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SIXTEEN

Author: J.O
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-30 06:15:21

MASON

Audrey snapped the second we pulled away from the house.

“You bastard,” she spat, her voice shaking with fury. “You think I didn’t see what you were doing under that table?”

I didn’t answer. I kept my eyes on the road, jaw locked tight, hands white around the steering wheel.

“You touched her,” she hissed. “God, you actually touched her.”

I felt her glare on the side of my face. The kind that could burn holes through skin.

“That girl? Seriously? She’s a slut, Mason. A nobody. And you—” she laughed bitterly. “You’re trash.”

I didn’t flinch. I deserved the words. Maybe worse. But I couldn’t make myself feel sorry.

Because all I could think about was the way Samantha had shivered when I slid my fingers along her thigh. The way she didn’t push me away. Her breath catching, barely there, but I felt it. I felt all of it.

It had been reckless. Stupid. A heat-of-the-moment thing.

But once I touched her, I couldn’t stop.

It was like my skin remembered hers—too soft, too warm. Too much.

An
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  • WRECK ME QUIETLY   SIXTY SEVEN

    SAMANTHA “I didn’t mean to fall for him, Mom,” I said, my voice cracking like a cheap glass. “I didn’t plan any of it.”My mom sat cross-legged on my old bed, wrapped in a soft blue robe, her hair pulled into a bun that had definitely seen better days.She didn’t look surprised. Just… still. Her eyes were wide but calm. The same look she gave me when I was fifteen and sobbed over my first heartbreak, certain I’d never recover.She didn’t interrupt. Didn’t ask questions.She just nodded.And that was all it took.The words tore out of me like they’d been waiting, crouched low and dangerous behind my ribcage. The affair. The guilt. The way Mason kissed me like I was oxygen and he hadn’t breathed in years. Audrey’s pregnancy. Macey’s silence.The way I couldn’t look at myself without flinching.I told her everything. Every ugly, tangled part of it.By the time I finished, I was on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, tears soaking through the sleeves of my hoodie. I felt small. Like a v

  • WRECK ME QUIETLY   SIXTY SIX

    MASONSweat dripped down my back, soaking the collar of my jersey. My gloves felt like bricks. I blinked the blur out of my eyes, but it wasn’t the sweat messing with me.It was her voice.“We’re too toxic, Mason. I can’t do this anymore.”I flinched before the puck even came near me, which is probably why I didn’t catch it. It clanked off my stick and skidded somewhere behind me.Coach’s whistle blew like a gunshot.“Come on, Carter!” He barked. “Focus!”I nodded automatically, pretending I was still here, on this ice, with this team, in this moment. But I wasn’t.My head was still stuck in last night. In that. In the way she’d looked at me like I’d already lost her.Because maybe I had.I tried to breathe through it. In. Out. Skated to reset.Next drill. Another pass.And another miss.“What the hell is going on with you?” Coach shouted from the sidelines. “That’s the third one!”I clenched my teeth and circled back in line, silent. Everyone was watching now. I felt it in the air, t

  • WRECK ME QUIETLY   AUTHOR'S NOTE

    We hit 1,000 views?! 😭🖤Excuse me while I scream into a pillow. A happy scream, obviously.A thousand views. A thousand hearts. A thousand moments where you chose my messy, chaotic, emotionally wrecking story over sleep, school, work, or sanity, and honestly? That’s love. That’s real love.When I started writing this, I thought maybe my roommate, my friends, and my sisters would be the only ones here. But y’all showed up. You stayed. You felt something. And that means everything to me.To every single person who’s read, shared, cried, yelled at my characters (they deserved it), or dropped an encouraging comment, thank you. You are the reason I keep writing. You are the reason this story has a pulse.This book is a mix of heartbreak, chaos, a bit of trauma, and a lot of love, and the fact that it’s found a space in your heart? I’m not crying; you are.We’re just getting started. More twists. More tension. More scenes that’ll make you scream, “I hate him but also… I love him??”To eve

  • WRECK ME QUIETLY   SIXTY FIVE

    SAMANTHAI didn’t mean to call him.My fingers just moved. Like they belonged to someone else. Like muscle memory had taken over.Like some deep, desperate part of me had crawled to the surface and dialed the only number I knew could still tether me to something that didn’t hurt.My chest was already shaking before I hit the green button. My thumb hovered, trembling, then pressed down.One ring.Two…“Princess?”My throat closed.“Daddy…” The word broke inside me. Like it had claws. My voice cracked, split wide open, and I felt it tear something loose inside. “I want to come home.”Silence.Not long.Just long enough for the ache to climb my spine and wrap around my ribs.Long enough for the tears to come again, violent and hot and wretched, even though I thought I was empty.But there it was.Grief. Shame. Loneliness. All of it collapsing on me.Then his voice came.Soft. Steady. Strong.Like it always had when I was five and convinced the shadows under my bed had teeth.“I’m going t

  • WRECK ME QUIETLY   SIXTY FOUR

    SAMANTHAI stared blankly at the ceiling.My pillow was soaked. My eyes burned. I hadn’t slept.I didn’t even feel tired anymore, just numb. Like everything inside me had been wrung out and left to dry.My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Again.I didn’t bother checking. But it buzzed one more time, persistent and annoying.I turned my head and squinted at the screen."Fashion Theory Test – 8:00 a.m."I groaned and flopped onto my side. “Perfect,” I muttered. “Just what I need.”I didn’t care.Let them fail me. Let the world burn. I was already drowning.Still, I dragged myself up and had my bath. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t know what else to do.I shuffled to the mirror. My reflection looked worse than I felt. Puffy eyes. Pale lips. Dull skin. My soul had given up hours ago, and apparently, my face followed.I didn’t try to fix it. What was the point?I grabbed a pair of old jeans from the floor. They were wrinkled and slightly damp, but I yanked them on anyway. Over

  • WRECK ME QUIETLY   SIXTY THREE

    SAMANTHAMy eyes stung. I’d cried so much, I didn’t even know how there were still tears left. Everything felt swollen—my face, my chest, my heart.I was curled into the corner of the couch, knees hugged to my chest. Wrapped in Mason’s hoodie because I was pathetic like that. Because it still smelled like him.Liam sat beside me, quiet and calm. His presence was the only thing holding me together.He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t push. He just handed me tissues every few minutes and let me break without needing to explain.There was no music. No TV. Just the soft sound of my own breathing between tears. And him."You can cry, Sam,” he said gently. His voice was so soft it almost didn’t feel real. “Just let it out. Don’t hold back on my account.”I nodded, lips trembling. I couldn’t even get out a “thank you.” It stuck in my throat like everything else. Regret. Shame. Pain.So much pain.Liam leaned back a little, giving me space, but his arm stayed resting behind me on the couch. Li

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