Page 195 of Ignite

I open the door before he can even knock.

His bloodshot eyes widen, and he just blinks at me.

Neither of us says a word. We just stand there, staring at each other’s pain.

When he goes to take a step toward me, I aim the gun at him.

“Take another step closer, and I’ll shoot you in the dick, Conan.” My voice shakes, but I lift my chin defiantly.

His gaze fixes on the gun in my trembling right hand.

“Leave me alone,” I shout.

He shakes his head but stays where he is.

“I can’t do that, trouble,” he tells me quietly.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because…” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

My heart almost stops. Not now. He can’t do this to me now.

“Because I love?—”

“Don’t you fucking dare say it,” I scream, even though deep down, a part of me needs to hear him say those words.

When he flinches, a little part of me dies inside.

Loving Conan is going to kill me.

But I can’t let him say the words. I can’t stand to even hear them right now.

Because he doesn’t love me. How the hell could he?

The man I fell for—he wasn’t a monster. But the man I now know him to be is just that.

“I never want to see you again, Conan.” My voice nearly breaks as I say the words.

There’s no cheeky grin or soft-spoken whisper from him that can make this better.

I rub the ache in my chest, staring into his sad green eyes.

“You don’t mean that. Not really. Please, Hallie. Don’t leave me. I fucked up. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just let me explain.”

“What the hell is there to explain, Conan? You had me kidnapped, then thrown in the fucking woods for a sick game of survival. One that you, you sick son of a bitch, run. You created a game for your fantasies—fine. But that doesn’t include me, does it? You think I want a man who hunts women in the woods to fuck them? How many of the girls did you stick your dick in while I was competing?”

I feel physically sick.

“None. I wouldn’t do that. I only want you, Hallie.”

I let out a laugh, tipping my head back.

“Yeah. For now. Until you get that urge. Or what? Until you host your next games. Get out. I can’t even look at you.”

He takes a step forward, and I take one back. He’s in my house now. Fuck.

“The games are my past. They’re not what you think. Not entirely anyway.”

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