24

Gianni

When I think I understand this girl, she leaves me wondering what the hell I was thinking, getting involved with her. The back and forth, up and down—it’s enough to make me want to throw her out on her ass and forget I ever set eyes on her.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” she whispers, cowering like a trapped fox when the hounds have closed in.

How dare she? She thinks I’ll let this go? Pretend this was only a misunderstanding? I’ve killed men for insulting me less than she has. Practically spitting in my fucking face after everything I’ve been willing to sacrifice.

How does she repay me? Running from me in my own home. Forcing me to chase her down.

And after all that, she thought a locked door would stop me from getting to her? Have we met? Does she not know me? As if I would let her get away. As if I wouldn’t stop at anything to make sure I have her forever.

“You can’t run from me.” I’m panting, grinding my teeth, hungry for the sound of her apologies. To make her hurt.

At the same