There’s no use arguing with him. He’s upset and lashing out.

Which means he can’t see past his own tunnel vision.

“I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, his dark eyes glistening with tears. “That’s the thing, Bourne. I don’t think you are.” Anger illuminates his features. “God, I let you inside my head…inside my heart. You were nothing but a poisonous, worthless cunt who deserved to die…but I craved you. Goddammit, I fucking craved you.” He grips my chin forcefully. “And then I got you…and you sucked the life out of me until you broke me.”

My chest sinks with remorse. Watching him unravel like this hurts far worse than I expected it to.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I whisper. “I care—

“No, you don’t.” He jabs his head with his pointer finger. “You don’t fucking care about me.”

“Yes—”

Words die in my throat when he pulls a knife out of his pocket. “Then prove it.” He holds the blade up to his jugular. “Prove it or I’ll slit my goddamn throat and end it.”

My stomach cramps up and the room starts spinning.

He’s found my Achilles’ heel.

Because he knows the thought of losing another person I care about to suicide would utterly destroy me, and I’ll do literally anything to prevent that from happening.

“Stone,” I say slowly. “Please, put the knife down. Harming yourself isn’t the answer. You have people who love you. People who care—”

“Prove you’re still one of them.” He presses the blade deeper against his skin, challenging me. “Or else.”

I know enough about psychology to know there’s a certain approach you have to take with someone who’s reached their breaking point.

Right now, he needs to feel like he’s in control.

That he’s not losing everything.

That his life didn’t end just because our relationship did.

“What do you need?”

His answer is automatic. “I need you to call that piece of shit and end it with him for good.” His nostrils flare. “Right fucking now.”

I look down at the phone in my hand. “Okay. I can do that.”

I start to dial 911, hoping they’ll overhear our conversation and send help, but Stone’s already onto me.

“Goodbye, Bi—”

“No,” I quickly say. “I’ll do it.”

“Tell him we’re eloping tonight,” he demands. “That you made a mistake and can’t be with a killer.”

For a moment, I honestly consider not doing what he wants because the thought of saying that to the man I love is…

A shudder rolls through me.

Stone’s sick and he needs help.

After I get him that help, I can explain everything to Oakley.

Oakley picks up after the second ring. “Hey.”

I force myself to remain detached and unaffected because Stone’s eyeing me like a hawk. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Oakley sounds so confused, it breaks my heart. “What—”

I don’t let him get a word in because it will only make it hurt worse. “I can’t…I’m in love with Stone. What happened between us was a mistake.”

I can hear his sharp inhale of breath over the extension. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do.” I try to ignore the way my heart pinches. “But even if I didn’t love Stone, I can’t be with a killer.”

Oakley goes silent.

Stone narrows his eyes, urging me to say the rest.

“We’re eloping tonight, putting everything behind us and starting fresh. Please don’t contact me again, Oak.”

With those parting words, I hang up.

“Is that good enough—”

The knife Stone was holding falls to the floor and his hand wraps around my throat and squeezes.

I barely have time to register what’s happening before his fist goes flying into my mouth.

Everything inside me shatters.

It’s almost a surreal, out-of-body experience. As if my brain doesn’t want to accept the fact that in the blink of an eye, I just became the girl whose fiancé punched her.

Correction—ex-fiancé.

Shame snakes up my spine.

There was a time when he used to give me butterflies…but now all I see are the warning signs I’ve excused.

Like his need to control my every move, the way he ridiculed my outfits, how he’d screw me while I was sleeping…or pinch my thigh when I said the wrong thing in front of his friends.

The first time he called me a slut.

And the last time he tried to control me by mistaking my kindness for weakness just so he could manipulate me.

Because he sure as fuck won’t get a chance to do it again.

God, the fact that he actually thought I was the kind of girl he could do this to is revolting.

Because I’m sure as hell fucking not.

Wiping the blood trickling from my mouth, I glare at him. “Did you enjoy that?”

He tries to say something, but I don’t give him the chance.

I kick him in the balls so hard he yelps and crouches over.

I snatch a fistful of his hair, because I want him to look me in the eyes when I say this. “I really hope you did, because that’s the first and last time you ever fucking put your hands on me.” Snickering, I add, “On second thought, that baby dick of yours probably didn’t get the full message.” I strike him in the balls again and he howls. “Did you feel that, bitch? Or do I need to get a magnifying glass and burn it—”

The sound of my door flying open cuts me off.

Oakley storms into the room like a hurricane. He quickly scans the scene, his hard stare darting from Stone to me.

His gaze narrows on my mouth, and then all hell breaks loose.

His voice is a lethal low rasp, shaking me to the core. “I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

That’s the only warning Stone gets before Oakley pushes me out of the way and charges him.

The only thing I can hear over my erratic pulse is the sound of Oakley’s fist flying into Stone’s face repeatedly, as if it’s his own personal punching bag.

They grapple for a moment, but Stone has nothing on Oakley and it’s not long before Oakley has him pinned to the ground.

Shifting so he’s on top of him, one hand wraps around his throat while the other continues taking jabs at Stone’s bloody face.

Stone tries to get some leeway, but it’s impossible because Oakley’s strikes are filled with so much venom, I can practically taste it.

And then I realize, Oakley wasn’t kidding before…he’s actually going to kill him.

Oakley halts his movements momentarily, but only so he can snatch Stone’s arm and bend it at an abnormal angle.

Seconds later, the sharp snap of bone assaults my ears. It’s immediately followed by the sound of Stone screeching in pain.

“Oakley, stop,” I scream.

Not because I give a fuck about Stone, but the last thing I want is for Oakley to go back to jail.

It’s like he doesn’t even hear me.

He goes back to punching him with so much vigor I’m surprised Stone’s still breathing.