Page 152 of Hate to Love You

I hit the door with such force it flings it open, slamming into the wall. My breathing is still ragged as I lean over the sink and set the letter opener on the counter beside me. My dark red blood glints up at me from the blade, and drips from the wound on my hand into the sink below.

How fucking careless of me.

Turning the faucet on, cold water flows over the cut, running red as it swirls around the white porcelain bowl.

But as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, I don’t care about the pulsing pain in my finger.

My demons are right there, staring back at me, screaming to be let out.

My fragmented heart tries desperately to calm itself with each breath, only to stutter and accelerate as an uncomfortable realization dawns on me.

I’m angry at him, but not just him.

I’m angry at Heather too.

Roman used her to make me jealous. To prove to me that I do want him as badly as he wants me. And he knew that of all the bitches in the office, Heather is the most condescending and rude, and therefore would bother me the most.

And yeah, it was his plan, but Heather knew what she was doing. She loved the part he asked her to play in his little game. She loved flaunting Roman in front of me.

It’s somehow ignited a fire in my chest and now all I really want to do is smash her fucking face in.

But that too would give him the reaction he wants.

I close my eyes, drawing in a trembling breath, and holding it, trying to put all these feelings back into the box, so I can process at a later date.

A much later date.

But before I can do that, the door creaks open.

The click of her heels echoes on the tile floor, and an overpowering scent of cheap synthetic floral perfume invades my nostrils.

Opening my eyes, I see Heather standing behind me, a smirk on her lips.

“Little Abigail Wayne,” she chirps with a laugh. “Guess you’re not so special after all.”

My fingers twitch, balling into fists.

“Nothing to say? Hmmm what a pity,” she sighs venomously before continuing, “I suppose I should head back. Now that the business is concluded, I think I might have Roman show me how skilled he is with his tongue. Well, you know, remind me, anyway.”

My jealousy bubbles in my chest, even though I know that all this bitch can do is taunt me.

At least Polina, seemed ready to put her hands on me when she was confronted. She might be a bitch, but at least she was brave enough to back up the shit she wanted to spew at me.

Heather isn’t. She’s weak. Pathetic.

She doesn’t deserve Roman.

A man like him deserves someone who can handle a little pain, someone who can fight their own battles. Someone whose demons will dance with his. Not some slut who wants to sleep her way to the top.

But as I watch Heather turn, time suddenly slows.

I hear her arrogant little chuckle, her heels tapping on the floor, and the jiggle of the handle as she reaches for it.

Then everything goes red.

I’m on her in a heartbeat. Gripping the back of her head by her hair I slam her face into the door as hard as I possibly can. She instantly drops to the floor, the weight of her body nearly knocking me over too.

With my chest heaving, and my pulse pounding in my ears, I stand over her unconscious body.