Author's Note:
Sorry that I didn't update last weekend. There was a rugby match (Ireland vs Argentina) that I went to (we won. Woo! Go Ireland) so I was busy. So sorry.
I'm not very happy with this chapter, but I guess you need to know how Emerald feels...
Hope you Enjoy!:)
Emerald
I didn't expect his comments to hurt so much, but they do. I suck my teeth to stop the tears from leaking out of my swimming eyes, but everything is going blurry and I know it's only a matter of time before the dickhead behind me sees me crying.
Again.
"You're a bastard, you know that?" I whisper, my voice not strong enough to say anything louder.
I hear a self-mocking laugh. "I know, baby, I know."
"Don't you call me "baby"." I hiss at him, gritting my teeth as the tears start to run down my cheeks. "You think you're the only one who dreamed of their soulfinder in this relationship?" I give a watered-down laugh. "Oh, sweetheart, all I've wanted since I was a little girl is for my knight-in-shining-armor to pick me up and take me away." I quickly wipe my cheeks. "Do you know how many nights when I was locked away that I screamed for you?! How, for the first few weeks in there, I barely slept because I was afraid that if I went to sleep I'd miss you coming to rescue me? That you'd call out for your soulfinder – me – and some other girl in there would say "yes" and you'd take her away instead of me."
I take a deep breath.
"And you think it's okay for you to tell me that I'm ruining your future? At least you have a future and a family and friends. My friends are all grown up, all of them thinking I'm dead. My parents are actually dead and what am I supposed to do for the rest of my life? I can't go to college, I have no money, no house or car or any kind of education. Hell, in the eyes of the world I'm dead."
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at the wall.
"So don't think for a second that you can guilt trip me into changing myself or into pitying you, because it's not going to work."
I finish my little tirade, scowling at nothing in particular and clenching my jaw.
I wait for him to answer.
To make a snarky retort.
To at least grunt in annoyance.
But when I turn around in his arms, to face him, I realise why he isn't doing any of those things.
The bastard has fallen asleep.
And instead of punching him or using my power to fling him against the wall, crushing his windpipe and killing him, I wind my arms around his body and pull myself towards him. I rest my head against his chest and entangle my legs with his. He makes a happy sound in his unconscious state and his grip on my waist tightens until he's squeezing me against him.
I guess I'm going soft.
Now that I'm out, and my dad is no longer around, I don't need to be bad anymore.
But I swear to God, Will Benedict is going to drive me back to it.
