The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 316

Petty’s hair clung to her temples with sweat. Her lips were swollen, and the torn dress hung slack around her shoulders, doing nothing to hide the red marks scattered over her chest. Everything between them should have been hot and electric, but her cold words, along with the sticky blood coating her palm, obliterated the last traces of tension in the car.

“What did you do?” Franco’s voice was harsh.

Whatever heat had flickered in his eyes vanished, swallowed up by the darkness. Only a faint flush near his eyes suggested any of the desire from just moments ago. The metallic tang of blood grew thick in the confined air, crawling along his skin like tiny ants.

He caught her bleeding hand and noticed the Swiss Army knife still clenched in the other. When he saw the blood smeared on the blade, his eyes narrowed.

She really went this far, just to keep her head clear.

She’d rather hurt herself than let him touch her.

Fury wiped away the last hint of longing from Franco’s face, leaving only icy anger. He pried the knife from her hand and hurled it at the door. It struck hard and dropped to the floor with a heavy clatter.

“You hate it that much, having me touch you?”

“Yes.” Her answer was so calm, so casual, as if he really was just some tool she’d picked at random to burn through her need.

With the knife gone, her hand trembled in the empty air. She gripped the loose edge of her dress, tugging it back up to hide herself completely.

That unwavering answer made Franco’s face turn even darker, like a thunderstorm bearing down. He grabbed her bleeding wrist, ripped a piece from her skirt, and wrapped it around her palm.

Petty’s voice came out soft and flat, barely above a whisper, but perfectly clear in the tense silence. “I thought it was someone else… kissing me, touching me, trying to help. If I’d known it was you, I’d rather die.”

“Petty!” Franco sounded sharp, almost panicked, cutting her off.

His gaze met hers. Though her eyes burned red from the effects of the drug, there was no warmth in them at all. He squeezed her fingers, the same ones that had just wrapped around the knife, his hands cold and unyielding.

“Who did you think it was?” His words were like ice.

Franco tensed, wrapping his arm around her head and pressing her close, his other hand holding her tighter than ever. Her breathing was so faint it felt almost unreal, as if she might slip away completely.

His grip tightened until his knuckles whitened. He refused to let her go.

...

When Petty finally opened her eyes, night had settled in. She lay in a hospital bed, and Hans sat close by, not taking his eyes off of her for a second. The first thing she saw was his face, filled with worry.

“Hans...”

Why did you come looking for me again...

But before she could finish her thought, Hans interrupted, his voice soft but direct. “Still want a man now?”