Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
The second her back meets the trunk, Maybel charges at me. Only my football training and reflexes, grown at the hands of my father’s abuse, allow me to catch her wrists before she makes contact with my neck or face.
"Let go of me," she screeches, and I tighten my grasp. The hand bared in claws relaxes, but the other, with the bottle clutched tight, still holds on.
All I can think then is… What happened to my flower?
My subconscious takes a second to remind me.
You smashed her into a million fucking pieces.
"If you stop trying to attack me, then I can let you go, but if you’re going to continue being crazy, I’ll have to restrain you for both our safety.”
Eyes narrowed to slits, she moves closer, her chest pressing into mine. I think she's relaxing, and my own grip goes lax as I prepare to release her, but it’s a mistake on my part because all it does is give her room to pull her hand back, giving her the momentum she needs to slap me. My head swings to the sides from the impact.
I grit my teeth and recover quickly, anger seeping into my veins. With lightning-fast reflexes, I wrap my hand around the column of her throat and give it a little squeeze, becoming mesmerized by the fear that slips into her eyes. I crave her fear, her submission. I get off controlling her every breath, and I know it’s fucked up and wrong, but I don’t care.
"I know I hurt you. I fucking get it, but don't fucking hit me. That’s your warning, Bel. Do it again, and I’ll put you on your knees."
I release her before I do something crazy, like strangle her until she passes out. Maybe if I kidnap her and trap her somewhere, I can seduce her with enough orgasms to forgive me?
Or piss Sebastian off enough to kill me.
The fear trickles away from Bel, and she’s glaring at me again. I take a step back, hoping some distance might cool her off, but she charges forward again, her hand back ready to land another hit. The thing is, I’m sober, faster, and I’ve been beat the majority of my life.
She’s lost the battle before she’s even tried. I sidestep her hit, and she misses me, and her hand flies through the air, making a swishing sound. The sting in my cheek reminds me of the first strike she got on me, and when she tries a third time and misses again, I can’t help but wonder how she thinks this will fix things.
"What are you doing, Maybel? Is this going to help you? Will hurting me fix us?”
I’m close to making good on my promise of putting her on her knees, but I hesitate, wanting to give her a chance. She huffs and takes a long swig of her vodka, which she has somehow managed to keep in her hands, her body remaining upright. Swallowing it down, she continues to glare, her warm breath billowing out in little clouds of smoke.
"I can’t believe you would ask me such a stupid question. One measly slap is not going to make up for all the pain you caused me.”
It's my turn to huff out a hot exhale. "Okay, and you think kissing another man will help?”
There's something in her eyes now, something closer to guilt, but not quite.
I shake my head. "This is revenge. You want to hurt me so I’ll know exactly what it felt like that night you had to see me with Spencer.” I lick my lips and cross the space between us, using my body to crowd her all over again. "Did it make you feel better?"
She squeezes her lips shut and simply glares icy daggers at me.
"Truthfully, you don’t have to speak. I can see it in your eyes right now. You want me to hurt. You could give a shit about that guy. No, this was a selfish act. Wasn’t it? Am I right? Tell me, Bel. Tell me I’m right. Tell me that you thought if you hurt me the same way I hurt you, your pain would be less. Tell me.”
"No," she growls, still gritting her teeth. "I knew it wouldn’t be less, but it would make me feel better for a little fucking while. And if anyone deserves to feel better, it’s me. Boo-hoo, so what if you had to watch me kiss another guy, and yeah, he groped me a little bit, but nothing you went through tonight will ever amount to what I felt and went through. You're not the one who had to have stitches in your scalp, and I don’t recall anyone that cared about you calling you a whore and throwing dollar bills at you.”
“No amount of apologizing will change what happened. I can’t undo the past, Bel. All I can do is try to do better, and you’re making it increasingly difficult.”