Free Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) by Charles Hash Page B

well give up all hope of that.”
    “Ryan would have never called me that. Never,” she said, pulling her legs away from him and sitting up on the couch.
    “Why wouldn’t I call you by your name?” he asked, and then stressed hurriedly, “Your real name, do not forget.”
    “That’s not my name, and you know it,” she said angrily. Ryan stood up suddenly, towering over her.
    “It is your name. It has always been your name. It will always be your name,” he said coldly. “You will die with that name.” Rhylie looked up, shocked. She began to slide down the couch, away from him. He stepped forward, continuing to hover over her like a drunken lecher. She had never seen him behave like this, and she did not like it at all. She stood up hurriedly, gathering her emotions as best she could. She wasn’t going to allow herself to be bullied by a fabrication.
    “Fuck you,” she said to his face before turning to walk away from him.
    “Where are you going, bitch?” he asked as he grabbed a handful of her hair and wrenched it. Her hands went to his wrist as she tried to wrest herself free. It was like struggling against titanium bonds. She dug her nails into his flesh as best she could, but he wouldn’t relinquish his grip on her hair. Her ankles buckled and she almost went to her knees, but he held her there, firmly. “You don’t fucking talk to me like that, cunt.” His voice was cold and menacing, without a trace of emotion.
    He had suddenly changed to something dark and sinister. Violent. The Ryan she had known was nothing like this. He slung her backwards over the arm of the couch and she landed on her back, staring up at him. He moved to stand over her.
    “Don’t you fucking touch me! Don’t touch me!” she screamed as she kicked, lashing out at him. Ryan tilted his head and stared down at her with an intense gaze, warding off her kicks with his hands. He worked his jaw slowly. He reached out and grasped one of her ankles, holding it firmly in his grip.
    “You know what your problem is, Gota?” he asked. “You don’t appreciate anything. I have given you everything, the perfect life, perfect children. All you’ve ever dreamed of is right here at your fingertips. But you don’t appreciate any of it. You’re just a spoiled fucking child.”
    “It’s not fucking real!” she screamed back at him, pushing herself down the couch away from him, but his grip kept her ankle locked in place. “You’re not fucking real!”
    “I bleed,” he said. “I breathe. We make love. I eat, I sleep, I shit. I am as real as you.” He gave her a sickly smile. “In many ways, I am more real than you.” His fingers began digging into her ankle and she howled in pain. He released his grip on her.
    “That doesn’t make you real,” she said as she pulled herself to the far end of the couch and stood up. She maneuvered her way around until she was standing behind the couch. “You’ll never be real.” Her ankle really hurt, and she could barely put her weight on it. He was stronger than he should have been.
    “You’re a stupid little bitch,” Ryan said, coming after her. She turned and took off for the kitchen, limping as best she could. There were knives in the kitchen. Ryan had left one lying on the counter. She snatched it up and turned, holding it up between them. He stopped and threw his hands up, his expression changing.
    “C’mon baby, don’t be like that,” he said as he took a step back. “I was just playing around. We were just having a little fun, right?”
    “Fuck you,” she said as she flipped the knife around in her hand. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.”
    “C’mon baby, don’t say things like that. You know I love you,” he said. “I’ve always loved you.” She narrowed her eyes.
    “You are incapable of love. You fuck like a robot that has the motions programmed, but has no idea why it’s doing what it’s doing. You are just a fucking fabrication,” she said. She