Page 75 of Degrading Her

Me.

“I’ve known you for a long time,” he said. “I’ve wanted to prove you wrong since the first time we spoke.”

He pulled me up by the hand, taking me over to the metal table. Two guns laid on the smooth surface, identical in shape and size.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Choose a gun,” he ordered.

“I don’t want to.”

He squared his shoulders. “It’s based on chance. It’s either loaded or it’s empty.”

I couldn’t handle this. What was I going to do with a gun?

He read my mind, answering the question: “Shoot yourself, or me.”

I closed my eyes, my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t want to shoot him. I didn’t want to shoot anyone. I couldn’t live with any more of that guilt. My little sister was enough.

“Do you still love me?” I asked.

He studied me, the emotion leaving his eyes like clouds covering a hazy sky.

“Love won’t save you from a bullet.”

My heart stilled. It was another game of chance, something I had to put my faith into and give up control over the outcome.

But how could I let go like this? Our lives were at stake. This wasn’t pure chance.Icould prevent the outcome.Icould refuse.

“I’m not going to do this,” I said.

“Then I will force you, Fiona,” he said. “This is my legacy. I’m not going to give it up.”

I knew, then, that he had come too far for this. He would never change. His dress shoes clicked on the cement.

“Sawyer,” I whispered. A tear slipped down my cheek.

He grabbed one of the guns, shooting it at the ceiling, chunks of wood tumbling to the floor. He pressed the gun into my hand. My knees were weak.

“Pull the trigger, Fiona,” he yelled. He raised the gun in my hand, forcing me to pull the hammer back. Then he aimed it at his chest. “Do it, and I’llgiveyou the library. You’ll own it.”

The library.

Everything I thought I wanted was right before me.

All I had to do was to pull the trigger.

Shoot him.

Trust that chance was on my side, and that there were no more bullets.

But I couldn’t live with myself like that.

“I can’t kill you, Sawyer,” I whispered. “I won’t.”

“You said you would die for your own library,” he murmured. “I’m giving you that chance. Show me you want the library more than you cherish your own life.”

I put the gun to my own temple, the metal warming against my skin. My body quivered. Sawyer pressed himself against me, steadying me.

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