Free Misplaced Trust (Misjudged) by Sarah Elizabeth

believe any of this, I take a step away from him. I can’t believe this is happening.
    I want to go back. I want to go back to Christmas. I want to go back eigh teen months and change things. I want to be able to go back and change everything.
    “Alexis, please,” he steps towards me, and so I take another step back.
    I thought he loved me. I had never imagined he would use somebody, use me in this way, just to get what he wanted. He took my heart, and then he threw it away when he no longer needed it. When he no longer needed me.
    “Why? Why would you do this?” I whisper, “You let me fall in love with you.” I feel the bile rising in my throat when I think back to the other night, with visions flooding into my mind of Brandon and I, and what we did together.
    He fucked me. Neil was right.
    He fucked me … and I let him.
    “It’s not what it looks like,” he answers, cautiously taking a step forward, an overwhelming appearance of sorrow now present in his eyes, “I need to explain, please?” he sounds desperate.
    Trying to breathe when my chest feels this tight hurts. It hurts as much as the pain that’s stabbing right through my heart again, but this time it feels a whole lot worse than it did before. Shaking my head and not being able to think straight, I back away, and I keep backing away until I’m stepping into the alleyway.
    Brandon’ s begins to follow me, watching me with a pained expression filling his features, “Alexis, I didn’t …” his voice trails as he closes his eyes, his head dropping low before he begins walking towards me with a little more urgency. “Beautiful, I swear I didn’t …”
    I can see his lips moving as he carefully and cautiously approaches me, but t he loud pounding in my head, caused by my accelerating pulse rate, is stopping any other sounds from reaching my ears. My eyes are still on him as I keep stepping away, and I see Harry, Zach, whoever the fuck he is, placing his hand in front of Brandon, stopping him from getting any closer to me.
    It was a lie. It was all a lie.
     
    ***
     
    I have absolutely no idea what the time is as I walk through the main door and into the empty living area. Heading straight into the bathroom, I gaze at my reflection in the mirror, seeing a tear streaked mess with bulging red eyes staring back at me. I look hideous, but I feel a whole lot worse.
    He once told me that I was naive, and he was right. It was ridiculous of me to think that I was in any way special to him. He played me. Big time.
    The cops were right. He u sed me to get what he needed, although I still have no idea whatsoever what that something was. We discussed my mom, of course we did, but he never once asked any questions relating to either her career, or his case.
    He opened up to me about Holly, and I listened. I spoke about my mom, and he listened. We were there for each other, or at least I thought we were.
    Grabbing a tissue and wiping the remnants of mascara away from my cheeks, I try not to allow any more tears to flow, although I don’t think that it’s possible for me to cry again right now anyway. I’m exhausted, both emotionally and physically.
    Throwing the tissue into the trash by the corner, I head back through to the living ar ea. Taking my usual spot by the couch, I go to switch off the table lamp before settling down for the night, and that’s when I hear Neil’s bedroom door swinging open.
    He only has to take one look at me before he’s by my side within a heartbeat, “What is it? Alex, what the fuck’s wrong?” he sounds anxious, lifting my chin with his hand so I’ll look at him. “Tell me!”
    It takes a while for me to even try and say the words out loud, and I find myself shaking my head at him, with tears rolling down my cheeks again, “They were right, Neil. They were right about him,” my voice is dry as I try to enlighten him on the events of the evening.
    “Who was right? Alex, you’re scaring me a little here,” his eyes