Theo scowls at the tears running down my cheeks then his face softens. “Her grandma died.” After tucking the knife into the back of his trousers, he cradles my face and wipes away my tears with his thumbs.
“Fu—” He cuts off my “fuck you” by kissing me. I can sense the woman’s discomfort with our display of affection that is not at all fitting for grieving the death of a loved one. I try to push him away, but he grabs my wrists and backs me against the wall, shoving his tongue further down my throat.
The lift stops on the third floor.
“Uh… sorry about your grandma.” She hurries off and the doors close.
He pulls away, both of us breathless.
Smack!
My hand connects with his face. He narrows his eyes and reaches for the knife but pulls his hand back without it as the doors open to the fourth floor. I tumble into the lifeless hallway with his hand clutched to the back of my neck—hard—guiding me toward his flat as my feet stumble to keep up. After unlocking the door, he shoves me inside, sending me stumbling to the ground. The door slams shut, and he locks it as I scramble to my feet.
This man hascrushedmy heart. I’m not even sure it’s still beating. Reaching around, I press my fingers to the area on my back where he held the knife to me. It stings. Holding my hand out, I focus on the blood. It’s not a deep cut, but it’s still bleeding.
My gaze lifts to his, but he’s staring at the blood on my fingers.
I wait.
I watch.
Show me the slightest twitch of regret, Theo.
“You cut me.”
Cold, hard eyes snap to mine. “You followed me. You broke into my apartment and stole my things.”
“I’m your song.” I tip my chin up and bite back my emotion.
He shakes his head. “You’re nothing.”
I look down, hiding from the hate in his eyes while focusing on the blood as I rub my fingers together. “You’re worse than the cancer.” I don’t care about the cut, even if I were bleeding to death.Weare dying and that is… indescribable.
When I look up again, the muscles in his jaw flex as he returns his gaze to the blood on my fingers.
“I hope your dirty knife gives me some flesh-eating infection so you can watch me slowly die. My rotten, putrid stench filling the air around you. When that happens, just remember… her name is Karma and she’s one unforgiving bitch.” If we’re dying, it’s going to be with guns blazing. I will not censor a single emotion.
He looks at me, not a crack to the iciness in his stare. “Sit.” He nods to the folding chair.
“Go to Hell.”
He barrels toward me. Six months ago I would have retreated until my bum landed in the chair. Not now. I refuse to fear this man anymore, even if he takes my last heartbeat.
“Sit. Down.” His black boots hit the toes of my neon yellow trainers.
“Go. To. Hell.” I squint at him.
Grabbing my shoulders, he shoves me back until my arse does in fact hit the chair. The back of it scrapes against my wound. I try not to grimace, but I can’t completely avoid it.
“You shouldn’t have come.” He grabs several rags from the kitchen and rips them into strips.
I bite back my words. He’s not worth them.
He ties my arms behind my back, and then he binds my legs to the chair before disappearing to the bathroom. A few seconds later, he returns with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, some tape, and gauze.
“Leave it,” I say with absolutely no emotion to my voice.
Theo squats down behind me and eases the back of my shirt up.
