August kept his pace, his grip on her firm while dragging her out of the house to the driveway.
Once they were out of the house, he liberated her from his clutch. Ailynn looked at her arm which had red imprints caused by his strong grasp on her.
"What the hell was that?" Ailynn yelled, feeling violated by his actions.
"What are you doing here?" August calmly questioned ignoring hers.
"Why should I even tell you?" Ailynn angrily retorted, rubbing her arms.
This time neither he was upset nor disappointed in her anymore. He came to accept she was nothing he imagined her to be. She was the snake he fed, can't blame her now that it's showing its fangs at him.
Instead of going furious, he cracked up into a laugh thinking about all the signs from the time they met. Murder has a pattern, it always does. When a murderer is cold-blooded like her, patterns are inevitable. He was too blinded by a thing called love to see it before. Now he does and it's cruel.
