But I don’t move.
Not yet.
Because he’s got the gun.
Because she’s behind me and he’s looking at her.
But I need him focused on me.
Not her. Never her.
“I wasn’t hiding from you,” she says, her voice shaking.
Okay. Pivot.
Keep him talking.
Keep him engaged.
“Don’t lie to me,” he snaps.
“I’m not?—”
“You whore,” he cuts her off. “You chose him.”
My jaw tightens.
“You did,” he insists, stepping forward.
I shift with him.
Matching.
Blocking.
“I sent him videos. Showing him what we could have! I thought when you saw them you were supposed to pick me!”
“But I-I don’t love you,” she says.
“YES YOU DO OR I’LL SHOOT!” Paul screams like a maniac.
“Hey Paul, over here,” I snap. “You don’t get to rewrite shit,” I growl.
His eyes flick to me.
Cold.
Hateful.
“Esme is mine,” he pouts like a fucking baby.
“Like hell she is,” I shoot back, my voice dropping low enough to promise violence.
“You don’t get it, Benny! I have the gun! I get the girl!”
Okay, now he’s really starting to piss me off. And I know I have to make a move.
I’ve taken down men with less.
