Page 74 of Break Me
Benji might have done bad things, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. Our lives aren’t black and white, and neither are our hearts. Our souls. But one always outweighs the other and in Rolland, the bad obliterates the good.
“Riley,” Rolland croons, but his voice now has an edge to it, “I’m going to need you to talk to me, darling. I’ve been looking for you for a very long time. I don’t like how we left things.”
He spins her around, pushing her against the wall opposite her mother. He has one hand clamped over her shoulder, the other still on the gun.
What happened to them? What does he mean?
Riley, reluctantly, looks up to meet Rolland’s gaze. And it’s from this side, seeing his profile, that I realize Rolland looks like someone.
Like Caden.
But no…
“What do you want from me?” Riley finally whispers, her voice hoarse. Her hands aren’t in fists, they’re just hanging limply by her side, as if she’s defeated. Deflated. Resigned.
Rolland smiles and I see wrinkles form at the corner of his eye. I don’t know why I’m paying attention to it, but I can’t move. I’m frozen here, useless.
“You know what I want, Riley. What I almost had.” His hand slides down her shoulder to her arm, then to her waist. I see Riley swallow. “You have the power to end this, darling. Come back with me.”
Riley blinks.
And then she seems to come back to herself. To snap back into the girl I’ve caught glimpses of these past few months.
Her jaw hardens, her eyes narrow and her hands curl into fists.
“Fuck you,” she says with so much hatred, it’s nearly palpable. “Fuck you, Rolland.” She knocks his hand off of her waist and I think it’s sheer surprise that makes him take a step back, nearly bumping into Ms. Larson’s wheelchair.
Riley points a finger in Rolland’s chest and steps closer to him, nearly standing on her tiptoes to be at his height. “You are a fucking piece of shit. I don’t give a damn what you do to me. You will always be a piece of shit.”
Rolland stares at her a second and Riley doesn’t falter. She lowers her hand but she doesn’t back down.
I stand to my feet, still gripping the wooden back of the chair to keep my balance because I’m not sure I won’t fall, my knees still trembling, but at least I’m standing. Rolland doesn’t glance my way. Neither does Riley.
But then Rolland finally reacts. He reaches around and twines Riley’s hair in his fist, yanking her head back so her throat is exposed to him. He presses the barrel of the gun to the hollow of her throat and I clamp both hands over my mouth.
Fear washes over me, cold and icy.
But before Rolland can say anything, or do anything else, there’s a pounding at the door.
“Open the goddamn door!” Benji calls out as he beats on it.
Rolland freezes, but then he smiles, looking from Riley, past me, down the hall to where the door is.
“I knew they would end up sharing you, darling,” Rolland whispers quietly. He leans down, moves the gun and runs his tongue down her throat as Benji keeps beating against the door.
I don’t know how he knows—maybe because we haven’t come back yet, or maybe because he always seems to know everything—but Benji knows something isn’t right.
And he seems to know why, judging by his next words.
“Rolland, if you don’t open this fucking door I will cut your dick off and feed it to you.” His voice is loud enough to carry down the hall, through the door, but he sounds strangely calm.
Rolland pushes Riley away and stalks down the hallway. At once, Riley moves, pushing her mom down the hall and into her bedroom. She closes the door quietly, I suppose so as not to attract Rolland’s attention, who is now shouting through the door to Benji. But I’m not listening because Riley yanks me to my feet, drags me into the kitchen, and hands me a knife.
A chef’s knife, the same kind she was holding when Tess and I walked into her condo. Of course she hadn’t been fucking Benji. She’d been scared for her life.
Her green eyes hold mine as she grips a knife in her own hand.
Benji and Rolland are still yelling at one another, but no one has opened the door.
