Page 160 of The Catalyst

“Honestly, I thought if you were going to stab me in the back while I was in jail, it would’ve been Ollie that was screwing you.Touché.” He slams his locker, and I charge after him, frustrated with how he absolutely refuses to let me say anything.

What more could I expect from him though?

“I’ve donenothingwrong. I didn’t have a fucking choice!” I grab his arm, and he snaps around, the fury in his eyes directed at me.

“You could’ve trusted me, you conniving cunt!”

I jump back from what he called me, and tears assault my eyes.

“Did you forget that I saw your bruises? I didn’t do this for myself, you asshole. I did this foryou.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Yeah, and I’m the President of the United States. How exactly would marrying one of my friends helpme? Wait, you know what? I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see you, talk to you. I don’t even want to smell your fucking perfume. I don’t give a damn what you do. You could go back to that bridge and jump off it for all I care.”

At that moment, he rips my heart out of my chest before shoving it back through the gaping hole. It aches worse than ever before, but I know the muscle is still there because of how bad it hurts.

He pivots on his heels and charges off as tears fall down my face. “I didn’t have a choice!”

Instead of saying anything in return, he thrusts his hand in the air, holding up his middle finger as he turns down a corridor.

I can hardly breathe as he goes, knowing this is just the beginning of my torment. I have at least thirteen years of it to go.

CHAPTER 63

BETH

Inever went to class. What was the point? My emotions were all over the place. Nigel didn’t listen to anything I said, and school seems redundant now. I doubt Nolan will let me go to college or get a job sometime in the future.

For a while, all I wanted was a way to escape Nigel’s grasp, but now I’ve found myself in another cage, one who’s bars I can’t avoid. It’s suffocating.

I walk out of the school and stroll down the sidewalk, holding my school bag to my shoulder. My only companion is the music pumping through my headphones, the melancholy beat of Interpol’sSay Hello To The Angels. It calms me, but then I become numb as I make my way across town. I stumble to my hotel room and swipe my key before entering the cold, dark room.

It’s dead silent, and it brings back the heartache of everything that happened.

I drop my bag on the floor, slipping out of my shoes, before I push down my skirt and climb directly into the unused bed.

For the first time since I found out about the cluster of cells growing in my womb, I press my hand against the protective skin guarding my child’s temporary home, and my lip trembles. “I guess it’s just going to be us for a while, little bean.” I wrap my body around my pillow and stare at the plain white wall.

Nigel is gone. Martin still hasn’t responded to the dozens of texts I sent him. I doubt Ollie will have much of a presence at all. I’m no longer in his house, right in his face. He has no responsibility to me since Nigel is no longer in jail.

I stare and let my mind go completely blank until the wall texture starts to separate itself from the paint in my mind. It starts to drip and mix with the blue curtains and gray couch.

Nothing becomes everything. Everything dwindles into nothingness.

A boom echoes off the door, and I sit up suddenly, clutching my chest.

“Beth, open the door!”

My heart calms.Oliver.

“Come on. Let me in, dammit!”

I rush from the bed in a hurry to get to him, tripping over the blanket on my way, and I rip open the door, a little worried the force I used might rip it from the hinges. My pain comes back full force as he moves into the room and closes the door before turning to me.

His icy blues blaze into me with an intensity I can’t decipher before he pulls me into his arms. My forearms loop around his neck as a sob wracks through my body.

He doesn’t hold me like I’m fragile. No, he holds me like he wants to be the one to put me together as I shatter in his arms. He’s not afraid to cause a crack in my armor.

My fingers dig into his hair as I hold myself tight to him, and the pressure his arms create increases.

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