Page 53 of Beyond Hate

Pictures of us together.

“Who sent—” I didn’t get the chance to finish the question. His fingers on my throat tightened and a low, choking sound replaced the syllables. It was almost comically villainous, the fury burning through his eyes. The half-crazed expression.

I’d always known Hudson was unhinged, but this was different.

He’d always acted like I was a burden, something he could use and abuse and throw away whenever he felt like it. I’d had no idea that the thought of me being with someone else would send him over the edge on some drug-fueled bender that led to…

This.

I’d never thought I would die chained to a bed when I’d just started to realize that maybe life didn’t have to be complete misery.

Maybe there were pieces of me out there that could make me whole.

Maybe Otto…

Fuck, the thought of Otto coming back and finding me dead was enough to make me try to surge up, enough to make me try to fight… but he hadn’t been playing when he’d chained me to the bed.

I couldn’t jerk my arms free.

And I couldn’t stop Hudson when he crawled on top of me, his broad body straddling mine, hips slung on either side of me so he could wrap both hands around my throat.

“I don’t know if I want to kill you before or after, London. I thought about keeping you… but you’ll just keep doing shit like this, won’t you?”

The weight of him on top of me made my entire body ache. It wasn’t just pain, though. I knew whataftermeant. I could see it in his eyes.

I could see it on his face.

Fuck, I hoped he killed mebefore. And even if he didn’t…

I took a deep breath and turned my eyes up to him—it was almost satisfying to watch the shock blossom across his features at the defiant expression on my face. I’d spent so much of my time making myself small, so much of my time making myself fit into whatever space I was allowed.

Otto had flayed me wide open and left me incapable of shrinking down again. I wasn’t sure if I could break for anyone but him now. And no matter what happened, Iwasn’tgoing to break for the man above me.

“Fuck you, Hudson,” I hissed. I wasn’t doing myself any favors, but it didn’t matter.

Something in my chest felt tight, because I wasn’t going to go down begging.

If Otto found me like this, at least I’d have died proud.

At least I—

Hudson lifted his fist, and it took me a second to realize that something was wrong. A blossom of crimson spilled across the front of his white shirt, and my mind didn’t understand what was happening until I heard a voice.

“He’smine.” It was just two words, but Otto’s normally smooth, almost emotionless tone was full of so much heat and anger that I was surprised I didn’t melt on the bed. Some partof me was aware that thereliefI felt when I saw the flash of a blade flick around and slice across Hudson’s throat, leaving me washed in a spray of hot liquid was…

Fucked up.

It was easy to ignore that part when I knew what the alternative was… but…

“O-Otto.” I got his name out on a gasp, and then swallowed the sound when the knife came down again… and again… and again.

Stab after stab—gratuitous violence that didn’t stop when I let out a soft,“He’s already dead.”

It didn’t stop until Hudson’s chest was a ruined mess and I was covered in blood from my chin all the way down.

It didn’t stop until Otto threw the body to the side and I was faced with the wild, almost unhinged expression on his features.

I saw it there while I was looking up at him—the danger he’d been warning me about, the hate I’d felt burning along my skin every time he’d threatened me. There was a second where the knife in his hand trembled, where I thought he was going to keep moving…

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