But the word is hardly above a whisper, and I hang up withoutensuring he heard me clearly.
When my hand falls limply into my lap, Dread’s frown deepens, glancing at the phone’s screen to see the call has ended before lifting his gaze back to mine.
I’m so fucking stupid.
So,sofucking stupid.
Steel walls instantly slam down inside my chest. Not a single emotion can penetrate them, leaving me feeling barren and numb. For several long moments, all I can do is stare sightlessly at the floor, wondering how the fuck I let Dreadful fucking Sharpe manipulate me to this extent.
Truthfully, I have no one to blame but myself.
Slowly, I stand while he watches me closely. He’s quiet, his sharp stare lingering for an extra beat, and then he scoffs out a humorless laugh as he, too, rises to his feet.
“You think I was behind this.” It’s not a question, but a statement.
“Mind games have always been your favorite,” I say tonelessly. “You and your friends have experience creating fake dead bodies, do you not? Or did you already forget about the dummy chopped up into bloody pieces on my dorm room floor?”
He turns his gaze off to the distance and huffs out another small chuckle, nodding to himself, as if he’s coming to terms with something.
I hold out my hand. “Let me have the box, please.”
He tightens his lips into a firm line and places it in my splayed palm.
Beyond the impenetrable walls, I know hurt, disappointment, and humiliation swirl at the speed of a hurricane. But in this moment, I feel none of it.
“I knew you were cruel, Dread, but after everything, I—” I cut myself off. There’s no use trying to make him feel guilty. He never does, and he never will.
And frankly, I’m fucking exhausted.
His eyes slide to mine, giving nothing away.
“You’re just as sick as him.”
Then, I turn and walk away, keeping my pace measured. He’s probably pissed I’m not running away crying or screaming, asking how he could do this to me. He’d probably get off on it if I was.
Instead, I do what I’ve always done and refuse to break.
But it’s different this time—he’s actually succeeded. I’m merely concealing his victory, hoping I can keep it hidden away until graduation.Then, when it’s safe and I’ve finally escaped him, I will remove the steel walls protecting me and release the cataclysm I’ve kept contained within. It’ll annihilate everything in its path and leave me utterly shattered, just like he’s always wanted.
Except, when the storm clears and I’m forced to sort through the wreckage to slowly piece myself back together, there’ll be nothing beneath my splintered rib cage except a black stain where my heart used to live. There will be no remnants of it, though, because it’s in his hands now.
I don’t know why I gave it to a broken man who wanted nothing more than to break me, too.
“Octavia said four words to me yesterday.”
The sudden voice nearly sends me flying out of my seat in the cafeteria.
Severen sits in the seat across from me, an apple juice box and a romance novel in hand—looks like a paranormal romance this time.
Rogue dropped me off at the cafeteria before he had to get to practice five minutes ago. Severen was running a few minutes behind for his babysitting shift, but since it's a crowded area, they weren't worried anything would happen to me in the meantime. I knew he was going to show up, but the asshole didn't have to sneak up on me like that.
“I’m happy for you,” I mutter before taking a bite of my Cobb salad while trying to calm my racing heart.
His amber eyes sparkle with excitement, a stark contrast to his deep auburn hair. “She said, ‘Leave me alone, Severen.’”
I pause, another bite halfway to my mouth. “And why do you look so ecstatic about that?”
He jerks his head back, his expression twisting with confusion and judgment, like I’m an idiot for not knowing the answer. “Because shetalked to me. Like, directly to my face. Made eye contact. Said my name. Things she barely does now.”
