Page 37 of Exposed
He grabs my hands, squeezing them. A lock of curly hair falls over his forehead. This is the man I should want.
But I don’t want him.
“You can’t let this obsession control you,” he warns. “You just want a real family. All of us do. No one can blame you for that. But your mother is dead, and you’re still here.” My insides are crushed to a pulp, my mouth open. His features stiffen. “Don’t throw your life away for some vague chance at a family that was never meant to exist in the first place.”
Never meant to exist? He’s sayingIwasn’t meant to exist.
My heart breaks.
Benji thrusts the gear and reverses out of the parking spot. “Fuck this,” he mutters. “We’re leaving.”
“Wait. Why?” I ask. “Where are you taking me?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” he grunts. “Not fucking here.”
The car speeds down the street. A gas station. A general store. An empty field. The main road. The highway is close now.
We’re close. We’re way too close.
I can’t leave.
“Stop it!” I shout. “I need to go back!”
“No, you don’t.”
He keeps driving. I grab the pocketknife from the cupholder and flick it open. “Go backnow,Benji, or I swear to the blood in my veins, I will hurt you.”
“You won’t.” He steps on the gas. “You’re not that kind of person. You’re not like him, Violet. You’regood.”
“Go back!”
“No!”
I lurch forward. The knife slices Benji’s arm; the car swerves. Oncoming headlights sear across our vision. A car honks. We veer into an empty field.
Benji slams on the brakes.
I wheeze; my knife is dotted with blood. Benji gawks at his wound. It’s not deep, but Ididhurt him. Why did I do that?
What’s wrong with me?
“I’m not done,” I cry. “I have to go back.”
Benji narrows his gaze at me, but water glosses the bottom of his eyes; there’s pain in his expression, like he’s about to break too. He looks away.
He must think I’m choosing Dr. Ambrose over him.
I am, aren’t I?
There’s a better chance of me finding out who I am if Iput off my revenge plan for a little while longer. If Dr. Ambrose helps me explore my desires, then maybe I’ll see how similar and different I am to my mother and father. Maybe my life will finally make sense, and I’ll be able to move on.
“I have to do this,” I whisper.
“What is ‘this’ exactly?” Benji’s shoulders quiver. “Do you even want to kill him anymore?”
My bottom lip trembles. I can’t speak.
Benji sighs. He turns the car around, the tires rolling softly against the dirt.
