Cold Devotion | ✔️

Chapter Twelve

Grabbing the knife from beside me, I lunge towards him. I push him against the wall and place the knife to his throat, a trickle of blood falls down his neck and I smile at him. "You wanna repeat that?" I press the knife further. Not so intimidating now, are you?

"You're. A. Whore," the words burn into my memory and I am sure I will never forget them. I am so sick of people and their labels for me. Weak, childish, whore. I want nothing more than to plunge this knife into his abdomen but I can't. I can't bring myself to do it. "You can't do it," he smiles and presses his neck further into the knife that is now covered in a crimson gloss.

"Maybe I just feel bad that you almost died from a piece of glass earlier today," I make a point to laugh at him and really rub it in. I'm sure he's embarrassed that his life merely came down to a shard of glass seen as how big and mighty he is. "Having to call your father to come save the day?" I mock him. His eyes darken and I know I've hit the spot. "That must have really been-" his hands latch around my neck but I don't let it affect me.

"If you want to live, I suggest you keep your mouth shut," he's now pressed me against the wall instead. It's hard to breathe but I'll manage. I'm sick of him pushing me around calling me crap.

"Now why would I do that?" I use his famous words and he laughs to himself.

A deep, hollow laugh.

"Because... I am getting more sick of you by the second and that won't work out well for either of us," he spits and I have a feeling I am supposed to be scared.

"Aw, you know how bad I wanted it to work out between us," I say sarcastically and run my hands down his chest. He loosens his grip and in his moment of weakness, I push his hand off of me and step away from him.

What an eventful evening this has been. I planned to just get back, have a shower and go to sleep. I'm too tired for these shenanigans. I almost died trying to save him, shouldn't he be thankful? Not barging into my room and calling me a whore.

"It gets harder and harder every day to put up with you," Colton runs a hand through his dark, thick hair. It's hard to put up with me? Has he even met himself?

"How do you think I feel?" I retort and he glares at me. No, I am done with this and him. I don't know why I keep on letting him around me and letting him talk to me but it needs to stop. This relationship or whatever you want to call it, between us, isn't normal. But he beats me to it.

"This has to end, I'm sick of you and everything about you," Colton says. Ouch. At least I was going to make an effort to be somewhat nice about it. "You're not good for me, you irritate me and your stubbornness makes me borderline insane," okay take more hits then. "I have tried with you time and time again but you're just too much. You make me irrational and it's hard to think straight around you," anger and rage is all I can feel for this man standing in front of me.

"Bullcrap," I cross my arms. He stares at me, confused. "I agree with you on the part where we should stay the hell away from each other but don't try and make yourself the victim here. Don't tell me that you've "tried and tried" when you haven't done jack. If by you "trying" you mean putting a knife to my neck, calling me a whore, constantly pushing me around, strangling me, then well... you deserve a bloody award," I feel like there is no filter on me and the words just keep gushing out.

"Yeah we have both been crappy to each other and I'll admit I haven't made the best of choices but don't start trying to make me feel guilty and like I should pity you because I most certainly don't. So now that's out of the way, if you would ever so kindly get the hell out it would be much appreciated," I add a sweet smile at the end and he just looks at me with complete shock. The shock is quickly wiped clear and he gives me one last glare before storming out and slamming the door behind him. I'm sure I heard him mutter a few curse words in my direction but I'm glad I got my point across.