Resent, Reject, Regret

Resent, Reject, Regret By Aqua Summers Chapter 45

Chapter 45 Who Do You Think You Are?

Strewn into their mockery was a thinly-veiled accusation: It was all Deirdre’s fault.

How could they be so cruel? She was just as much of a human as they were. She was not an emotionless plaything ! Why must she obey Brendan’s every whim? Because she had been unfortunate enough to become the Devil’s object of obsession ? Because she deserved to be punished for saying yes to becoming Mrs. Brighthall?

Deirdre’s pain was consuming her from within. She seemed to have depleted her entire supply of tears, and now all there was left in her eyes was a bottomless void threatening to swallow her sense of self.

Then, she remembered. Sterling was about to be beaten by a violent mob.

Fingers trembling, she thought of Brendan’s habit and felt her way to the bottom of the driver’s seat. Then, she pulled out a knife.

She turned its pointy edge toward her neck.

The bodyguards jumped and panicked. “What the hell are you doing?! Get that thing away from you!” They cried, yanking the car door open.

“Get away from me!” Deirdre shouted, digging it close to

her skin. She drew a line, and blood poured like a drawn curtain. She might have lost her sight, but her hollow

eyes managed to conjure the ferocity of cornered prey she looked as though she would severe her own throat if they came any closer.

The car was too small for two burly men to snatch the knife from her before she could act.

Gritting her teeth, Deirdre snarled, “Tell them to stop, now. And tell Brendan to come back here.”

The bodyguards’ faces turned white. If they f*cked this up … God, there would not be any corpses in the caskets during their eventual funerals! “Alright, princess! You stay right here and don’t let that knife slip the wrong way, you hear me? I’m gonna get Mr. Brighthall now! Don’t move!” Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

He bolted away to summon his boss immediately. Brendan practically rushed to the car, and it did not take him long to see Deirdre holding a knife to her neck, her collar stained red.

Rage possessed him. “What the f*ck, McKinnon?! How suicidal are you?!” he shrieked, his body trembling. The cut she had made was deep-and yet she looked like she did not give a damn about herself. All she cared about was weaponizing her life against him!

Deirdre’s lips were devoid of color, and her eyes were red. “Let Sterling go, Brendan. The thing between us is long

over. You let him go and I’ll go with you. And then, if it pleases you, I’ll die at your command!” The knife quivered as her lips moved, deepening the cut. Brendan’s eyes were beet -red, but finally, he howled,” Fine! Fine!” He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and turned to one of his bodyguards. “Stop f*cking standing there like an idiot and tell them to release that bastard! Then tell that piece of sh*t to get the f*ck out of here!”

The bodyguard ran away. Deirdre’s eyelashes fluttered.

Suddenly, she felt her strength fading away from her fingers. The knife fell out of her hands. It had barely landed on the seat when Brendan lurched into the car, his hands gripping her collar, and bellowed hysterically,” You want to die so much, Deirdre McKinnon?! If that’s what you want, I’ll make

sure you die! You’ll die for that f *cking Sterling – that’s how worthless and cheap your life is, isn’t it?! How dare you threaten me with your life? How dare you?!”

Deirdre’s eyes watered. Her body had been tense throughout the standoff, but now that it was over, she relaxed and realized how much her neck hurt.

It was bad. It was as if her blood was too happy to leave her and would do so in droves if she sighed. Every drop of the outpouring blood was taking away a little bit of her life, and dying was a far more excruciating process than she had imagined.

Deirdre regretted nothing. It was the only thing she could have done. She knew that, given Brendan’s proclivity for extremities, Sterling would have ended up bedridden for more than a month and still would not be able to get up.

“You don’t u-understand a t-thing, Brendan,” she whispered raspily. “I can’t … cause him more pain. He’s. lost so much… because of me… over one year alone. I… I owe him my life. I will… gladly die… for your a amusement if it means you… won’t harm h-him anymore

It hurt so much that her face was white as a sheet.

“Shut the f*ck up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Brendan yelled. He pressed his hand against her neck, fumbling to stop the flow, and bellowed at the bodyguard to just drive already. The bodyguard was taken aback. He had never seen his boss so apoplectic before. There was no time to dawdle. He got into the driving seat and took them to the nearest hospital.