Seared Into My Brain Novels & Stories

Because the taste of him stuck on my tongue, the heat of him still clung to my skin, and yet Tristan’s name was carved into my bones like a brand. And Tate knew it. Fuck.

Every sound he made, every movement, every goddamn thing—it was burned into me, seared into my brain like a brand. I didn't know how long I stayed there, lost in the torturous pull of him. But when I finally blinked, my body shuddering as release hit, all I could do was curse under my breath. I ran a trembling hand through my hair, shaking my head as disgust and frustration sank in. It was all his fault. I took a step back, my jaw locked tight as I wiped my hand against the rough wall of the house. My fingers trembled as I dragged my jeans up, forcing composure into my shaky breaths.

The vivid image haunted me, lingering in my thoughts at all hours. I couldn't believe it was on my mind so much since it occurred that I was even dreaming about it now. The incident had been unexpectedly shocking, leaving a deep impression on me. I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around it, trying to understand how such a situation could impact me like this.

The cool water washed down my dry throat and cleared my head a little. But the companionable sadness that taking root in my mind could never be shaken. Each time I woke up, my mind was instantly plagued by the years of undying trauma accumulated in my brain. Sometimes I looked at a corner of my bedroom and flinched as if a glass vase would be randomly flying at me. The scar under my hair throbbed sometimes, even though it was an old scar.

I hold myself, the residue of pain still locked in my brain. Crazy woman. What the hell did I do?

Lizzy The whole day after our little sex drive, I was tired as hell but it was a good kind of tired and the smile on my face never left even for a minute. Every memory from last night was carved in my brain with so much precision, it was like a DVD being played in HD quality and my stupid brain kept playing it over and over again making me blushed every half an hour, it was quite embarrassing really, ‘it was just sex Lizzy’ I remind myself, why does it affect me so much then?

“What I was before? I’m still ” But the words caught in my throat. Because suddenly… A memory hit me. Hard. Like someone slapped it into my skull

My mind raced, struggling to piece together the fragments of her warning. She screamed louder this time, “Run.” “Run.” The word pounded in my head, reverberating through my skull with a force that made me want to tear my hair out. It was suddenly too much. My brain hurt, the intensity of the moment overpowered my senses, and then it all shattered into a single memory—the moment I had stood up to Carmine Moreno. Tears slid down my face, hot and unchecked. I clutched my head, desperate to silence the noise. “Please, stop it. Stop it.”

I stated, my towering six-foot-four frame rising slowly from the leather chair. My long shadow stretched across the concrete floor, geometric and severe under the blue light of the terminals. I looked down at the violet smudge on my chest, my heart hammering a sudden, intense thoracic variance of ninety-four beats per minute as the memory of her small, bare chest pressing against my tactical top flooded my conscious processing field. She had branded me. She had altered the core code of my machine brain with her wet, pigment-stained fingers, and there was no algorithm in existence that could purge her presence from my architecture.

And I was more than happy to show him. *** As days turned into weeks, I found myself consumed by thoughts of Sean. It was infuriating. No matter how hard I tried to push him out of my mind, he lingered there like a stubborn stain, refusing to be erased. Everywhere I went, his presence haunted me, a constant reminder of the power he held over me.