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Is that supposed to make me feel better? I snatch the note from his hands, not caring whether I give him a paper cut. I screw it into a ball and imagine it’s his face I’m crushing, then throw it at his head. It bounces off his forehead, and his eyes widen in outrage as he watches the ball rebound and roll across the floor.
“That’s brilliant. Do you want me to thank you for being such a fucking gentleman?” I scoff. “You’re worse than Seb.”
His eyes light up at the mention of his friend’s name, even in this context.
“If you kill me, you get to see Seb again,” I remind him. “Doesn’t that make you want to do it?” He stares back blankly. “You’re impossible!”
He writes:
Kill me. It’s what you want. Do it.
“It’s no fun if you want me to kill you!” I huff in exasperation. “That’s like admitting you’ve won.”
He shakes his head.I can’t win.
My blood simmers with a building fury, making my head want to explode. I can’t stand it. I can’t…
And I scream.
Bram’s hands fly to his ears while I let loose. I scream until my lungs burn and my eardrums ring. I don’t stop. I let all my emotions flood into the air: the bitter betrayal, the heart-wrenching hurt, the fake relationships, and the fucking lies!
My chest heaves. I stop to gasp for air and realise a figure is standing behind me. The warmth from Bram’s body radiates against mine.
I turn, almost walking into his pecs and disjointing my nose. I’m a curvy girl, but the shadow of his giant silhouette swallows me whole.
“What’re you going to do?” I pant. “Kill me?”
The owl on his throat tattoo stares back in silent judgement.
“Go on!” I slam my fists into his chest. “Do it!”
He doesn’t budge. I punch him repeatedly, taking out all my frustration, like he’s a punching bag. It’s draining my energy, each punch getting weaker than the last. I know I should stop to conserve my strength—maybe this is part of Bram’s grand plan—but I don’t.
Uncontrollable tears roll down my cheeks as I keep pummelling him.
“Fight back!” I scream at the human wall. “Fucking fight back like a man!”
Bram doesn’t react. My words deflect off his muscles like my punches.
“React!” I yell. “Why aren’t—”
Suddenly, his giant hands catch my fists in his grasp. Our eyes meet, sharing in our pain and suffering. I feel something else…
Safety. I’m pulled into a ghost of a memory. A reassuring voice. A car journey. Someone was watching out for me.
His toasty palms cradle my hands firmly. If he’s mad about my outburst, he doesn’t show it. We don’t move, and I catch my breath while he stands motionless like a statue.
Finally, I yank myself out of his hypnotic trance. The side of Bram’s mouth twitches up in a half-grin, and he leans against the wall to watch me.
His eyes sparkle and ask:What’s your next move?
“I’m getting out of here,” I say.
Well, I was going to try…
CHAPTER34
BRAM
