“You cut me because you know I’ll gladly bleed for you. So now I want to see you bleed for me.” I open my mouth, prepared to tell him that I already have, but before I can, he bends and grabs a long, gnarled twig off the ground, fisting it in his hand. Whatever I was going to say somersaults right back down my throat, and my heart stalls in my chest. “What are you going to do?” I ask hesitantly, eyeing the branch like he’s holding a gun.
I mean, we all know what he's about to do
