“I’m in a position to hurt you now, and I’m pissed enough to do it,” I spoke, my voice low. “But I won’t. This vendetta against me ends, now. You got your shot at me, you fucked it up. If you’re still mad at me, you fucking better cope, got it!?”
I love this. 😀
She snarled out two muffled words. I suspected they were rude.
Yeah, probably.
When I spoke next, I bent low and whispered the words for her and her alone, “When you’re tossing and turning and trying to sleep, remembering what I did and said here and getting pissed off about it? Remember that you were the weak one. You embarrassed yourself, fucked up, you were the weakling, the wuss who couldn’t even confront me face to face. And knowing you like I do? I’m betting it’s going to gnaw at you. That’s as much a punishment as I could inflict, I think. That’s on you, not me.
Hooooly shit, Taylor.
Holy shit.
You know who this is reminding me of? Sophia.
“You said it yourself, a while back. It’s a mistake to underestimate me. You want another shot at it, it had better be really damn good. Because if it isn’t, I’m going to survive, I’m going to get away. And then I might break your jaw for real. For starters.”
Just… holy shit.
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