Page 61 of Chokehold
I turn away from them and storm out the room, not taking a breath until I reach the top of the steps. My hands fist, and I wish I could punch Blaise’s dad hard enough he becomes unrecognizable.
Blaise is following me. I can feel and hear his footsteps behind me. “Cole.”
“Fuck off.”
He grabs my shoulder, but I shrug him off and try to get to my room. My head is all over the place, a devil on my shoulder whispering shit that isn’t true, and I think I might be sick.
I’m dizzy, and my chest feels tight.
“It might not have been your dad. You don’t need to be scared.”
I spin around, and he crashes into me, only staying on his feet when I snatch his throat and shove him into the wall beside my door. “What part of fuck off do you not understand? What are you doing?”
“He’s not going to get you.”
Grinding my teeth, my eyes burn as much as the pain in my chest. “You don’t know that. And even if he does, it has nothing to do with you.” I let go of him and stand back. “Stay in your lane, Blaise. You don’t fucking belong in mine. Stop touching me. Stop coming near me. If you do it again, I’ll choke you.”
I slam the bedroom door behind me, leaving him in the hallway, my vision blurring even more. My eyes zero in on my bed, and the inner child in me screams to hide.
Sliding under the bed, I try to control my breathing as I close my eyes. He’s not here; my dad isn’t coming for me.
He won’t.
I feel a tingling sensation at my toes and fingertips, and I screw my eyes shut tighter and try to stop hyperventilating at the thought of him barging into my room and dragging me from under my bed.
He’ll hurt me.
He’ll hurt Mom.
I need to stay quiet.
If I stay silent, and not move, or cry, he won’t know I’m here. My leg aches, and I hold my side. Memories are ruining me.
My phone buzzes, pulling me from my panic momentarily when I realize it’s my burner phone. I pull it out and see the screen.
Blaise: I’m home now.
My eyes glaze over with rage. How fucking dare he fuck around with me on the trip, then hop back into this shit?
He can’t fuck around with me, with my head, then expect to go home and move on to this masked man who degrades him, makes him run and submit.
My chest tightens, but in a different way. My anger is there, but it’s forming into spiteful jealousy, and I stop hyperventilating like I’m about to pass out.
I crush my teeth together as I type back a location and time, knowing fine fucking well I won’t be meeting him there.
Why do I even bother when all he does is turn me away? More importantly, why do I even care? Why do I want to storm back to his room and hurt him like he hurts me? So many fucking questions without answers.
I drive my fist into the wall, but the pain barely touches the rising anger inside me. Is that what this is? Anger? I don’t fucking know.
“Are you okay, Blaise?” Rachel asks as I thunder down the stairs.
I storm past, biting back the clogging sensation rising inside me. My chest feels too small to contain whatever shit this is. Is it supposed to hurt like this? To be this hard to breathe? I emerge into the afternoon air and pause outside the front door, trying to inhale a ragged breath, but it catches in my throat. The backs of my eyes burn. Before I know what the hell is going on, my chin wobbles, so I crouch down and fist my short hair until my scalp prickles. The urge is there to scream, but I squeeze my eyes shut instead. Is life always like this? Polar opposites? First, I felt nothing, and now this…tumultuous roar in my head? The pain becomes almost unbearable, and I punch my skull.
What do I want?
Did I want Cole to let me in? To trust me and stop looking at me like he hates me? Or do I want to stop feeling and return to the emotionless, bored shell I was before he came into the picture?
What’s wrong with me? Why the fuck do I let him affect me like this? No one should have this control over me, let alone my own stepbrother.
