chapter thirty
**Kieran Morrison**
'You don't really hate me…'
'You only need someone to share your grief…'
The words kept blaring and tearing down the last of my sanity. They just wouldn't stop echoing in my head no matter how hard I tried to quiet them.
"Shut up!" I growled aloud to bring an end to it.
He had been fucking wrong! I hated him more than anything he could ever imagine. How dare he assume my feelings?
'Then why haven't you really hurt me all these years?' his soft whisper taunted my mind and a harsh heavy pants escaped my nostrils. I dug my nails tightly into my palms, threatening to pierce the skin until blood came. It was a minor distraction from the conflicted feelings which I didn't want to recognize, but they kept simmering in my veins.
I needed something much stronger. I searched my drawer for a cigarette. A smoke was what I really needed right now.
Fuck. It was empty.
