Kiel
I just stared at her. The words she'd thrown at me hung between us like smoke after an explosion—choking, impossible to ignore. My mind caught on them like they were barbed wire, and for a second, I wasn't even sure I'd heard her right.
"Where the hell did you get that from?" I demanded. My voice came out sharper than I meant, cutting through the air like a whip, but there was no way to soften it now.
Josie laughed. Not a real laugh—there was no warmth in it, no curve of amusement in her mouth or eyes. It was the kind of laugh you gave someone you couldn't stand, one that was sharper than glass and meant to cut. It was short, biting, and full of contempt.
"The only thing I need from you," she said, every word like a drop of acid eating through steel, "is for you to leave. I really can't stand the way you act towards me anymore."
