Page 81 of Burning Bridges Duet

What he says surprises me. I didn’t know my father had caught on that something wasn’t right. Now, even more guilt floods me. I need to do something. I need to save Theo.

“Okay, so they’re gone now,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but tears are freely running down my cheeks. “They can’t separate us anymore. Let’s just leave Theo here and go to your house instead.”

“No, we need to pack your stuff and get out of the country. I have everything I need in the car, and he…” Liam spins around to point at Theo, but he uses the hand that’s holding the knife, and he’s too close. It happens so quickly, I’m not even sure what happened, but now Theo is on his knees, clutching his bleeding chest.

There’s so much blood. It pours like a crimson waterfall, pooling around him, seeping into the light green carpet. I get on my hands and knees, wanting to crawl to him, but Liam is crouching in front of Theo, one hand on his shoulder, pointing his knife at me with the other.

“No! You stay there!” he shouts.

“Liam! He’s bleeding too much! We need to call an ambulance.” I yell.

“We can’t do that, angel. We need to get away from here, and if I call an ambulance, they won’t let us.”

Theodore is sinking to the ground, whispering my name.

“Liam!” I scream. “Liam, I will do anything, ANYTHING! Please!”

Liam releases his hold on Theo and stands up, so I crawl over to my little brother and pull him into my lap. I try to apply pressure to the slash, but it’s too deep and blood is gushing out. Theo’s face is as white as a sheet, and his green eyes are wide, filled with pain and terror as they fix on me.

“I’m scared, Livy,” he whispers.

“Shh, it’s okay,” I say as I hold him close to my chest, stroking his head and rocking him gently. I watch as the spark of life that was always so bright in him dims, then I feel his body go limp, and I break down completely.

“Why?” I scream at Liam, who is pacing circles in my room.

“It was his own fault, angel. I didn’t mean to do it!” he says, getting more and more frantic, nearly pulling his hair out. I cry harder, rocking back and forth, holding Theo’s lifeless body. “You’ll get over this, okay? Everyone who was against us is gone, and we can start fresh somewhere else. We’ll get married, have children, and live a happy life where nobody knows us. You’ll love it. You never wanted the fame, now you get what you always wanted,” Liam says. He kneels in front of me and cradles my cheek with the hand not holding the knife, stroking me with his thumb and smearing blood all over my face.

“I would rather die,” I spit out, jerking my head out of his hold. I put Theo’s body down on the floor and get to my knees. Liam chuckles as he catches me glancing at my phone on the nightstand.

“No, you don’t need that,” he says, standing straight and grabbing the phone. I jump at him, desperate to get to it. We struggle for the phone, but Liam is stronger than me. As we fight, I feel a searing pain in my shoulder, and suddenly, blood is pouring down my arm. Liam has managed to stab me with the knife he was still holding. I scream in pain and try to push him away, but he slices open my whole left forearm in the process, causing blood to gush out in a sickening stream.

I collapse to the ground, clutching my wound and gasping for air. The pain is unbearable, and my head gets fuzzy, but I can’t let myself pass out, not yet, not when he can still take me away. Liam, unfazed by my injuries, gets to his feet with the phone in his hand.

“Okay, we need to leave now. I’m going to get you some bandages for your arm, angel,” and leaves the room. Looking at my little brother’s lifeless body, I crawl over and kneel at his head.

“I’m so sorry, Theobear,” I say, tears falling in his hair as I kiss his forehead. I get up and walk over to the window, my wounded arm tightly pressed against my chest. With trembling hands, I push the window open, and a cool breeze rushes into the room. I climb onto the windowsill, using my good arm to steady myself on the frame. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, the pain from my wounds fading into the background.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the night, my voice barely audible over the wind. “I love you.” Then I let go, my body falling silently through the air.

I jolt awake, startled by my own piercing scream filling the silence of my apartment. I’m drowning in grief, hurt, and anger. Gunner went back to his apartment after the movie, but I can’t wait for him to knock on my door and try to calm me down. It feels like my chest has been ripped wide open. I can’t handle these feelings anymore.

