Page 30 of Poison Vows

It’s only fair. After all, she’s had a hold over my heart, my soul, my life, and everything in between since forever. Why can’t I have a small grip on her too?

“You're right,” I continue, tracing her bottom lip with my still bloody finger. “I’m undeserving of any mercy in this life, but so are you!”

Knowing that I shouldn’t touch her at all, I slowly trace her jaw with my still bleeding finger… so slow as if I want to savor this moment, this feeling… savorher.

She gasps, her lips parting open in a way that almost disarms me.

“If I’m an unrepentant asshole then you are a sinner and, guess what, Angel?” I whisper. “That makes us the same! Do you really think a child will survive that?”

“It’s my child!” she snaps. “You’re just a glorified sperm donor. Just like I’m just a puppet, a sex toy you’re using in your schemes of power against your family!”

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

Heart-fucking-beat.

I count to hundred in my head, trying to breathe and calm down, but she’s making that impossible.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I grit out, my chest aching like hell.

“Why is that, Emmett?” she demands. “Am I too stupid to understand? Am I too daft? Too pathetic because I’ve pined for you?”

“Angel—”

“Let’s make it clear now and forever. I hate you, Emmett Easton! Whatever feelings I had for you are now long dead, and will never resurrect, so help me God!”

A freight train could come out of nowhere and crash me, but that wouldn’t hurt as much as her words.

"What makes you think you're better than me?" I whisper hoarsely because of the agony in my chest, the squeezing of my lungs, and the twisting of my veins all due to the pressure this girl exerts on me. “You’ve been doing all sorts of crap behind my back and yet you’re still breathing. I’ve taken out people for far less than your level of treachery!”

She holds my gaze without flinching.

“This is the real you, isn’t it?” she says coldly, not scared or backing away at all. “All these years, you've pretended to be so refined, indifferent, and unbothered by the world like an iceberg submerged in deep waters. But, of course, that was all just a pathetic facade. Finally, you’re unmasking your sinister, unhinged true self.”

Unable to help myself, I smirk.

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t see the real me all along, Angel,” I warn. “Everyone else can be naïve to my nature, but not you.” I snake an arm around her waist and pull her flush against me. “It’s always been you who’s seen me. The real me. So quit acting blasé, it’s an ugly color on you!”

Angel's fragile, small, warm hands smack against my chest, demanding that I let go. I ignore her.

I notice her finger is still bleeding, so I reach for her hand and suck it in my mouth. She hisses, her pupils dilating again.

I reach into my pocket for the Band-Aid I prepared earlier and apply it on her finger, all the while we both breathe hard and fast.

Angel is glaring at me with so much resentment, it's almost stifling.

Her soft but rigid body against mine is also triggering memories from last night and reigniting a hunger for her that I’ve fought tooth and nail against for years, but no matter how many ice baths I've taken, miles I've run, the hours I've spent trying to numb myself in the boxing ring, I can’t seem to let go or be immune to this hunger.

It's even worse in this moment.

“Are you not willing to do what I asked?” I demand. “Is that why you’re retaliating like this?”

She scoffs, pushing me away. I let her go simply because if I keep her close, it’ll be over for both of us.

“Retaliate? Please,” she scoffs, and then turns on her heel to leave. “This isn’t about you.”

“Yes, this isn’t about me, this is about you!” I growl. “This is about you being a hypocrite, a liar, and a malicious, self-deceptive wallflower!”

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