Page 129 of Touch of Hate

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Page 129 of Touch of Hate

I don’t think he’s ever sounded this way when talking about the attack—I don’t think we’ve ever discussed it, actually, after he admitted he was the attacker. I’ve been afraid to bring it up for obvious reasons.

“Time has softened that, and you had your reasons.” Reasons I’m still unsure of, but… “I know you did. You wouldn’t hurt him unless you felt like there was a reason for it.”

But that happened before he left Corium, and all this time, I’ve been assuming he was injured after leaving. Which means he wasn’t injured or sick when he attacked my family. So why did he—

He flings me away from him suddenly, and I bounce on the bed while he stalks from the room. “Fuck you, Scarlet. You’ve been a mistake from the beginning, just like I told him.”

“What are you talking about?”

My words fall on deaf ears since he doesn’t hesitate in slamming the door shut and locking it.

“Ren!” I jump from the bed and fling myself at the door, jiggling the knob to no avail. “Why? Why are you doing this?”

His voice is loud and strong on the other side of the door. “If you’re not with us, you have no place in my life.”

“You can’t mean that. You know I’m with you.”

He doesn’t say a word. He’s shut me out again.

I touch my forehead to the wood, tears coursing down my cheeks, my heart aching like it’s about to shatter.

Please, Ren, please come back to me.

30

SCARLET

I’m unsure how much time passes.

I’m no longer crying. A numbness has overtaken my mind.

I never thought I’d find myself here, least of all with Ren. My eyes are swollen and hurt from the constant crying, but more than that, my heart hurts.

How long did I beg him to let me out? How many times did I tell him to speak to me, to let me explain what I meant? I’ve lost track, half out of my mind with fear and confusion.

I cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a sob.

The truth is right in front of me, written in blinking neon letters a hundred feet high. I can’t help him. I love him, and I can’t help him.

I’m carrying his child, and I can’t ease whatever torture he’s going through. Because that’s what it is. He’s being tortured by whatever lives inside his head.

I’m the world’s biggest fool. But then, how was I supposed to know how bad things really were?

Maybe you would have if you’d stepped back and looked at everything clearly. No. Instead, I made excuse after excuse for him, explaining away the mood swings and how he treated me.

The way he not only killed a man but laughed at my reaction.

I should have seen it then.

Why didn’t I see it? That he’s sick, really sick.

Because you didn’t want to see it. Because you thought you could help him.

Denial is a hell of a thing.

I can’t believe it didn’t hit me until an hour ago. If he pushed Q down the stairs, which he has admitted, he must already have been sick before he left Corium.

His condition was under our noses all this time, and we never saw it.




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