Page 231 of Ruin My Life

And I’ll watch the rest of the world burn if it means she’s safe.

Chapter Forty-Two

Brie

“COME ON,BRIE.DO YOU REALLY WANTanother innocent life hanging over your head?” Connor says, crouched beside the woman who still isn’t moving. The one who looks too much like Amie—like the universe is mocking me with one final twist of the knife.

I force myself to breathe, to drag air through the fire in my chest and spine, to sit upright despite the agony burning through my bound limbs.

“This isn’t Damon’s mom’s house,” I say finally, my voice low but steady. “And I’m never going to tell you where it is.”

His eyes narrow, jaw ticking.

“Guess that makes you pretty fucking useless to me, then,” he mutters.

I nod once. Swallow the fear like poison.

“I guess it does,” I say. “So just kill me and let her live. She doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Connor straightens slowly, like he’s weighing it. Almost disappointed. “You’re right,” he says finally. “But now I’m also going to need a distraction.”

The blood drains from my face.

He turns without another word and stalks to the kitchen. I hear drawers slam. Boxes thunk to the floor. The hollow scrape of junk shifting—until something sloshes.

He pivots back, a bottle of lighter fluid clenched in his hand. A box of long matches tucked in the other. He’s grinning like a man who’s finally figured out how to win.

I thrash against the chair. My wrists scream as the zip ties bite deeper—but there’s a little give. Just enough. Mylegs, though, are locked tight. Trapped against the wood legs of the chair.

“Connor, don’t—”

He’s already moving, drizzling a trail of lighter fluid along the edge of the living room carpet, sweeping it up the baseboards, painting the far wall in toxic sheen. The sharp chemical scent stings my nose, my eyes.

“I’m sure your little wild goose chase bought Damon enough time to catch up to us,” he says lightly. “So now, I’ll give him a choice. Stay with mommy and die protecting her... or tell me where she is and try to save his precious little rose.”

My heart free-falls into my gut.

I know Damon. I know what he’ll choose.

And I know he’ll hate himself either way.

I can’t let him make that choice.

Connor is halfway down the hallway with the bottle when I force my voice out again. “Just tell me one thing.”

He pauses, half-turns back, the lighter fluid glugging against the plastic.

“Why go through all this?” I ask. “Why not just kill him yourself?”

He shrugs, like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “Simple. I want him to suffer the same way I’ve suffered. He took the last family I had left—and I want him to know what that feels like.”

“But he lost Isabella too,” I shoot back. “You know how much he blamed himself. You know he never forgave himself.”

Connor’s head whips toward me. Fury lights up his eyes, so bright it’s almost supernatural.

“It’s not the same!” he roars. “I want to see that hollow look in his eyes. I want him to wake up knowing there’snothingleft. No one left. Just revenge—rotting him alive. And then I’ll takethatfrom him too.”

He vanishes back into the kitchen. The sounds change—metal against metal.