“A whiney, good-for-nothing, self-serving bitch who always held her superiority over others.”
“I said shut up!”
“Why?” Harris growls. “You gonna shoot me? No, you won’t. You’re far too precious to kill someone. And that’s your problem. You control people by doing good for them, acting like you’re some fucking saint or savior, but guess what? You’re not. You’re no better than the rest of us. In fact, you’re worse!”
“Stop!”
“You never let Peter forget that you raised him, did you? Never let it go because you didn’t approve of what he did with his life, and you acted as if you were in charge. That’s why I dumped you too. You couldn’t let go of the little things and always acted like you were better.”
“Like I was better?” Every word from him stokes the tension in my chest and the gun wobbles. “I was a kid when I met you! Ididn’t know any better. I just wanted to be cared for, for once in my life. I wanted someone to take the responsibility so I could have a rest, but you used that against me and you used me. All you cared about was stuffing your tiny dick in my mouth every time I was hungry or needed help with the rent. I was a kid and you took advantage of me and you knownothingabout me and Peter!”
“Don’t I?” He starts to walk toward me. “I know you stopped him from drinking, or tried to. You interfered with his gambling. You even tried to micro-manage his diet. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn he killed himself to get away from you. You wanna know why it was so easy to manipulate you with the heists? Why you were so blind to your own brother being right by your side?”
“Why?” I grind out through clenched teeth.
“Because you’re selfish. You only think of yourself. You wanted to be Peter’s savior so you didn’t think of any other scenario. You wanted to be needed and you loved being a necessity for those heists because it made you feel important. And now you’re here, trying to get your little revenge on me, aren’t you? Trying to make yourself thebetterversion when we’re exactly the same, Zirconia.”
My heart pounds so hard, it’s a wonder I can still hear him. Underneath the anger and the pain and the hatred… I fear he’s right. After all, I went against Bradley’s plan and came in here all by myself because I wanted revenge. I wanted to see the look in Harris’s eyes as I killed him and instead, I’ve put myself in danger and I can’t do it.
My finger’s on the trigger but for some reason, I can’t do it.
“And you know what else?” Harris snarls as he walks until his chest bumps into the barrel.
“What?” I snap, biting back the emotion clawing up my throat.
“You missed the most obvious thing.”
“Which is?”
“The safety’s still on, cunt.” He grabs the barrel of the gun and jerks it upward just as I pull the trigger on reflex, and as the click echoes in my ears, his other fist flies into my face and collides with my jaw.
Pain explodes through my mouth as my teeth clack together and catch the edge of my tongue. Disoriented, his next punch sends me down to the floor, and I land with a cry, but there’s no time to gather myself because then Harris is on me. His bodyweight lands heavily on my waist and his fist collides with my face once more, sending my head snapping to the side with a spray of blood and saliva. Tears burst into my eyes, and I reach for him after abandoning the rifle, scrambling to grab his wrist or his hand or anything to save me from the onslaught of blows.
It’s useless. He’s far stronger and his anger fuels blow after blow. His knuckles cut into my brow bone on the next swing, and I manage to grab his arm and tear my nails down his forearm, resulting in a yell of pain that leads to a backhand across my mouth. Every part of my face throbs hot and pained and I gasp, only to choke because both his fists seal around my throat and all air vanishes from my lungs.
My eyes fly open in alarm and I grip both his wrists, fighting with all my strength to pry his grip from my throat. My legs kick back and forth, I dig my heels into the floor and wrestle to lift my hips and dislodge him, but nothing works.
I can’t breathe!
Tighter and tighter he squeezes until he drags me up by the throat until we’re forehead to forehead. A strained squeak makes it past my lips as Harris laughs in my face.
“Close your eyes, bitch,” he snarls. “Give in. And you might wanna stay there because when you wake up, I’m gonna fuck you with everything I can get my hands on. Y’know, maybe I’ll take you with me. I always wanted something to keep my dick?—”
A deafening crash splits the sky as the ceiling above suddenly explodes with a loud rumbling of thunder, and Harris flinches so hard that he loses his grip on me. I gasp and choke, my throat burning and my heart racing like a frantic rabbit. No sooner has that roar of thunder ended than Harris is no longer on top of me.
I roll to the side, coughing harshly and gasping through the blood trickling out of my mouth. Every part of me aches and throbs, my tongue on fire where my teeth severed flesh, and my throat burns with each ragged breath I drag in.
Where’s Harris? Where is he?
Around me, splintering wood and plaster rain down from above and a repeated dull thudding reaches my ears. Finally daring to look around after catching my breath, the cause of the destruction becomes visible.
Bradley.
He’s on top of Harris and punching his face into a bloody pulp. Each dull thud is fist colliding with face while he pins Harris by the throat. Every collision makes the floor creak, every splatter of blood isn’t enough, and Harris’s weak attempts to fight backare meaningless against a man as strong and well-built as Bradley.
I blink and Valentina leaps down from the hole in the ceiling, further adding to my dazed confusion about where the hell they came from, but it doesn’t matter.
Not really.
