Page 300 of Ruin Me Gently

For a second, all he does is stare. Then he laughs. It curdles in my veins.

“You wanna play the victim now?” he sneers. “Poor little Lilith, so sad, so screwed up.” His grip tightens, nails biting into my skin. “You wanna bleed? Is that it?”

“Let me go,” I grit out, twisting my arm again.

“You wanna know what real pain feels like?” His smile stretches wider, meaner. “I can help with that.”

“Get off me,” I snap, but my voice shakes.

His fingers flex, and suddenly he’s dragging me closer—shoving me hard against the counter. My hip slams into the edge, sharp pain flaring up my side.

“You wanna die so bad?” His breath hits my face, hot and sharp and stinking of beer. “Maybe I should show you how it’s done.” His fingers clamp tighter. “Maybe I should slit your wrists. Make it look like you did it yourself.”

Icy cold fear sweeps through every single nerve, capillary, vein, synapse.

“Yeah,” he mutters, smile curling at the edges. “Bet no one would even ask questions.”

He yanks my arm back, and my wounds tear open. A sharp, burning sting rips across my wrist, and suddenly there’s hot, slick blood sliding down my fingers.

“Stop!” I gasp, shoving at him with my free hand, but he doesn’t budge.

“You think I won’t?” His grip crushes tighter, forcing my arm back again, higher, testing how far it’ll go before something snaps.

I panic. I rip my arm back, twisting free just as the glass slips from my other hand and shatters on the floor.

“Don’t touch me,” I spit, backing away fast,clutching my bleeding wrist to my chest.

He doesn’t move right away, just stands there, breathing hard, eyes locked on me like he’s still deciding if he’s finished.

And then his face twists.

“You think you’re clever? Think you’re tough?”

Pain explodes along my cheekbone, hot and searing. For a second, everything blurs. White noise ringing in my ears, the copper tang of blood blooming on my tongue.

I stumble, catching myself against the wall.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” he mutters, snatching his keys off the counter like this was all just a minor inconvenience. “Get your shit together, Lilith.”

And then he’s gone, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the windows.

I stay there, pressed against the wall, my breath coming in shallow gasps. Glass glitters across the floor in jagged shards, red smeared through it like something from a crime scene.

I know I should move—clean it up, patch myself up, do something. But I can’t.

I’m stuck there, shaking, replaying his words over and over in my head.

‘Maybe I should show you how it’s done…’

I press my hand tighter over the cut, fingers trembling.

And then I feel it—that prickling sensation that crawls up your spine when someone’s watching you.

I turn slowly, every muscle in my body screaming ‘don’t look.’

She’s standing in the doorway. Evelyn.

Her eyes flick to the blood smeared across my arm, to the mess of glass on the floor, to the red mark burning bright across my cheek.

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