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

And he’s unnecessarily encouraged.
Warner lifts me by the waist, hoists me up against the wall,
his hands cupping my backside, forcing my legs to wrap
around him. He doesn’t realize he’s given me the perfect
angle to reach into his coat.
His lips find my lips, his hands slip under my shirt and he’s
breathing hard, tightening his grip around me, and I
practically rip open his jacket in desperation. I can’t let this
go on much longer. I have no idea how far Warner wants to
push things, but I can’t keep encouraging his insanity.
I need him to lean forward just an inch more—
My hands wrap around the gun.
I feel him freeze. Pull back. I watch his face phase through
frames of confusion/dread/anguish/horror/anger. He drops
me to the floor just as my fingers pull the trigger for the
very first time.
The power and strength of the weapon is disarming, the
sound so much louder than I anticipated. The reverberations
are vibrating through my ears and every pulse in my body.
It’s a sweet sort of music.
A small sort of victory.
Because this time the blood is not Adam’s.