Page 220 of Barinov

“Here we go,” Bella says, rolling her eyes.

“Duty?” Monroe asks, glancing up from his notepad.

My brows raise. “Saving kids. Project Dylan. My whole life’s mission.”

Monroe shakes his head. “Neither of you are even remotely close to mission ready yet.”

“Excuse me?” I mutter.

“Like I would ever give Nathaniel the okay to hand you a weapon and send you into a room full of children while you can’t even talk about a simple nightmare. Absolutely not.”

God I want to punch this guy. I actually liked him better when he was making us breathe.

“It’s not a simple—” I cut myself off, my fists clenched at my sides.

“Then what is it, Zeke?”

Silence settles over the room. The only sound is the ticking of that stupid clock above his desk and my racing heart. Bella shifts her weight on the couch, but doesn’t say a word.

“What is it?”

My jaw locks. “It’s…” I swallow hard. “Nothing.”

Monroe’s eyes narrow on me. “You and I both know that’s not true.”

“Don’t,” I warn, my nostrils flaring with each deep inhale.

“Just help me understand,” the fucker keeps prodding.

“I said don’t.”

His voice never changes. “What happened there?”

The room suddenly feels too small. Too damn hot and too fucking quiet.

“I don’t…” My chest tightens. I look at Bella, pleading the best I can with my eyes. “I don’t want to do this.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers through sudden tears. “I’m right here.”

I stare down at the floor. The hardwood blurs beneath my boots.

“He broke me.” The words barely make it out before the dam breaks loose. “He,” I choke, dragging a shaking hand down my face. “He, uh—fuck!”

Bella inhales sharply across the room. I can’t look at her. Not right now.

“He didn’t just…” I shake my head, the room spinning. “He didn’t just hurt me. He got inside my fucking head. He’d hurt me.” I wipe a stray tear from my cheek. “And then he’d tell me he loved me.”

Monroe scribbles away on his notepad.

“He’d apologize and in the same breath say no one would ever want me but him.” I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. “He kept saying I was safe with him as long as I did what he wanted.”

A bitter laugh escapes me.

“Safe,” I bite out. “Like anything with him was ever safe.”

My voice splinters. “He’d make me hate myself. Question everything. My body. My mind.” I finally glance up at my sister. “Question my love for you.”

I can’t breathe. I try to stop myself but the word vomit keeps coming. “He made me fall for him. For the lies. For the hope.”