Page 153 of Hate to Love You
Fuck! I really just did that.
I’ve never been this foolish. I’ve never reacted impulsively, no matter how much I’ve wanted to.
But then Heather starts whimpering, and I realize I have to do something.
“Shut up and let me think,” I bark, but she moans, louder this time.
It’s going to draw attention.
Honestly, there’s no way for me to know if her absence has drawn attention already. And if anyone comes in here and sees this, I won’t be able to cover it up.
I need time. Time to think of what I’m going to do, how I’m going to sort this fucking mess sorted out.
Stepping over her, I quickly click the lock on the bathroom door in place, my brain struggling to process everything I just did.
Heather moans louder, attempting to roll over.
Nope. Can’t have that. I need to restrain her.
But…with what?
Then an idea comes to me.
Setting the blade on the floor I pull up my skirt, shimmy my tights off, followed by my panties. Straddling Heather, I grab her hands pulling them behind her back and wrap my tights around each wrist, locking them behind her back.
I roll her back over, she stares up at me, her eyes wide and disoriented as they dance around the room.
“Surprise, bitch, it’s me.”
We stare at each other in silence, before the sound of a door opening outside catches our attention. Heather draws in a breath before opening her mouth, a scream building in her throat. But, before she has a chance I shove my panties in her mouth.
“Humph!” She screams, a tear leaking from her eye.
Running my finger down the mascara stain on her cheek, I wipe it before placing it on my lips.
“Shhh,” I whisper, cocking my head. “You’ve got to keep your voice down.”
She thrashes her head back and forth, her entire body visibly trembling as she lays there.
“You think you deserve him?” I mutter, smoothing her hair from her face, “You think you can keep him?”
She shakes her head again, her feet kicking underneath me. Reaching over her I grab the letter opener from the tile. Heather’s eyes instantly go wide the moment she sees the obsidian blade, one she must’ve seen a hundred times…on Roman’s desk.
“Humph! Humph!” She grunts.
In the cold fluorescent lights of the bathroom, the bright red ruby on the hilt sparkles, and for the first time I can see how detailed the ring that encompasses this gem actually is.
It truly is immaculate craftsmanship.
Unlike this slut underneath me.
There’s nothing immaculate about this cheap knockoff Malibu Barbie bitch.
Slowly my fingers flex against the smooth cool handle.
“You know what you are?” I whisper, leaning in close to her, savoring the look of her bloodshot eyes blinking up at me, sweat coating her brow. “Stupid. He used you; you know that don’t you? He used you to get to me, to get a reaction. You mean absolutely nothing to him.”
I trail the blade gently down her cheek, watching with satisfaction as the first layer of skin flays under its touch. It’s not deep enough to make her bleed, but enough to leave a faint line behind.