Page 118 of The Revenge You Seek
"Bullshit. Fucking bullshit. You're such a fucking liar, Hunter. Has anything that's ever come out of your mouth been the truth?"
"I haven’t lied to you, Kane." But as she says the words, something flashes in her eyes.
"Lies," I spit. "Fucking lies."
"What did I ever do to you, Letty? I fucking wanted you. Just fucking you and you chose him," I hiss, my fingers tightening on her throat, but at no point does she try to stop me.
Because she knows she's guilty, a little voice says in the back of my head, but even still I pray that I'm wrong. That she's not the deceitful liar she's turning out to be.
"You chose him and then you fucking killed him."
My hands tremble and there's no way she misses the reaction.
Releasing her before I squeeze even fucking harder and do something that I'll forever regret, I take a massive step back.
Lifting my hands to my hair, I sweep it back from my brow and pull at the lengths until it hurts.
"I didn't kill Riley, Kane, and you fucking know it. What he did… it was an accident."
"You broke his heart. It's your fault," I seethe, turning back to her and pinning her to the spot with my death stare.
"It's not my fault he got in his car drunk, Kane. He was his own person with his own mind."
"You should have stopped him."
"How?" She throws her arms up in despair. "He wasn't drunk when he left me. How the hell was I supposed to know what was going to happen. I'm not fucking psychic."
My chest heaves as I stare at her. I know she's right. I've always known that, but it's easier to pin his death on her and hate her for it than to accept the truth.
"He fucking loved you," I bellow.
Her shoulders slump in acceptance.
"He always loved you, why do you think I let him have you?"
"You let him? How fucking big of you."
A growl rips up my throat. "It should have been me," I bellow.
"But you fucked up and I chose him. What the fuck are you going to do about it now? You going to hurt me, punish me. Get your sweet fucking revenge so you can sleep at night. Well, newsflash, asshole." She lifts her shorts and exposes her upper thighs to me. "You're too fucking late. You've already done all of that. So what's next?"
Tension crackles between us as I stand immobile, staring at the bruises I caused.
For the briefest moment, I feel bad for hurting her, for marking her. But then I remember why I'm really here and I forget all about being a decent human being.
"Tell me the fucking truth, Princess?" I calm my voice and drop my tone. "Why did you run this morning? And think very carefully about your answer."
She stares at me, her eyes narrowed trying to read me.
"You already know," she states, calmer than I want her to.
I want her to fight, to scream, to tell me that I'm wrong. But she's not. Because she's fucking guilty.
A roar rips from my throat before my fist collides with the wall beside her head.
She lets out a squeal of shock but she doesn't move as I stand, staring down at her, waiting to hear the words from her lips.
"Why? Why the fuck would you do that?" I ask quietly, searching her eyes for the truth.
