Page 71 of Lana Pecherczyk
“I don’t know.” She avoided his gaze. “I mean, I don’t think so. There might have been a woman. But in the end, I had no idea who he really was, so I can’t be sure.”
A woman of substance.
“Hmm.” River kicked her feet into a wider stance. “So he was a veritable stranger.”
“Exactly!”
He adjusted her grip on the dagger. “How did that make you feel?”
“Like I wasted me life on someone who wasn’t that into me.”
“And?”
“And it hurt.”
“Release here when you throw.” His body pressed against her spine as he demonstrated the action with his hand locked around hers. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did it hurt when your ex treated you that way?”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it?”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Because I felt used! Humiliated and confused. It doesn’t make sense that he wasted half his life on me, someone he thought was ordinary. There’s no other explanation except that he thought I was a joke. He played me.”
“And that made you feel…”
“Annoyed. Angry!” She spun to face him, but he rotated her back toward the tree, his hands firm on her shoulders.
“Let it out,” he murmured.
A rage-filled scream ripped from her throat, and she threw the dagger, just as he’d shown her. It struck the bark far below the face. But it was embedded, hilt wobbling.
“Argh!” She stomped over and yanked it free. “I can’t even hit the right spot.”
“So cheat. Fight dirty. Fucking stab him up close.” River feigned an uppercut with his fist. “Cut him where it hurts.”
Blake rounded on the tree. She stabbed bark. Once. Twice. Again. “You asshole!”
“You can do better. Tell him what you really think.”
“I fucking will, you fucking cunt!” The blade struck deeper. “You thought you were the AFL’s hottest player, Jeff, but you weren’t!” Each blow punctuated her words. “Every time you packed on muscle, it just made you look shorter!” Stab. Stab. “Made your dick shrink!” Hack. Chop. “And when I told you that mullet looked good, I LIED!”
The blade bit into the wood again and again.
“Ishould have seen the warning signs.” Chop. Chop. “Should have known a man who couldn’t organize a root in a brothel was a loser.” STAB. STAB. “Should have known you were no good the FIRST time you forgot our anniversary instead of the last.” Her voice cracked. “Should have known better than to make you my whole world.”
“Blake?”
Her vision blurred. “People keep leaving me.”
She stabbed dick-face right in the eye, growling, “I gave all my attention to you instead of me dad. Me family.” She choked on a breath. “I gave everything to the wrong person, and now I’ll never see the right ones again!”
She screamed at the universe until the carved face disappeared beneath splinters and pulp. Warm hands enveloped hers, easing the dagger from her seized grip. “I think you got him good.”
Her destruction came into focus.
