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None of this makes sense.
My pulse races in my neck, my heart a time bomb ticking wildly toward detonation.
She doesn’t love me.
For a split second, my knees falter.
Then my emotions roar out of me.
I see the Ruger that had been hidden behind the sugar canister sitting on the countertop. I grab it and slap it into her hand.
“Then do it,” I demand.
Because at that moment, I can’t stand the pain.
I’ll welcome death with open fucking arms.
When she doesn’t move, I grab the barrel and press the tip to my forehead.
“Do it!” I growl.
I see the war take place inside her. See the confusion. The pain. The havoc. She came looking for me so she could put a bullet in my skull. Well, here’s your damn chance.
“What are you waiting for?” I growl, pieces of my heart still splintering through my body.
“Stop it,” she growls back.
“You want me dead, then fucking do it.”
She lifts her chin, searching the corners of her mind for her next move. To pull the trigger or not. She doesn’t fight me. Instead, she clicks the magazine release on the Ruger, and the clip falls to the floor between us. She knows the gun won’t fire without the magazine attached.
Frustrated, I throw the inoperable firearm across the room. For a moment, we’re both silent. Yet inside, I’m anarchy. So I grab her by the jaw and force her backward until her back hits the wall. I squeeze her chin, my agony getting the better of me. But she isn’t afraid. Her haunted eyes don’t leave me, they’re tear-filled and sad. But I don’t scare her, not as much as what is taking place inside her does. A lone tear escapes and slides down her cheek.
“Why?” It’s all I can manage. It’s the only word screaming inside my head, a tornado of chaos turning circles in my brain.
Her chin quivers and another tear falls. “Because you killed my brother.”
RORY
Immediately, he lets me go, and I slump against the wall, exhaling sharply.
“Your brother?”
I look at him for the first time since he released me. “Joey Murphy.”
The moment the name registers in Ares’ brain, his expression morphs into complete surprise. But it’s quickly replaced with fury, his eyes the darkest I’ve ever seen.
“Fuck.” He turns away and runs his hand over his head, then swings back to me. “Joey Murphy was your brother?”
When I nod, his brows draw in tight.
Time stretches out before us.
“And you came here looking for revenge?”
“Yes.”
“You were going to kill me?”
