Tate doesn’t let up. Instead he slams a fist into James’ gut because this guy still isn’t getting it and nothing has the ability to piss him off more. He had once been willing to kill for Violet’s happiness. Now he wanted nothing more than to make her as alone as he was.Â
Get the fuck out and don’t come back.
James stumbles to the door. His lungs are thirsting for air and his throat is sore. James doesn't have any fight in him today and in a way he's disappointed in himself. He rubs his stomach gingerly and feels as if he might throw up. He looks back at Tate scornfully before he leaves.
We'll see about that.









