Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
“Fuck you.”
Another pout. “Sorry. I didn’t get the chance. Too busy recording the event.”
“You know, I was pregnant. I lost my baby because of what you did that night.”
His cold laughter chills my blood. “Then you should thank me twice. I did the kid a favor. Why would they want a mother like you?”
I can’t believe anybody could be this much of a monster. After everything I’ve seen, been through, nothing is worse than this. He can stand there and laugh when I tell him he helped kill my baby. He’s not real. He doesn’t have a soul. How could he?
I turn away, my head spinning, my heartbeat pounding in my ears like a drum. I can hardly see, and I’m panting for air. He killed my baby. He killed my baby, and he’s laughing about it.
“Come on. Maybe we can have a little more fun tonight. That’s why I came here, you know. I didn’t get my turn back at the warehouse.” I hear him coming toward me, crossing the room. Sirens blare in my head. He’s going to hurt me. I have to stop him. He killed my baby.
I take hold of my bedpost, and my eye falls upon what’s left of dinner. And there, sitting on top of my plate is a steak knife.
“Come on. You might even end up liking it this time.” Nash’s hand lands on my shoulder like a deadly spider. His touch is soft but instantly tightens into a vise grip. “Not that I give a shit. I’m going to fill your holes, and you’re going to take it.”
I pivot, raising my arm to shoulder level. He never sees it coming.
The steel sinks into his chest, cutting off his nasty laughter. I pull the blade free and plunge it down again. He lets go of me, covering the red blooms spreading over his shirt. He looks down, then up at me, his mouth hanging open and his eyes bulging.
Again. Again. In and out, harder, faster. He drops to the floor on his back, gasping, blood soaking through his clothes, splashing me every time I withdraw the blade. I feel it on my hands, warm and sticky. And it feels good. A rush of something like joy rolls over me, and I laugh.
Until the wave subsides and pulls back and leaves cold, hard truth behind.
I stare at Nash’s dead body sprawled out on the floor. Blood seeps from the multiple stab wounds decorating his chest like a piece of art. I should probably be freaking out right now, screaming and crying. I should feel terrible for what I’ve done, but all I can think of is how relieved I am that he is gone. No… it’s more than a relief. I’m… proud. I’m proud of what I’ve done.
For the first time, I feel like I’m taking control. For so long, everyone around me dictated my life, chose what I would do, how I live, and who I am. They used me and my body. Not today. Today, I’m the powerful one. I’m the one clutching onto a bloody knife. I’m the one who decided to end Nash’s life. Now I have to live with the consequences. Surprisingly, I’m not scared of it. Whatever is coming, I’ll face it. I find comfort in knowing that this is my choice and that I rid the world of him.
My breathing is unexpectedly calm. My heart beats in an even rhythm as I set the knife onto the counter and wash my hands in the sink until the water runs clear.
After I dry my hands, I find my phone on the coffee table and swipe the screen open. Since I only have four contacts in my phone, it doesn’t take me long to find Ella. I hit the video call button and take a seat on the couch, so she will only see me and the wall as my background.
It doesn’t take long for her to answer. Her familiar face calms me even further, making me smile.
“Aspen, is everything okay?”
“Yes, I just wanted to tell you something, and it’s important that you see me and know how serious I am.”
“Okay.” She sounds wary. “What’s going on?”
“First, I wanted to say thank you again for everything you did for me. Especially after what my father did to you. I’m sorry about that…”
“You don’t have to apologize for that.”
“I know, but I still feel like saying it. Maybe if I hadn’t been so naïve, things would have been different.”
“None of this was your fault.”
“I know that too. Before, nothing was my choice… until now. Which is why I’m actually calling. I wanted to tell you not to worry about me and don’t try to help me from now on. I’m okay, really okay. So please don’t worry about me and don’t let Quinton interfere. I don’t want him or you in danger.”