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“You ungrateful little bitch,” he breathed. “Do you know what I did for you? Do you know how many places I looked? How many people I called? I tore half this county apart looking for you, and you sit there like I’m the monster?”

Tears burned my eyes. “You are.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His grip tightened. I saw the rage hit him. Saw it flare behind his eyes. But underneath it, there was nothing. No broken boy trying to crawl out of the dark.

Just Brandon. Just the man who loved control more than he ever loved me.

“You think he’s better than me?” he asked, voice shaking now. “Is that it? He chained you up, fucked with your head, did God knows what to you, and now you’re looking at me like I’m worse?”

Brandon leaned closer, his breath hot against my face. “Did he make you feel special? Is that what this is? Did the psycho cry in your lap and suddenly you forgot what he was?”

My chest ached. I hated that he knew. I hated that he could throw it in my face and make it sound filthy.

“He’s sick,” I whispered. “There’s stuff that happened in his past. He wasn’t bad all the time.”

Brandon’s mouth twisted. “And what am I?”

I stared at him.

Malakar hurt me like he was trying to keep the dark from swallowing him. Brandon hurt me because he liked watching me crawl.

“You’re the thing that makes me want to run. You’re the thing that feels nothing.”

Brandon slapped me across the face. I yelped after his hand made contact. He smacked me again, then again. Then, he yanked me by the hair and threw me to the ground. He stood over me and pressed his shoe down onto my chest. Brandon pressed down, making it hard to breathe, to think.

“You’re just a fucking whore, Starla. Can’t trust you with anything. You make everything about yourself.” His weight dug into my chest, pain spiking through my ribs, every breath a new kind of agony.

I tried to twist away, but he pressed down harder, grinding the heel of his boot on my sternum. I thought my chest my snap.

“You’re not even sorry,” Brandon spat. “Look at you. You don’t even try to change. You’re broken. Filthy. Do you like making me fucking miserable?”

My whole body trembled. I shook my head, but it didn’t matter.

He dragged me up by the hair, yanked so hard my jaw popped. I whimpered, tried not to, but it hurt. I was pathetic. I always was.

“Answer me!” He was nose-to-nose with me. “Do you get off on making me look weak? Do you want people laughing at me, thinking I can’t keep my own bitch in line?”

My mouth opened. Nothing came out except a little, desperate gasp. He slapped me. Open-palmed. Right across the cheekbone, then again, so fast my vision fuzzed out and there was only pain, electric and red.

“You embarrass me,” Brandon said. His voice was ice cold, emotionless except for rage. The worst kind. “First, you leave. Then, you let some psycho tie you up. Did you suck his cock, Starla? Huh? Bet you loved it.”

“You don’t know what happened, you weren’t there!” I tried to defend myself, but with people like Brandon, it was no use. In his mind, he was right, and I was wrong. I would always be wrong. He would always take everything as a personal attack, and I was always the bad guy.

He crouched down. Grabbed my cheeks, fingers digging into the bone. “You’re lying.”

I shook, tears streaming down my face and dripping off my chin. I wanted to disappear. Dissolve into the carpet, be nothing. I wanted to be good.

“I’m not. I’m not lying, Brandon, please, you have to believe me.”

He let go. His hand wrapped around my throat, squeezed. Not enough to kill, just enough to squeeze the panic out of me. My vision blurred at the edges. Stars sparked, threatening to put me under.

“Stupid bitch. Always making me do this! You’re always pushing me, Starla. Pushing me to punish you. It’s like you want pain.” He choked me extra hard, then let go. I gasped for air.

Brandon towered over me, shoulders hunched, jaw flexing like he wanted to grind my bones into dust. His hands curled, knuckles pale. He looked at me with a kind of deadness. That endless void. He couldn’t see me. Only the thing he wanted to hurt.

He leaned down, his fist hovering in the air. “Do you know what I should do to you for running off like that? You embarrass me. I put up with your shit, and you turn around and whore yourself out to some psycho. What the fuck does that say about me, Starla? Huh?”