AllFreeNovel
Share Us
If there’s anyone who can help me keep Knox away, it’s Daniel. Even if it means hurting him in the process.
However, no amount of emotional pain compares to what would happen to him if he insists on staying with me.
Surprisingly, the words don’t feel heavy when I confess to Daniel, “Because my father is the leader of the New York Russian mafia and Knox is under threat because of that.”
33
KNOX
The need for violence hasn’t left my system.
If anything, it’s growing and intensifying, despite being in the process of murdering the punching bag in my building’s gym.
I keep pummeling on and on, imagining Daniel’s face as its substitute. Or any other man’s face who ever put their hands on her.
Any.
All.
This isn’t normal, is it? Being on the verge of destruction and feeling like I’ll burst any second. It isn’t normal to have urges I thought I got rid of long ago.
Like standing at the top of something high, spreading my arms, and plummeting down, just so I can kill the shadows swirling around me from every side.
Or maybe cutting open my veins so they’ll fucking bleed out so I can stop them from whispering, murmuring, and hissing in my ears.
I haven’t had these thoughts for…years. Or maybe I’ve done a fantastic job pretending they weren’t there anymore.
That I was fine.
Perfect.
Completely over my past
Dad is right, after all. It’s impossible to pretend all is well when it isn’t.
One incident, one moment in time is able to make me backpedal into the worse version of myself.
The version that resisted the urge to jump or cut open my veins because I couldn’t leave Teal. Because I was responsible for my sister and abandoning her was a betrayal of the vow I made to protect her.
But she doesn’t need my protection now. Not only does she have her husband and son, but I can finally admit that she’s in a better place than I am.
I always thought I was her rock and anchor, that I had to be strong for her, but I didn’t stop to think about how much that fake strength would eat away at the edges and seep inside.
That’s how it feels right now—like I’m dissolving from the outside in.
The scene of Anastasia clinging to Daniel keeps replaying at the back of my mind in a loop, in spite of my attempts to stop it. It’s whirling, repeating, and fucking up my breathing.
The way her lips parted when she looked at him and knelt between his legs. Lips that were only mine to kiss. Lips that only smiled at me.
Not anymore, though.
We’re over.
That’s what she said and when I didn’t agree, she proceeded to fucking prove it.
I hit the bag harder until my knuckles and muscles scream with pain and exertion. Until my vision is hazy with sweat and a red mist.
“Are you done murdering the punching bag or should I come back in a bit?”
