not be substantial enough?”
Skye wasn’t sure. Though, for some incredible reason, she wanted to protect Bryan from jail, even if it meant he would still be out there able to abuse her again. She knew she hated it, but there was that part of her that couldn’t resist giving him another chance to save himself—whether he deserved it or not.
She shuddered, thinking back to the moments when his lips crashed against hers and his tongue invaded her mouth, threatening to make her gag.
“I don’t know, Rachel. But please, don’t say anything to anyone and just trust me, alright? I need you to promise me that you’ll stay out of it all, please.” She said, regarding Rachel with her best serious and threatening glance. She needed to know that Rachel got the picture. She needed to know that she wasn’t going to go blab everything to her boyfriend or anyone for that matter.
Her own safety could depend on it.
“Fine, Skye. But I hope you know what you’re doing, ‘cause to me, it all seems very risky and dangerous. And I don’t want you getting hurt again, Skye, you’ve already taken too much. I promise I’ll stay out of it, but I have one more question.”
Skye nodded, telling her that she could go on. She, despite her own fear and pain from the situation, looked much better, settled at least.
“If Bryan’s so set on getting Jules out of the picture, then how are you going to stop him?”
Skye was taken aback a little, but all the same, she expected as much coming from Rachel, from anyone. Taking a long, deep breath, she answered, “I’m going to give him what he needs. I’m going to tell him that, for me, he needs to get help. It’s the only way Jules will be safe.”
Rachel didn’t trust it. “Do you really think that it will work?”
“If I can get through to him, than yes, I do.”
“But that’s such a big ‘if’, Skye. What if

it doesn’t go how you plan? What if

he hurts you again? I can’t just stand by watching my best friend put herself in danger like this. I won’t.”
Skye, feeling the grief well up inside of her, sighed. “Please Rachel, you have to. I’m going to be careful. I’m not going to let him hurt me ever again, okay? Trust me.” Hearing those words, trust me

, come out of her mouth seemed so foreign. She was always the one to hear those words, never say them.
“Okay, okay. But you have to be careful, promise me you won’t go near him without pepper spray?”
Skye almost laughed, even though her stomach was still queasy and her body still ached from everything he put her through. “Pepper spray? Rachel, I don’t know if I need it, I mean he’s—”
“Promise me, Skye.” Rachel cut her off, narrowing her brows at her, a deep worried look spreading across her face. “Take pepper spray, or at least something to defend yourself, and don’t let him get to you. You have to promise me you’ll be careful.”
Sighing, she nodded her head, not entirely sure she wanted to go through with it. “I promise. I’ll be careful.”
Rachel smiled, sure that she had gotten her to do the right thing in a situation to those extremes. “Are you feeling okay? Can we go? I’m sure it’s got to feel bad being in here after what he…tried with you.”
“Rachel, he didn’t exactly try that. But, you’re right, I want to go. I just may need some help getting out of here; I’m a little weak.”
Rachel managed a smile and slid her arm under Skye’s, supporting her as they stood up. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Skye winced as pain inflamed in her wounds and new aching muscles, and her legs wobbled, barely