Page 102 of The Cruelest Chaos
I jump from the bed before he can stop me, grabbing the knife off the nightstand. I feel around for the ridged clasp and press it, the blade springing free.
I take a step back from him, hold up the knife in a shaky hand.
He’s staring at me in amusement. “You know how to use that, baby?”
My mouth is so dry, I can barely get the words out. “I fucking hate you.” He has no remorse. He doesn’t care.He doesn’t fucking care.
He arches a brow, but doesn’t move.
I can’t stay still. I keep backing up, knowing I’ll hit the wall soon, but I can’t stop. I want to run out of here. I want to stab him. I want tofucking kill him.
My hands feel hot. My face, too.
“Why don’t you put that down before you hurt yourself, Ella?” His voice is so calm. So unaffected.
This is the same boy who bought me fucking food. Who took me grocery shopping. Who hurt my mother, for me. Who broke a pool cue over his knee to hurt someone who hurt me.
But this is the same boy who hit me. Who denied I could love him. The same boy who locked a girl in the basement.
This is the same boy with an inverted cross on his fucking face and so many skeletons in his closet it’s like a graveyard.
He stands to his feet.
I clench my fingers tighter around the knife.I’m going to hurt him.Tears stream down my face but I don’t care.
I don’t care, even as he takes a step closer.
I don’t care, even as he holds up his hands, trying to placate me.
“Why’re you crying, pretty girl?” He takes another step toward me. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Freedom? From me?”
I step back again and hit the wall.
“You couldn’t handle me, could you, Ella? All my dirty little secrets? You only like what I gave to you, didn’t you? You didn’t mean what you said. You don’t love me, baby. You don’t know me.”
I choke back a sob.
He steps closer. Keeps talking. “You’re not hurting over me. You’re hurting over what you think I’ll cut you off from. Don’t worry, pretty girl. I’ll still buy you—”
I lunge toward him, blindly. In a rage, my hands shaking with anger, my head pounding. I lunge toward him, and I bring the knife with me, trying to sink it into his side.
But he turns away from me, and I’ve still got the blade in my hand. Still see it’s not in his flesh.
But there’s blood.
And he swears under his breath, and we both look at his bare torso at the same time.
Blood.
There’s so much blood, pouring from a deep cut down his narrow waist. Crimson drips across his inked skin, into the fabric of his grey basketball shorts.
For a moment, we both stare at it.
Then he brings his gaze to me and smiles. “That’s it?” he taunts me. He shakes his head once. “It looks bad, Ella, but that won’t kill me. Don’t you want more?”
I step back from him, glancing from his eyes to the blood and back again.
“I fucked her right in front of you. I slid inside of her right in front of you and you didn’t do a fucking thing about it, Ella. Don’t you wantmore?”
