f**k, maybe I am. I don’t know what the f**k is going on. Too many lines have been crossed that nothing makes sense anymore.
Like right now, she’s standing in front of me, silently crying, and all I can think about is throwing her to the floor and holding this knife to her throat while I f**k her wet cunt, and she begs for her life. Something to give me control over the situation again because I’ve lost her.
Whatever hold I had on her is gone. I went too far last night. Or maybe she went too far with letting me have my way.
I step back, close the pocketknife, and point at my door. “Get the f**k out of my room.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice. Ripping my door open, she runs out, and I slam it shut behind her.
“f**k!” I throw the knife across my room. She rejected me. She gave Nate f
