Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

of my fingers and toes are tingling to life and I have to bite
back the shiver aching to rock my frame.
“Juliette,” he whispers, and I realize just how close he is.
I’m not sure why I haven’t evaporated into nothingness. “It’s
been me and you against the world forever,” he says. “It’s
always been that way. It’s my fault I took so long to do
something about it.”
“No.” I’m shaking my head. “It’s not your fault—”
“It is. I fell in love with you a long time ago. I just never
had the guts to act on it.”
“Because I could’ve killed you.”
He laughs a quiet laugh. “Because I didn’t think I deserved
you.”
I’m one piece of astonishment forged into being. “What?”
He touches his nose to mine. Leans into my neck. Wraps a
piece of my hair around his fingers and I can’t I can’t I can’t
breathe. “You’re so . . . good,” he whispers.
“But my hands—”
“Have never done anything to hurt anyone.”
I’m about to protest when he corrects himself. “Not on
purpose.” He leans back. I can just barely see him rubbing
the side of his neck. “You never fought back,” he says after
a moment. “I always wondered why. You never yelled or got
angry or tried to say anything to anyone,” he says, and I
know we’re both back in third fourth fifth sixth seventh
eighth ninth grade all over again. “But damn, you must’ve
read a million books.” I know he’s smiling when he says it. A
pause. “You bothered no one, but you were a moving target
every day. You could’ve fought back. You could’ve hurt
everyone if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” My voice is less than a
whisper. I can’t get the image of 8-year-old Adam out of my
head. Lying on the floor. Broken. Abandoned. Crying into the
dirt.
The things people will do for power.
“That’s why you’ll never be what Warner wants you to be.”