The idea almost made me drop the gun, but I couldn’t. I didn’t mean anything to him. I was a chess piece. And I couldn’t survive being played anymore. “Please, Ronan—” “Don’t say my fucking name.” I flinched. “I won’t,” I promised. “You won’t even have to see me again. Just let me go.” There was nothing but my tears and silence for a second—this massive void of silence that would devastate anything alive. And then he called my bluff. He moved toward me, closing the distance so quickly I jumped back a step, and that was when my clammy finger slipped on the trigger. Click.
