They Keep Pulling Me Back In Mga Nobela at Kwento

My pulse quickened. "What are you saying?" He looked me straight in the eyes. "I'm saying..." "...someone walked back into this building today..." "...and returned the evidence." The realization hit me like ice water. Whoever had framed me... Wasn't finished yet. They were still watching us.

this and his body Making the members present gasp and step back. - You have a lot of nerve, to dare to come back after everything you have done in my kingdom, you dare to deceive the vigilance of my secretary and dare to enter my office, in a family meeting, in addition to acting arrogant, I'll give you three minutes to get out of here if beyond three minutes you're still here, I assure you that you'll never see the sun again said Caleb, angrily emphasizing each of his words

“It’s not pushing anymore.” “That’s good, right?” “No.” “Why not?” “Because it’s not trying to take control directly.” “Then what is it doing?” I close my eyes again. Carefully. Tracing the threads. Following the structure. Looking for the disturbance. And when I find it— My stomach drops. “It’s pulling back.” “Okay…?” “It’s not targeting me anymore.” Adrian frowns. “Then what’s it targeting?” I open my eyes. Slowly.

Every cell in my body is screaming at me to turn around, to run back, to— No! I curl into myself, arms wrapped around my middle, forcing the insane urge down. I'm not going back. I'm not running to someone who doesn't want me. Who made it clear I was just a mistake, an experiment. But the pulling sensation doesn't stop. It intensifies. Like there's a rope tied around my ribs, yanking me back toward that studio. Back toward him. “Stop,” I whisper to the empty room. “Please just stop.” But my body won't listen. It won't stop aching, stop demanding I go back.

He keeps me under and I start to feel like I am going to fucking die. My instinct is to reach out, grab on my bonds and they all flare up. I see them as they look at me as if on a screen in my head. I see they are shouting and trying to reach out to me but they are not here, I outstretch my arms but I am pinned down and I can feel myself fading away. And then I am pulled out. I am coughing, crying, and heaving out water from my mouth. “did it work?” I am shaking, distorted, and trying to get away from him as fast as I can but he attempts to pull me under again. I can't go through that again!

What makes him think that he can convince me to stay? I ignored him and just walked down the stairs. If he wants to create a scene with the boxes, I won’t let him. He held me back and begged me to stay, promising never to bother me again. Telling me he has lent his lessons and he will never try to bring this up ever again. When I still wouldn’t listen he grabbed the remote and played some videos from our highschool and college days, reminding me of how we used to be, how much we cared for each other.

“I’m breaking off.” Someone shouts my name behind me, Knox maybe, his voice sharp with warning, but I don’t slow down. I don’t even look back. The bond pulls again, a faint, panicked tug that feels like it might snap if I don’t follow it, and that’s all that matters.

I repeat, over and over, like maybe if I say it enough, time will go backwards. Inside the room, they're trying to bring him back. And out here…I’m falling apart. “Charge!” a voice echoes faintly through the door. A sharp sound follows. My breath catches. “No…” I whisper, shaking my head. “Please… please don’t do this…” “Again!” Another shock. Another attempt. And I feel every second of it like it’s happening to me. “Come on, Lucas…” I whisper desperately. “You promised… you promised you wouldn’t leave me…”

I knew exactly what he was trying to do. He was trying to reopen old wounds and drag me back into something I had fought so hard to escape. I wasn’t going to let him, not again. “Max…” “Stop,” I snapped, taking a step back as he tried to move closer. The distance between us felt necessary. “You don’t get to do this,” I continued, my voice rising slightly. “You don’t get to show up after three years and act like we can just talk things out.” “I’m not acting like that,” he shot back, frustration creeping into his tone now. “I just want five minutes…”

I’m starting to get whiplash from the constant push and pull between Brock and me. While playing this game with the king of indecision is exhausting, there’s just something about Brock that keeps pulling me back in. Maybe it’s because when I see broken things, I want to fix them. Maybe I’m just a glutton for punishment. Or maybe my intuition’s right- we’re supposed to be something to each other, and this is the universe’s way of throwing us together over and over to make sure that happens. Whatever it is, if that steamy make-out session in the woods last night is any indication, then I feel like the roller coaster ride he’s taking me on will be worth it.