Page 56 of Twisted Tyrant


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I pick up the pace, ignoring her pleading voice. I need to get the fuck away from here immediately, if not sooner.

High heels click along the pavement behind me. I refuse to look back.

“Stop!”

But I can’t. My feet dig into the ground with each heavy step I take toward my future because it’s all I have left, as dismal as it may be without Natasha in it.

Her slim fingers wrap around my arm, tugging me back.

“Just let me go,” I mutter.

“I can’t,” she whispers.

“You have to.”

I stare straight ahead, unable to look at her because I know this is one of the last times I’ll ever see her again. After tonight, our time together will be buried in the past, along with all of the other toxic memories that would poison me to death if they ever escaped.

“Can you at least look at me?”

With gritted teeth, I slowly turn my head, swallowing past the knot of fury in my chest when I think of my brother undressing her tonight, about how he probably undressed her last night.

Fuck, I wish I’d have just knocked him out when I had the chance. Screw the pictures and appearances.

“I, ah…” Natasha’s voice trails off when she looks up at me, like she just lost her train of thought. After a second, she recovers. “I didn’t think you wore anything but wife beaters and ratty jeans.” Her lips quiver, lifting into a small smile. But the tears pooling in her bright eyes give her away.

Christ, she is killing me right now.

And she knows this is the end of the line for us, but instead of feeding into the darkness looming over us, she chooses a different path.

“Yeah, well, it took me a long time to break them in, so…” I allow my lips to curl slightly upward because she needs that, and hell, I do, too. A sharp pain assaults my heart when a single tear spills from her eye.

Then she drops her hand from my arm and steps away from me, swiping at the stray tear.

Not because people are watching.

Not because Dima will probably round that corner in a hot second and see us together.

But because she knows as well as I do that it’s time to let go.

No matter how much we may not want to.

I slide a hand down the side of her face, her skin so smooth under the rough pads of my fingertips. She presses her hand against it, letting her eyes float closed for a stolen moment, probably the last we’ll have together.

“Do what you need to do, Natasha.”

Dima stomps down the walkway, his back stiff. I bite back a smile when I see his shirt is again smoothed and tucked, his hair slicked back as it was before.

He stops right next to Natasha and glares at me. I don’t miss the curious stares exchanged by his men. Good. Let them wonder what happened. Let them question their boss and his ability to command.

My gaze stays on Natasha for a few tormenting seconds before I break away and head for my car. It isn’t until I’m behind the wheel with the engine turned on that I allow myself to peek into the rearview mirror. The look on Dima’s face alone makes my pit stop completely worth it, like I just blasted him with another virtual sucker punch.

Not that it matters.

I grip the leather steering wheel tight, my knuckles white. I press my foot on the gas, the tires kicking up gravel in their wake as I speed down the road leaving the estate.

I’m done losing to Dima.

Screw the family hierarchy.

I have a plan to change things, consequences be damned.

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