Hate me

I can feel my heart physically breaking into a thousand pieces. 

My father is dead. 

He’s never coming back. 

I’m on my own. 

Heart lodged in my throat, I run out of the room, desperate for air. 

The moment I stumble out the back, I lean against the building and drop my head, forcing myself to breathe so I don’t pass out. 

God, I’m so angry with him for being a thief. 

So angry with him for leaving me.

The tears finally fall, and for the first time since I found out he was gone, I give myself over to the heartache and cry. 

It hurts so bad. Like someone plunged a dagger straight into my sternum and twisted it until I finally bled out. 

A wave of sorrow washes over me and my knees buckle, hitting the ground. I’m so lost in my grief; I don’t realize I’m not alone. 

Not until a pair of black boots comes into view. 

I don’t even have to look up to know who they belong to. I always feel his presence…kind of like how some people’s bones ache right before it rains. 

“What do you want?” 

I peer up at him when he doesn’t answer. 

He’s wearing a black hoodie and dark jeans. The full moon illuminates the sharp lines of his face as he takes a cigarette out of a pack and brings it to his mouth. 

Silently, he studies me…like I’m some strange new specimen under a microscope. 

A puzzle he can’t quite figure out. 

Narrowing my eyes, I stand. 

“What do you want?” I repeat, harsher this time. 

Frustration claws its way up my throat when he doesn’t respond, and I shove him. 

“Why the hell are you here, Knox?” 

I go to shove him again, but he backs me against the building, his arms caging me in. 

I freeze, my insides seizing up when long fingers curl around my neck and he dips his head. 

His rough voice is a menacing rumble in my ear. “Because I knew you’d be in pain.” A cold sweat breaks over me and a weird twist goes through my chest when his tongue darts out and he licks my tear-stained cheek. “And I wanted to see it.”

His cruel words punch into my heart. “I hate you.” 

I mean the proclamation with every fiber of my being. 

His dark laugh is every bit as callous as he is when he pushes off me and stalks away.