Mistakebound - YBXVON

Chapter 10: Chaos

As I gradually opened my eyes, a yawn involuntarily escaped my lips, and I stretched, trying to shake off the intense pounding in my head. Trying to piece together the events of the previous night, a sharp cold sensation suddenly jolted me. That's when I realized I was only covered by a sheer sheet, barely concealing my naked body. I hastily grabbed the sheets, feeling the chill run through me, and tried to gather my thoughts.

But then, as if a dam had burst open, the memories came flooding back. I remembered Kentrell, his dark eyes and aggressive demanding behavior. His deep strokes and his hands roaming all over my body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. I remember the way he fucked me, the way his touch ignited every nerve in my body, making me crave more. And then there were his words, the way he slutted me out with his dirty talk, making me lose all sense of control.

But as the fog of pleasure lifted, the reality hit me like a ton of bricks. Kentrell was not just some random guy I fucked with for fun. He was the man who had committed a murder inside my own house and made me an unwilling accomplice. He was my murder partner. I couldn't believe what I had done. Panic and regret washed over me, and I quickly sat up, throwing the sheets off me.

"There's no way I slept with that nigga" I muttered to myself, slapping my forehead in disbelief.

But the evidence was right there in front of me, and I couldn't deny it. I had let my guard down and allowed myself to get swept away by the moment. But now, I was paying the price for my reckless actions.

Feeling disgusted with myself, I quickly got up and grabbed a towel before making my way to the shower. I needed to wash away the shame and guilt that was consuming me.

As I stepped under the hot water, I closed my eyes and let the steam and heat soothe my body. I couldn't believe how desperate I had become for physical intimacy that I had resorted to sleeping with a criminal.

The term 'criminal' reverberated in my mind. Wasn't I also a criminal for taking the life of an innocent girl years ago? Perhaps Kentrell and I are both perpetrators of evil. As the haunting flashbacks of that tragic incident resurface, my heart races, and the realization that I'm grappling with PTSD sets in. I attempt to push aside these distressing thoughts.

As I started scrubbing my skin, I also couldn't deny the fact that I had missed the feeling of having sex. The last time I had experienced it was in high school, before my unfortunate incarceration. 

As the water washed away my mistakes, I made a promise to myself to never let my guard down again. I couldn't let my desire for physical pleasure cloud my judgment and put myself in such situation. With a heavy heart, I turned off the shower and stepped out, feeling a little more relaxed but also a lot wiser.

As I made my way to my room, the towel wrapped tightly around my wet body, I couldn't help but feel a pang of panic as I glanced at my phone. The time read 12pm and I realized that I had forgotten to set an alarm yesterday. 

I hastily threw on my tight jeans and a tight cropped black sweater after quickly drying off my body with the towel. As I applied a light layer of makeup, I skipped my usual skincare routine, knowing that I still had to do my hair and time was slipping away.

I frantically searched for the perfect wig, settling on a mid-length, sleek, dirty blonde one. As I began installing it with practiced hands, my heart raced with nerves. I couldn't afford to be late for my job.

Once I finished with the edges, I slipped on a pair of black Jordans and made my way down the stairs, my mind whirling with thoughts. Without a second thought, I skipped the elevator and rushed down the stairs, pulling out my phone to call an Uber.

As I waited impatiently on the side of the street, the fear of being late consumed me. When the car finally arrived, I hurriedly climbed in and practically shouted at the driver to go faster.