I’m not strong enough to feel this every fucking night, reliving that nightmare. I get up and grab my keys and shoes. I don’t care that I’m just wearing black panties and an oversized shirt. My hair is in a messy bun, but it’s after three am, so no one will see me, anyway. I make my way to my car and drive to the studio.

As I thought, the gym is empty, and I make my way to the dance floor. I connect my phone to the speakers and search for music. I can’t dance my feelings out like I usually do. I can’t take it right now. I’m holding on for dear life. I concentrate on the only emotion that is removed enough from my inner turmoil to get me out of this headspace.

I press the repeat button on my phone, then press play, and the opening notes of “The Hills” by The Weeknd fill the empty dance studio. The beat drops, and I squat down, feeling the rhythm in my bones, then slowly rise up again, hands cupping my throat in a sensual chokehold. With each rise and fall, I let my hands glide over my body, my fingertips tracing the curves of my hips and the arch of my back. I step to the side, and with a fluid motion, I bend my knees and swing my head back, releasing my messy bun and letting my long hair cascade down my back like a waterfall. The music envelops me, and I’m lost in the sensuality of the moment, moving my body to the seductive beat.

I see the door to the studio open in the corner of my eye, and Chase walks in. I’m surprised to see him here, but I don’t stop my dance. I need this distraction. I can’t stop now.

He goes to the front row of seats and sits down on the edge of one. His elbows are on his knees, his fists by his mouth. As I continue to dance, I feel his gaze fixed on me, watching my every move. With each sway of my hips and each subtle touch of my body, I can sense the desire building between us. When I reach under my shirt and bunch it up, I can feel his eyes on my exposed skin. I let my hand move to my breast beneath the shirt, and his gaze follows my every movement as I caress myself. He sits upright, his hands gripping the sides of the chair, his knuckles turning white with restraint. I can feel the tension, and I know I need him to let go, so I arch my back and give him a come-hither motion, biting my lip in anticipation of his next move.

He's quick to respond, stepping onto the stage and closing the distance between us. I take a step back, but he steps forward again, his hips moving in time with the music. He moves around me until my back is against his chest and he’s pressing his hips into me. I can feel his hard length against my back, and I can’t help but moan. His hands slide up my thighs, under my shirt, and over my stomach. He tightens his grip, one hand moving to my hipbone, the other pausing just short of my breast. I want him to touch me, to feel his hands on my skin, but he holds back, teasing me. I can feel my body responding to his touch, my hips moving in time with his. I turn in his embrace, facing him once more, and our eyes lock.

I feel the heat radiating off his body, and I can sense his desire for me. His eyes are on mine, and it feels like we’re the only two people in the world. As I slide my hands under his shirt, I’m hit with the realization that he’s pure muscle. I tug on his shirt, and he understands what I want. In one swift motion, he removes it, and I can’t help but feel my heart racing. He’s so sexy, it’s hard to resist him. I shouldn’t try to anymore.

I take in his chiseled abs, touching them with my fingertips, and I bite down on my lower lip. He lets out a chuckle, and I look back up to him. He takes my head into his hands, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. His eyes are so intense, and I know that he’s about to kiss me. His thumb moves over my bottom lip, hesitating for a moment, but I nod in response.

I want this, I need this. I need to feel something other than the hurt and grief that’s been consuming me. As he leans in, I close my eyes, and I can feel his breath on my lips as he savors the moment before our lips finally meet. The kiss is soft at first, but it quickly becomes more passionate. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling his curls fall out of his bun and pulling him closer. He’s such a good kisser. I pause just long enough to remove my shirt too. He takes me in, his gaze fixated on my tits, causing my nipples to harden and goose bumps to form on my skin. His eyes quickly flick over to the scar on my shoulder and arm, but he doesn’t comment, instead turning me and pulling my back into his chest. He wraps his left arm around my shoulders, pinning me to him, while his right hand cups my breast, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling my nipple, which elicits a whimper from me. It’s been so long since I really wanted to have sex, and even then, it never felt like this. His hand slides down and slips into my panties. When he discovers how wet I am, he lets out a soft “Fuck” that sends shivers down my spine. It’s sexy that this is the first thing he’s said to me tonight. He slides his finger inside of me, making me moan and press myself closer to him.