Between Violence and You

Between Violence and You

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WpMetadataReadOngoing<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Jan 27, 2025
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Fiction
Romance
She was never supposed to see him kill. He was never supposed to let her live. Now she's trapped in the house of a vigilante-one who believes bad people deserve to die, and witnesses deserve silence. But she's not scared. She's sharp-mouthed, stubborn, and refuses to break. He's violence. She's defiance. And somewhere between threats, fights, and stolen moments, lines begin to blur. Because the most dangerous thing isn't that she knows his secret-it's that he's starting to choose her over the blood on his hands.
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#91
kilig
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"Have I...?" He whispered again, fragile in a way that made my stomach twist, made my pulse spike in my throat. "Ever fucking hit you?!" His voice rose, furious and raw, shaking the walls around us-and vibrating through me, like it could set me on fire from the inside out. I averted my eyes, shaking my head. No. "Then why do you always cover away in fear when I get too close? Why do you expect me to hurt you when I've never laid my hands on you?" His teeth were clenched, jaw tight, yet there was something more in his voice than anger-something human, something unbearably close, like it was threading into my blood, my skin, my pulse. He was right. And I knew it. I wasn't afraid of him. Not really. Hell, I deserved punishment-for the blood on my hands, for the lives I'd shattered, for the guilt that clung to me like a second skin. Dany. The other half of me haunted me, her little face, her little voice, the promise of vengeance twisting through my veins. My vendetta came first. It had to. Every step, every decision, every second-I couldn't let him know who I truly was. Not yet. If he did I would never be free. And sooner or later, I had to go.

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