“Get in.” She tries to run away, but I catch her by the waist and tug her back to me. “Not so fast, Stray.” Her loathing for me is practically rolling off her in waves as she kicks her legs. Grinding my molars, I grip the collar of her white button-down shirt and shove her against the jeep. “I gave you a choice.” I tried so fucking hard to get her to trust me enough to be honest with me. But she failed. Ergo, that shit is on her, not me. “I hate you.” She spits in my face as another sob escapes her. “I hate you.” She doesn’t hate me…she hates herself. She hates what she did. She hates
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