Destroy Me Gently:Ex-Enemy Becomes My Lover!
Chapter 28: A burning picture

Chapter 28: A burning picture

Chapter Twenty Eight

**Oliver West**

That box contained everything... all he’d ever given me over our childhood days. I just hadn’t been able to let go of it. I hadn’t been able to let go of those good memories. I knew I was still living in the past, but it wasn’t as though the present retained any pleasant things for me.

The last time Pumpkin had spilled its contents, I had been careless to store it inside my drawer without locking it up. But who would have thought Kieran Morrison would pay a visit to my house?

"Don’t touch it!" I cried, jerking it away from his hands.

"Haven’t you heard about privacy! You can’t just barge in here and do things!" I yelled out again.

The moment I met that stormy gaze, my newfound courage fled.

I swallowed the large lump that enclosed my throat.

He looked enraged, but I refused to back down. These were still my things. He couldn’t just snoop around, and especially not with this box that was now clenched tightly in my arms.

"You should l-leave," I faltered as I spoke the sentence. He looked even more visibly enraged.

My face paled as he charged toward me, completing the distance between us in just a single stride.

"You seem to be forgetting your position. You have no fucking right to tell me what to do. Don’t forget those nudes of yours are still in my hands."

His words were like a slap across my face. I should have known it would come to this sooner or later.

Who knows if he had seen them, or worse, showed it to his friends. Maybe they all had a good time laughing at me. The thought made my stomach coil up with revulsion. The corners of my eyes prickled. Why were all these happening to me? Why did I become the person Kieran despised?

"Did you show everyone? Did you see it!" I asked, tilting my blurry gaze to his. If I expected to see remorse or compassion in his gaze, then it would have been a complete joke on me.

His features were hard as granite as he stepped into my personal space, obstructing my supply of air.

"You reacted so violently. Now I want to see what is inside. You’ll show me, right pet?" He spoke casually, but the edge to his tone was anything but. His hand reached out to ruffle my hair, but I flinched away from his touch.

"No," I mustered the courage to glare up at him in defiance.

We were so close. I could feel the heat radiating from his tensed muscles. His fingers were clenched tight. Was he going to strike me? That was something he had never done before, but showing up at my house was something he had also not done before.

"I said give it, Ollie. I won’t say it again," he clenched out the warning.

He stood at the very edge of hurting me. I should just comply before he forced me to it, but a tiny and insane part of me wanted to see how far and hard he would go when he finally snapped out of constraint.

"No, I won’t, Kieran," I bit out even harder. The moment the words tore out from my lips, I knew he was going to make me regret it.

A part of me had expected him to hit me or even shove me around. I didn’t expect him to chuckle aloud at my resistance.

I squinted my gaze in confusion. That was until I found out he planned another method of torture.

"You are finally rebelling. Let’s see for how long you’ll manage to keep up with it."

I didn’t get enough time to guess his intentions. He abruptly lunged toward me, hauling me to his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. The box slipped from my hands and fell straight to the floor, scattering the contents inside it.

A scream escaped my mouth when he tossed me on top of the bed. I didn’t get enough time to catch my breath when he straddled me down with his weight.

My heart thundered furiously. I wanted to beg for him to stop. The gleam in his gaze showed that he was thoroughly enjoying this, putting me where he thinks I belonged.

"W-what are you doing!" I stammered, wriggling beneath him in an attempt to break free.

"I want to gain further experience and see what a gay feels like," he snapped, snatching my arms and pinning them high above my head. "What do you think is about to happen? Surely you aren’t so fucking dumb, are you?"

Panic kicked in at the seriousness of the situation. I started thrashing furiously beneath him.

"Kieran p-please let go! You s-said I d-don’t have anything w-worth looking at!" I cried out, tossing my head side to side the moment he inched his head closer.

"With these clothes on, no. How about I take them off and discover for myself?"

My gaze widened in frantic terror when his lips brushed the sides of my neck, spreading goosebumps all over. He dipped his finger inside my shirt to toy with my belly button. It was slowly inching closer to my...

"What do you w-want! I’ll give you everything, just stop this! Pleaseeeee!" I was begging shamelessly now, but I didn’t care.

He was getting more crazy and psychotic with each passing day. I wasn’t going to find out if he was only bluffing.

He didn’t stop. My sobs got even louder when he buried his face in my hair, his scorching palm still caressing my exposed stomach area.

"Stop it p-please," I pounded against his shoulders furiously.

He inched back a little, so he could stare into my tear-streaked face. I couldn’t read his gaze, but I hoped whatever he saw in mine would make him stop.

His lips curved into a sneer. The look of scorn and disdain on his face had never pleased me as much as it did at this moment. I wanted him to find me repulsive.

He pushed away from me in that instant and straightened the crease that had formed in his clothes.

"I would never sink as low as to screw trashy things like you," he glared at my shaky form on the bed.

"Don’t defy me. I will enjoy making everything worse for you until you—"

Much to my relief, he started to leave, but then he stopped midway.

I didn’t have to ponder for long the reason for his sudden halt. His intent stare was focused on the floor beneath. His gaze whipped to me in that instant, slashing me across like a belt to my skin.

A strangled sound escaped my throat when he straightened down to entangle a photograph between his fingers. It was my favorite one that contained the three of us.

He stared as though transfixed for a moment. His jaw ticked once, then twice as he crumpled it in his clenched fist. His gaze snapped toward me once again.

"Why the hell do you have this!" His voice tore out rough and filled with anguish.

He was going to destroy them!

I leaped off the bed in that instant even as he withdrew a cigarette lighter from his pocket. Did he plan to burn everything right here in my room?

"Kieran stop!" I screamed, tugging onto his arms.

"No please, don’t do it! Besides these are mine!" He swapped away my grip like I was no more than a nuisance.

I’ve treasured those for so many years. I couldn’t lose it.

"Why? So you would remember the girl you killed or how you fucking changed my entire life! You don’t fucking deserve any of these!"

With that he turned the lighter on the photo. The fire spread quickly and he allowed it to fall on the bare floor.

"No!" I sobbed aloud. It wasn’t the picture burning, it was my heart. Without it I won’t have anything to remember Ginny. How could he be so cruel to rob even this from me?

Without giving it a thought, I lunged toward it, using my bare hands to put off the fire.

"Have you gone fucking crazy!" I heard him howl from behind me. Soon fingers tore the half-burnt picture from my hand.

He yanked me up to my feet, snatching my hand to his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" He yelled again.

"No, what is wrong with you, Kieran? You hate me, but that was your sister’s photograph with us! How could you be so unfeeling toward her and to me!" I screamed, pounding my free hand against his shoulders.

"Why must you do a stupid thing like this? It was all a mistake. I didn’t kill her. It wasn’t me," I sobbed. Memories and emotions threatened to choke and tear me up.

He let go of my hand abruptly as though it had scorched him.

I staggered two steps backward.

"You still won’t admit that. She died only because of your words. Why did you lie to me that day? Why!"

His words speared through my heart like knives. I sniffed aloud, wiping my face with the back of my sleeves.

"Do you honestly think that I lied? Or perhaps you want to keep on telling yourself that? You don’t hate me, do you? If you do hate me as you say, then why do you hold yourself back from hurting me each time? Do you want someone else to share your pain? Is that why you keep hurting me?" All these questions spurted free. It had been bottled inside for so long.

We had a long stare.

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t accept it either. After a long session of silence, he stormed off, slamming the door closed after him.

A choked laugh accompanied by a sob escaped my throat.

Whether I was right or wrong, does it change anything?

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