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“Why did you do it? Why me?” I asked, looking up at his face that looked unfazed by my action.
“I will tell you, I promise. Now, put the glass down.”
“You don’t get to decide that!” I said, placing the tip of the glass on his hard chest. “Tell me. I have nothing to lose, Tristan, so I don’t give two shits about pushing this glass into your rotten heart,” I demanded.
“I can’t,” he said.
“You can’t?” I laughed hysterically.
This whole thing was driving me crazy. They all looked wary as they watched me, probably wondering if they should call for an ambulance to ship me to a psychiatric hospital.
I put the glass down, knowing I didn’t have it in me to take someone else’s life. All I could think about was making him feel the same pain I was feeling right now, but as much as it hurt, I couldn’t do it. His friend signaled for Morris to take the piece of glass away.
“You had no right to do that. You don’t get to ruin someone’s life like that. You have no right to say whatever you want about my life!” I poked his chest with each sentence; it was so hard that I was scared it would fracture my finger.
“Better sleep with two eyes open because I will kill you in your sleep,” I threatened.
He looked down at me with those alluring blue eyes I wished God had given to someone worth it.
“Okay.” His voice reverberated with reverence.
Is this dude for real?
“Do you have any idea the damage you caused? You just stole everything from me, and you have the guts to act like you had the right to do that.”
He stared at me like I was boring him with my words. Shaking his head, he looked back at his friend, lost in amusement.
“I’m talking to you, asshole!” I shoved his chest, but he didn’t move.
I saw his hand clench, but his blank expression left me clueless. I ignored the sharp, sizzling pain pricking at my feet.
“Morris, show Miss Simpson to her room,” Tristan said with a sigh.
“If you take another step next to me, I will snap your neck,” I warned. Morris stopped. “I’m not staying here, but I’m definitely not leaving without you telling my family the truth.”
I knew it wouldn’t change anything, but I wanted them to know I was a better person now. I rushed to get my phone. There was a slight pain beneath my foot.
“You’re bleeding.” I heard a deep voice from behind. I was damn sure it didn’t belong to Tristan or Morris.
I looked back at his friend, and he pointed at my bloody footprint. I rolled my eyes, returning to my search. I picked up my phone and returned to Tristan, whose eyes were on the destroyed paintings and awards.
I could tell he was angry, but he wasn’t showing much of it. His lips twisted in a scowl as he exhaled.
“Here is my dad’s number.” I extended my phone to him, but he was still staring at the mess I’d made.
“How did you get all the paintings and awards?”
I moved the phone closer to his face in response. He grabbed it, and just when a smile was about to form on my face, he threw the phone across the room.
“Bro, what the fuck?” his friend said, walking to where Tristan had tossed the phone. He picked the pieces up with a slight frown stretching across his face. “You broke her phone, asshole,” he said to Tristan, who didn’t seem to care.
“Okay, good thing I have their number up here.” I pointed to my head.
I saw his phone peeking out of his front pocket. He grabbed my hand when I reached for it.
“You can break whatever you want, however you want. I need time, and I already promised to tell you,” he said calmly.
I pulled my hand away and stepped back, glaring at him. He stared back at me with a neutral expression. Tucking both hands in his pockets, he gestured for Morris to take me to my room.
