The Good Girl's Bad Side

Chapter 57: You killed her...

Chapter 57: You killed her...

"I want revenge."

Revenge?

"What do you mean?" I ask in shock.

"Okay, kids!" Luther interrupts us, reminding us about his presence. "That's enough bickering for one day. Tristan," he says to my supposedly now ex, "-you may leave."

Tristan doesn't waste another second and he rips his gaze away from mine before abruptly leaving the room.

"That was... fun." Is this man insane or what?

Piece of advice, don't name your child Luther, or else...

............

Two days.

No proper food, but the constant microwave soup with an awful taste.

Forty-eight hours of trying to fathom the past days' events.

Two thousand, eight hundred and eighty minutes of constantly questioning yourself about what went wrong and why.

"I want revenge."

Tristan's words are still sailing along the rough seas of my never-ending thoughts of confusion and anger.

He seeks revenge, but revenge on what?

Think, Hailey, think!

The sound of a screeching metal door pulls me out of my reverie and brings me back to reality. In walks a strikingly gorgeous Tristan, as ever, clad in dark jeans with a black and white Adidas hoodie. What is supposed to be a turn off, but isn't, is his cold expression towards me-- creased eyebrows, and no smile but a deep scowl.

'Til this hour, my head still turns in confusion as to why the only person I thought I could trust betrayed me.

I thought I had already felt enough pain to last me the rest of my life. But no, my mother had to trap me in the illusion that we were one perfect family, when all along, I hadn't even been living with my biological father.

And now, Tristan just joined the list of the people who decided that hurting Hailey could be a trend. He tricked me into making me trust him and confide in him. He jumped into my life unexpectedly and changed everything I had failed to change myself.

But all that was an act to draw me closer to Luther.

"Luther wants to see you." Tristan's cold voice cuts through my anger-filled thoughts.

I stay silent.

"Silent treatment?" He asks with a devious smirk, almost mirroring Luther's signature one.

I still remain silent.

"I'm not even going to waste my energy on squeezing words out of your mouth." He rolls his eyes.

He cuts every rope tying me to the uncomfortable metal chair and says sternly, "Don't even think about fighting me."

"How could you?" I ask in defeat. "Why would you?"

Tristan freezes at my questions for a few seconds, before grabbing my arm forcefully, bringing me abruptly to my weak feet.

Having not moved my legs for almost two miserable days, my balance falters but Tristan's strong arms wrap around my waist before I could make out with the dusty floor.

After catching me, he doesn't move his arms from my body but instead his hazel orbs stare into my calculating ones. His grip on me is tightening by the minute, and I lift a hand to cup his cheek.