Page 35 of Crash into me
But the past is dead. Mine is, at least. And it will give Sophie a future. I think that’s worth it.
Warren looks sinister standing in my room; I wring my hands as I turn to face him.
“You shouldn’t be in here, I’ll come back down in a minute.” There’s a tremble in my voice and I cross my arms, my hands squeezing around the place he grabbed.
“You’re planned to be my wife; I think I can be in your room when it’s dark out.” He laughs.
He’s an arrogant, smug, rich prick. No wonder Kent wants me to marry him. Warren is just fucking like him.
Foster’s pacing underneath the open window. I hear his boots shuffling back and forth; I have to get him out of here. “You’re so funny,” I chuckle, loudly.
Warren grips my wrist firm, and flashbacks of pain course through my cold veins. I shudder, holding my lips closed tight to not let out a peep until I hear Foster’s boots walking away from me, from everything.
“What in the fuck, Skyler?”
I keep my voice low; it naturally comes out that way anyways. “What?”
“What in the fuck is going on?”
“I’m sorry about him. I don’t remember him, and he keeps showing up.”
Warren eyes blaze red. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“Please,” I plead. His grip tightens. “don’t hurt me.”
He looks down to his hand and softens his grip. “I’m using every restraint I have in my body to not throw you out of this fucking window,” he sneers, “and into his arms.” He twists his body around, his hand rolling to cover his mouth. “This entire situation is so fucked.”
I’m stunned, speechless. Finally, I speak. “What do you mean?”
He shakes his head, waving his hand around. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I promise I won’t talk to him anymore! You and I, we will be happy,” I declare, confused.
He throws his head back in frustration. “That’s not what I mean, Skyler.” He walks up to me, concern lacing his eyes. It’s an unfamiliar side of him that I’ve never experienced. Rigid and hollow, worried and unlike the prep school guys I’m used to. He seems to genuinely care.
“What do you mean then?” I dare to ask.
“My parents mentioned I wouldn’t have to marry you, and for the first time in my life I could breathe.” His admission is pure, I can tell. He grabs my hands. “And that’s not to say you’re not amazing, Skyler. But I don’t know you like that, and I don’t want to marry someone I’m not in love with.” His gaze travels away from me for a moment.
I hold my hands up, needing to pause the space around us so I can grasp what’s happening. “Wait, so you’re not an arrogant asshole?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I totally am, but not in the way your father is.”
“How do you know he’s an asshole?” I ask quietly.
“I justdo.”
“Well …” My heart races, and I don’t know what to say. “I think we could make it work.”
His head rolls back, his sharp jaw clenching. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” I lie.
He stalks closer to me. “I saw the checks your father wrote.” I shake my head, unable to speak. “What does he have over you?”
“Nothing,” I respond.
He changes his tone. “What do you have over him?”