Page 118 of Break my Heart

“Nathan…” My voice comes out sounding as if I’m being strangled from the inside out. “What are you doing?”

“It’s simple. If I can’t have you, no one will.”

His chilling response hangs heavy in the air as it echoes through the arena. Or maybe it just reverberates hollowly in my head. Icy tendrils of fear and panic wrap around my heart, constricting it until movement becomes impossible. Even as he approaches, my brain screams at me to flee. But my feet are slow, the ice beneath me too slick, and my stilted movements are clumsy compared to his steady approach.

“Nathan, please.” My voice cracks as it turns pleading, and my hands shake. I lift them, trying to make him see reason. “Don’t do this.”

He doesn’t respond as his eyes stay locked on me.

Only now do I realize how empty and emotionless they are. He takes another step and raises the gun, pointing it directly at me.

My knees turn to jelly as my body quakes.

As much as I want to glance around and get my bearings, I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m afraid of what he’ll do if I look away for even a second. I’m running out of space and options. A cry escapes from me when my back hits the boards at the edge of the rink, and I realize there’s nowhere left to go.

The cold metal of the barrier presses against my spine, but it’s nothing compared to the icy terror that spreads through my veins.

“Nathan,” I gasp. “Don’t do this.”

“I made you.” His voice remains low.

Eerily calm.

As if what he’s saying makes perfect sense.

“No one will ever push you to be the best the way I did. You need me, Ava.”

My teeth chatter as my heart jackhammers against my chest.

There’s nowhere for me to run. He has me trapped.

The only thing I can focus on is the gun in his steady hand.

My tongue darts out to lick dry lips. “Nathan, please?—”

His finger hovers over the trigger, and time slows.

My chest constricts until breathing becomes impossible.

Until thought becomes impossible.

Until there’s nothing left for me to do but pray.

37

Hayes

My foot is heavy on the gas pedal as I speed through the quiet streets, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles ache.

I fumble with the phone, redialing her number, trying to get a hold of her.

Just like the previous times, it goes straight to voicemail.

As I pull into the parking lot of her building, I look for her apartment on the fourth floor. The place is shrouded in darkness. Only then do I glance around for her silver Jetta and realize it’s not here.

Fuck.

I shouldn’t have pushed her away. I told myself the right thing to do was to let her go so she could follow her dreams. Just like Coach said. But right now, all I can think about is how I screwed everything up. And now I can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong.

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