Page 117 of Cruel Lies

A very,very angryand slightly broken psychopath.

With a knife engraved with the name of my first love. Myonlylove.

I was suddenly hit with a wave ofinspiration.

I spun the knife in my hand as I dragged it out of Bonnie’s leg, grinning as she screamed anew, her agony only amplified by the way I twisted the knife in her muscle like she’d twisted it in my damn back. We worked together for the same Guild, dammit. I shouldn’t have to worry about double-crossers. Especially not someone I went out of my way to fuckingavoid.

The blade tip touched the edge of my facial scars, and I grinned wider, feeling it dig into the scar tissue, a drop of blood welling up beneath it as it punctured me. "Do you wanna know how I got thesescars,Bonnie?" She whimpered up at me, mumbling shit about how I wassick,calling me afreakand amonsterand anabomination."Well, Bonnie, I’m gonna tell you."

I dragged the blade along the length of my scar, reopening a wound that ran as deep as the self-hatred I carried with me every damn day of my pitiful existence, fresh blood dribbling down my cheeks, over my jaw, hitting Bonnie’s legs as I leaned over her.

"You see, there was this girl. And she was a looker, man. She was amazing."

She was too good for me. She was perfect. She was everything I wanted, and everything I didn’t deserve.

Her name was Harper Daniels.

And she wasmine.

"She was everything a woman like you wishes she could be. And I loved her."

Oh, how I fucking loved her.

"But you see, Bonnie, she wasn’t mine to have. So I had to make do with dating women who would never measure up to her."

I licked my own blood from the black blade, grinning like some sort of specter of death as I felt my eyes widen further. The fear wafting off Bonnie was so palpable, it fed me like some sort of fuel. It sparked the flame inside me and fanned the blaze until it was big enough to burn everything in its path.

Her eyes widened, and she began to shake as I pulled Clyde’s gun off the nearby table and spun it around like some sort of sharpshooter, dangling from one fingertip.

"What are you gonna do with that?—"

"I WASN’T DONE TALKING, BONNIE!"

The butt of the gun came down on her temple, ringing her fucking bell enough to have her seeing double. And it shut her up, too, so.

Yay. Bonus Damage.

"Now, where was I?"

Rowan cleared his throat but wisely didn’t move to stop me. "She wasn’t yours to keep, I think," he supplied helpfully, and I pointed the tip of the blade at him, smiling genuinely that time, shooting the fucker a wink.

Who ever said Rowan wasn’t useful in a torture situation?

Motherfuckers gotta have your back.

"Ah, right. Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie. Women want to feel special in a relationship. They don’t wanna be a stand-in. They don’t wanna be a second choice. So most of my women didn’t last long. They got the vibes and bounced, or I got tired of them and dumped them."

But then along came that bitch.

"There was one girl who didn’t get the hint, though. She stayed far longer than she was welcome. And then, one night, when she wasn’t supposed to be there, I had a dream. And I cried out for the girl I’d never have."

I scratched my temple with the tip of the gun barrel, hating the emotions that ran through me at the memory ofher.

Nothing she’d done was right. Her touches. Her words. Her accent. Her attitude. Her clothes. It was all WRONG, WRONG, WRONG.

"She took offense to that. And then I made it worse, when she asked me who that girl was to me, and I refused to answer."

She didn’t DESERVE to know. It WASN'T HER BUSINESS.

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