“Fuck you.” I spit at her harshly. She laughs callously in response.
Then before I can even blink, she reaches for my collar and yanks me closer to her. This is clearly starting to become our thing.
“Kneel for me,” she repeats, smiling wickedly.
“Fuck off—” She has me on my knees before I can utter a word of protest. Her hands placed on my shoulders, her fingers digging in.
Wow. She's strong. That cheerleader strength that's forcing me to stay on the ground. Or maybe my body is just refusing to get up, because I can't think straight with her hands on me like this. Not that Ieverthink straight.
This position feels intimate, even though it really shouldn't. She's looking down on me, breathing heavily and her hands still gripping my shoulders tightly.
I feel as if the world is frozen, like I'm stuck in place and can't do anything but stare up at her.
“Look at you, so fucking pathetic,” she coos down at me, biting her lip.
Her satisfied tone pulls me out of my frozen state and I instantly push her off. I stand up and rub my bare knees, which have gotten sore, all while she laughs smugly. Such a bitch.
“Get fucked,” I retort angrily. Honestly, it’s not my best comeback, but is all I can muster right now.
“I already did last night.”
Last night. When I threw her out of my house she went straight to Adonis? Why is that making me feel lightheaded? I don’t know much about Adonis. At times, I forget he’s even her boyfriend because I barely see them together at school.
Images of Juliette with that prick are invading my mind and my chest is recoiling at the thought of it; him on top of her, him inside her—No. No.
“Ditto.” I try to hide the irritation in my voice because I have no idea why I'm so furious that she had sex with her boyfriend.
Clearly, she's irritated too; her laughter has died out and she's glaring at me with her eyes narrowed. I can practically see the steam rolling out of her ears and I know she's about to come out with the vilest words because that's what she does when she can't control her anger; she takes it out on me.
She clenches her jaw. “You would really throw yourself at a weak girl like that? I mean, I can't really blame you. I guess you never really had any parents around to teach you about havingstandards.”
Third time. That's the third time she's mentioned the fact that I'm an orphan. I didn't respond with malice the first two times mostly because I didn't want to give her the satisfaction.
This time, I could care less. I won't hold back. This time I can't hold back. It’s different this time, the game we’ve been playing for years is catching up to us and fury is taking over.
“Yeah, lucky you. Having your father around to teach you all about having standards. I bet he taught you well.” I lean in closer to her. “Tell me, are you gonna grow up and fuck your boss too, just like daddy?”
Ten seconds. It takes that amount of time for me
to register that Juliette has slapped me in the face. It only takes half that time for her expression to turn horrified at what she’s done.
Me? I don’t waste any more time; I pounce on her. This is it, five years in the making, this is me finally giving in to the rage; the violence.
Snip. Snap. We collide.
Chapter TWELVE
J u l i e t t e
Hitme. Hurt me.Yes. She has her hands around my neck and mine are yanking her hair. We're both thrashing each other, but holding each other at the same time and it's burning my body violently.
This is everything I've ever wanted; she's giving into her carnal rage and I love it.
She slaps my cheek and I revel in the feeling. I deserve this for talking about her dead parents; taunting her about it.
That was a vile thing to do, even by my standards. I especially deserve her violence after slapping her. How could I do that? I just can't stop hurting her.
This has been a long time coming; maybe it’s because it’s our last year. It is probably because of the fear of never being able to see her again is driving me to do this to her. Maybe it’s the rage I feel when I think of her and that girl yesterday.
