"Jesse! Who gave you the courage to provoke me?" I hissed, my voice low and lethal.
Rory ruined me.
And they thought I'd let them live in peace after that?
No, I would haunt them.
I would cling to them like a shadow, never dying and never letting go.
"Ahhh, Cyrus! You madman! Let go of me! Or I swear, Rory will kill you!"
Jesse's forehead was a mess of blood and flesh. His eyes were red-rimmed, barely able to open.
If Rory hadn't arrived in time, he wouldn't have lasted a second longer.
Right then, I remembered the look on his face when she had dragged him away that day, crying, furious, and full of grievance.
I couldn't help but laugh.
Then, Rory's icy and piercing gaze cut into me.
She sneered, her tone low and threatening. "Cyrus, your time is running out. You'd better make your decision quickly."
When my parents were alive, no one dared threaten me.
People knew that I was a complete madman.
After my parents died, even fewer dared cross me.
"Rory," I said, voice low, deliberate, almost playful, "have I ever told you never to be too naive?"
Outside, the drizzle began, timed perfectly. Raindrops hit the car window, scattering into tiny ripples.