TATE
I STORMED OUT, slamming the door behind me so hard the frame rattled, but it didn’t stop the shaking in my chest. My legs kept moving even though I didn’t know where the f**k I was going—just away, away from him, away from the way my throat still burned with his words.
You’re just a body.
God, it wouldn’t leave my head. The way he’d said it, like I was nothing more than trash he’d decided not to throw out yet. My skin crawled, my gut twisted, but the worst part—the part I hated the most—was that it hurt. It f*****g hurt.
Why the hell did it hurt?
I should’ve laughed, spit in his face, told him good, keep thinking that, makes it easier for me to stab you in your goddamn sleep one of these nights. But instead, I’d walked away like some wounded i***t, heat still crawling up my neck,
