Page 125 of Heart Sick Hate

Rhett stands up, still laughing as he makes his way back over to the table. Even if I shouldn’t, I relax my head against the wall and close my eyes, trying to catch my breath. One touch and I feel dirty. Invaded. I’d rather he just kill me.

“You are my fiancée, and there’s no backing out of that.”

“Watch me.” I face him again.

There’s no use playing nice at this point. Rhett’s shown me his true colors. He’s not letting me get out of this. At least if I piss him off enough to kill me, I don’t have to fear the worse things he could do.

“Your fight used to be one of your more interesting qualities.” He hums. “Now I’m bored. And while this worked out at first, you’ve become more trouble than your worth. Just like all women.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I’m not sure what ignites my hate for him more, the nerve or his comment.

“Women are a distraction—at least for those too weak to use them for only what you need.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Hate me all you want. Doesn’t really matter now, does it?” Rhett reaches for something on the table, before turning to face me once more.

This time, my vision is clearer as he holds it up and the light glistens off the needle in his hand.

“What’s that?” Doesn’t matter how many tattoos I’ve given or received, syringes make my skin itch.

Watching too many go into my mom’s bruised, frail arms makes it impossible to see anything else.

“I think you know what it is, Echo. After all, your druggie, whore mother had you around them all the time, didn’t she?”

“Don’t say that.”

He’s trying to kick me where it hurts. Remind me of the parts of my past that erase some of my worth. Digging into wounds when he knows nothing about them. Like I’m insignificant and a piece of trash.

I’ve been looked at that way too many times in my life. And while Crew has never judged me, his brother is like the rest of them.

“It’s the truth.” Rhett starts walking over to me, and I try to back up. But there’s no going anywhere. “You can’t run, baby. There’s nowhere to go. This is where we end.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What your mother did.” He squats down in front of me with the needle sitting like a threat between us. “I should be thanking you for giving me such an easy out. I’ll be sure to mention my appreciation at your memorial.”

My fingernails dig into the concrete as he smirks darkly at me.

“You’re going to kill me?”

“Of course not. But I can’t help it if my fiancée is a drugged-up piece of trash like her mother. That shecouldn’t handle the pressure, so she turned to something to make her feel better. That she got in so deep her dealer came after her and shot me for her mistakes. I can’t help that her addiction is going to take her from me.” He laughs. “No, I won’tkillyou. I’ll set up a foundation for you. Mourn you. Make you an example of what happens when you lose your way. And they’ll love me for it.”

“You can’t.”

Sure, I smoke pot and drink. I enjoy a good time. But I’ve never touched anything harder. I wouldn’t dare after seeing what it did to my mother. I’ve avoided what Rhett holds up between us my entire life, and my skin itches at the sight of it.

“I can, baby. And I will.” His eyes pinch with forced sympathy, and I’m not sure how I’m only now realizing he’s a psychopath. “Nothing draws devotion like a dead fiancée. With you out of the way, I can ascend with a woman who understands what it means to be my wife. Someone who isn’t distracted with her own dreams and isn’t interested in opening her legs for my siblings.”

“But Angelina—”

“Will say what I ask of her.” Rhett cuts me off. “Or I’ll find a way to get rid of her too.”

He grins, and I nearly vomit.

I’ve only seen pure evil a few times in my life and now is one of them. I can’t help but wonder if Crew knows this about his brother.

Crew.

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