Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 3

The kiss was fueled by years of pent-up resentment, his lips grinding against hers in a brutal, bruising assault.

The metallic taste of blood blossomed in her mouth, though she couldn't tell which of them was bleeding.-

In a daze, she was pulled back to a summer night six years ago. After their clumsy, tender first time, he had pulled her into his arms and whispered against her ear, "Wills, I only want you for the rest of my life."

But a lifetime turned out to be far too short.

Promises meant absolutely nothing.

His ruthless assault now felt like a knife carving into her nerves, bringing a stinging heat to her eyes.

Wrenching her head to the side, she broke free and swung her hand hard across his face.

Randal's head snapped to the side, a stark red mark rapidly blooming on his cheek.

Time seemed to freeze for a few agonizing seconds.

He slowly turned back, pressing his tongue against the inside of his struck cheek, before letting out a laugh even more reckless than before.

"Can't handle this?" He reached up, his thumb wiping a streak of blood from the corner of her lips. "Willa, you were a hell of a lot more ruthless when you dumped me."

Willa couldn't stop trembling. "You're a psycho."

"Yeah, I'm a psycho. Didn't you already know that?"

He took a step back, putting a fraction of distance between them. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, placed one between his lips, and lit it.

The lighter's flame flickered in the night breeze before steadying, illuminating the hollow emptiness in his eyes.

He took a deep drag and exhaled slowly, the pale smoke obscuring half of his face.

Willa stared at him in a daze, suddenly feeling like she was looking at a stranger.

The Randal in her memories had never smoked.

What exactly had he been through these past five years?

She didn't dare dwell on it. Turning abruptly, she stumbled away, but after a few steps, she felt compelled to look back.

Randal was still standing exactly where she left him, his head tilted slightly back, casting a lonely, rigid silhouette.

The ash on his cigarette grew dangerously long before tumbling onto the jagged scar on his hand, yet he didn't even seem to notice.

Willa averted her eyes and hurried back inside.

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