72| Awake

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Alyssa
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Fighting over a gun isn't like in the movies. It's exhausting and scary, and all I can think about as we wrestle on the floor is that this thing could go off, and that would be it; our lives would be changed forever.

Ruined.

Justin attempts to shove me away, struggling to restrain my arms, but I don't stop. I kick and punch, leveraging my weight to thwart his attempts because not getting that gun is not an option. Failure is not an option.

"Justin, stop," I snap as he grabs my shoulders, but one look at his red, contorted face tells me he can't hear me. He's lost in his thoughts, focused only on what his dad will think if he leaves this house without what he came for. And that's the problem, I realize. The shadow that's followed our entire relationship. None of this has ever been about us.

From the very beginning, Justin and I were pushed together because our parents were friends, and it made them happy. But nowhere in their scheme to create two family powerhouses did they ask what we wanted. Nobody cared, and when it comes to Justin, they still don't.

Ignoring the rapid pounding in my ears, I stop struggling to look at him. I could hit him right now if I wanted. I could lift my fist – the same one Max taught me to form – and deliver the meanest uppercut imaginable. But part of me, for whatever reason, still wants to get through to him, and the only way to do that is by talking.

"You're ruining your life," I say, searching his face, "and for what? A father who couldn't give a shit about you?"

"I know." He closes his eyes, and for a moment, I think I see something vulnerable in his expression. A second later, it's gone. "But he controls my trust fund, which means he controls my future."

"He controls your money," I say, glancing at the door. Any moment now, Max could walk in, and everything would devolve into chaos. "He doesn't control your future."

Something too adult-like flashes in Justin's expression, contrasting with his boyish features. "C'mon, Liss. You're smart enough to know they're one and the same."

I shake my head. The old me would have thought so. Once upon a time, money and appearance were the only things that mattered to me. They still would be if it weren't for Justin cheating on me. I'd have grown up just like my mother, stuck in an unhappy but comfortable relationship and spending copious amounts of money to fill the void instead of doing the things that make me happy.

"My house is literally a shell," I say, and for the first time all night, my voice doesn't shake. I feel strangely at ease. "My dad is on the run, and you're about to take the last valuable thing we own. And you know what? I have never felt more relieved than I do now because having that much money comes with strings, Justin. Right now, I'm free, and neither you, your dad, or my parents can use money to control me anymore. Can you say the same?"

He stares at me for the longest time. I hold my breath, waiting for that Eureka moment, where he looks at our situation and what he's doing, and common sense kicks in. But like an idiot, he doubles down.

"You think you're so superior," he says, shoving me away from him. I stumble a few steps before regaining my balance. "It wasn't long ago you were known as the biggest bitch in school, and now you want to pretend like you're taking some moral high ground? I know you, Liss – the real you, not this version you're playing. You're as bad, if not worse than I am, so don't stand there and act like you're fucking better than me."

He advances toward me, and something inside me snaps. All the pain and hurt he had caused me before erases any sympathy I might have had for him. I hit him with a quick one-two, followed by a right hook. He staggers back but doesn't fall, and I can no longer think about saving him, only about saving myself. I throw two punches to his stomach, but my third punch goes sailing over his shoulder, allowing him to land his own.

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