Chapter 42

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Nate's grip tightened around my hand, and my heart raced with a mix of fear and anger. Each step we took felt like a struggle against his strong pull, the stairs becoming a path of resistance and tension. The weight of his anger bore down on me, and I fought to hold back my tears, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing my vulnerability. With each step, my body felt like a puppet, reluctantly moving to his will, and the ache in my hand matched the ache in my chest.

We passed by a gaping Emma, standing in her pyjamas at the landing. She looked confused at what was happening, with a small toilet bag in her hand that was close to falling out her grip. She just about caught it but we had passed her then, and my name died out on her lips.

I let Nate drag us back in the room. He pulled me in and slammed the door. The sound vibrates off the thin walls, and the walls almost bent in the abuse it just suffered.

"You think I want to be violated like that again?" I asked Nate, my voice quivering as tears spilled down my cheeks. The weight of vulnerability hung heavy in the air.

"You sure seem like it," he spat, his anger palpable in every word.

"Do you really think I'm that twisted? That I would want to go through that all over again?" My voice trembled with a mix of hurt and frustration.

"Then explain to me why you think it's a good idea to go back there?" His words were laced with disbelief and resentment.

"I don't think I want to do that. But the one person I expected to support me just stomped all over me," I retorted, my anger slowly starting to replace my initial upset.

Nate's response was a humorless scoff. "Stop acting like some heroic person. You go there, and you might as well dig your own grave. They will kill you."

"I'm not some weak person. I know ways in there," I shot back, determination seeping into my voice.

"What? Through the side door hidden by that pretentious foliage, leading to the shoe storage closet. Then through there, you find a cellar, so you go down the stairs, and then you-"

His words hit me like a wave, and I blanched at the new revelation. He knew another way in? "How do you know about this?"

Nate's gaze turned solemn as he revealed a truth I wasn't prepared for. "I've studied your whole house, Ellie. I've been in there more times than you can count."

"Before or after you've known me?" My voice shook with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

He didn't answer immediately, his angry eyes locked onto mine. But behind the anger, there was something else, something akin to fear.

"Before or after me?" I repeated, my voice growing stronger as I sought an answer.

He remained silent, leaving the question hanging in the tense air between us
"Before or after me?" I screamed, rushing towards him until our faces were inches apart.

His chest heaved, but he remained resolutely silent. His lack of words spoke volumes, as if the truth was emblazoned across his skin.

"You disgust me. Your lies and everything else you claim to be is so disgusting I can't even stand to be near you," I seethed, my anger almost a palpable force between us. Stepping back several paces, I struggled to find an outlet for the searing rage coursing through my veins, and he became its unwitting target.

"Anything else you want to reveal to me? Or will tomorrow be a better time?" I asked sarcastically, the bitterness of my emotions dripping from every word. The intensity of my anger was overwhelming, and the sight of him seemed like the perfect focal point.

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