Page 77 of The Catalyst

“I will, but first, you should know that you just lost out. You’re meant to be alone. Stay where you belong.” Before I have the chance to rip his fucking throat out, he walks away and the red hue grows in intensity behind my eyes.

I honestly don’t know why Charlie hates me, but he has made it his life’s mission to push my buttons and get under my skin, in that spot between the epidermis and the muscle. He taunts my nerves and, like I said, I can’t kill him.

I really fucking want to though. If he ever breaks the rules, I’ll gladly drive the knife through his eye socket and watch the life leave his other eye.

I pull open my bedroom door and slam it behind me before I let out the roar of frustration that has been growing, stewing, and intensifying with every moment I have held it in.

Everything just exploded in my fucking face.

Then, I hear the sound of a gunshot and it’s like a bucket of glacier cold water was just dumped over my head. It was too close to not come from inside the house.

Beth.

CHAPTER 32

BETH

Buh-bum. Buh-bum. Buh-bum.

The sound of my breathing overlapping my heartbeat echoes in my ear as I run straight for Nigel’s room, knowing exactly what comes next if I stay here any longer.

I knew the second I realized what happened with Martin that Nigel would either hurt me or kill me if he ever found out. Ollie swore he would keep that secret for me, but it was a lie.

Every last bit of the past week and a half was a fucking lie.

He said I was fucking easy.

Oliver Doyle is a vindictive bastard and a major asshole. He just proved that with what he did. I could’ve handled it if he told me that he didn’t feel the same way as I did for him. I could accept that. What I can’t handle is his heartless and careless back-stabbing maneuver.

I fucking trusted him.

I’ll never make that mistake again.

I run straight for the bed and reach under the pillow where Nigel has kept his gun since my first night here. I grab it and shove it inside the back of my jeans just in case I need it before I grab my duffle bag. Racing to the bathroom, I grab all the things that belong to me and drop them in the bag. This is reminiscent of the last time I tried to run away from Nigel, but Judy isn’t here and I’m smarter than I was the last time I ran for it.

Perspiration gathers on the back of my neck as I hurry back into the bedroom, but I stop dead in my tracks when I see Nigel sitting on the bed, his fingers intertwined on his lap.

“Hey,” he mutters, his voice level, but I don’t trust it. I know better than to believe he’s going to ignore what just happened.

“Hi.” The word cracks on my tongue as my fingers shake. It’s okay. If he makes a move, I have the gun.

He can’t hurt me.

“Listen,” he mutters, rolling his lips before the muscles in his hands tense. “I know I just got back and we haven’t talked since I left, but…I think you should leave. I need to process what I just heard and I really don’t want to hurt you. Just go.”

I grip the strap of my bag tight as I stand in the doorway, waiting to see if he’ll do anything, but he just stares back at me, waiting on my response.

“I was already planning to do that,” I admit before I head for the bedside table where my clothes occupy the drawers.

“Why?” he asks as I shove the clothes in my duffle bag

My fingers freeze. Why? Is he really that clueless?

I zip up the bag as I feel a hand on my shoulder. In a flash, I have the gun out and snap around, pointing it directly at Nigel. His hands immediately go up as he slowly backs away.

“Calm down, butterfly. I’m not going to hurt you.”

I laugh at the sentiment. Not going to hurt me? Too fucking late. Hehashurt me. He has held me captive and controlled every aspect of my life for too fucking long. “Your words don’t mean shit anymore, O’Reilly. I believe what I see and what I remember. I remember what happened that night and it fuckinghauntsme. I don’t fucking trust you not to hurt me because you’ve proven that you’re capable of it.”

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