Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“You’re helping me,” I pointed out. “I appreciate it.”
We met yesterday about her and Michael sponsoring a
performance, and it wasn’t much, but it was a path to get out
on my own. They’d get their money back with ticket sales—if
I were fortunate enough to have any—and whatever was left
we’d split as profit. But she’d called earlier today with more
ideas, including a tour. Maybe scouting other performers who
weren’t getting seen. She was really into it, and it was nice to
have another person excited for my dancing. Other than
Damon…
“You look a little dangerous,” she mused. “Like you’ve got
ideas.”
“For the tour or for my sister’s husband?”
She snorted. “Whichever one you have that look to kill
for.”
“I hate him,” I said, pulling down the sleeves of my little
jacket. “I hate what he did to me. He deserved his
punishment.”
He deserved to go to jail.
“But?” she pressed.
But my weak heart kept thinking about what he said in bed
two nights ago when I’d held the blades to his rib and neck.
About lying to me being the only way he felt he could get
close to me in high school. Maybe it was just a lie he fed my
mother to get rid of her.
Or maybe it wasn’t. It didn’t make it right, though.
“There were so many moments back then—” I told her,
“—they felt real, like he could’ve been different and I
could’ve been different.”
He seduced me with a lie. Why was I having any doubts
about the man he was?
“I do hate him,” I told her. “I just wish I hated him every
second.”