My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
You are reading My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate, Chapter 9: Chapter 9. Read more chapters of My Boyfriend’s Handsome Teammate.
The line went dead silent after my last words. For a brief moment, I thought I could hear muffled sobs on the other end.
"Fine." That single word sealed it—our love story was over.
How could he accept me like this? Hell, I couldn't even accept myself anymore.
Everywhere I went, whispers followed. My so-called friends, my classmates—none of them could look me in the eye. And now, I was one step away from getting kicked out of school.
My own parents couldn't bear the shame. They wanted nothing to do with me. I had become everything I swore I'd never be.
There were nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if it would be easier to just... end it all.
But no. Why should I be the one to suffer while the bastard who did this walked free?
Nathan Lowell deserved to burn.
I spent the entire night plotting, my thoughts twisting darker by the hour—until finally, I made my decision.
Even if I couldn't kill him, I'd make sure he never forgot me.
The next morning, I sent him a text—I'll give you whatever you want. Just take the video down.
Playing the broken victim, I got exactly what I expected—his demand: $50k. Transfer it, and it's gone.
A cold smirk tugged at my lips as I typed my reply—Fine. But we do this face to face.
After a long pause, he sent an address. Tomorrow. 3 PM.
Some rundown apartment complex in the middle of nowhere—probably his rat hole.
I emptied my bank account, stuffing every last dollar into a briefcase. Then I hit the market—Taser X2, Swiss Army Knife, and just for good measure, a can of gasoline.
That night, I slept like a baby. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. Or maybe it was the peace of knowing I had nothing left to lose.
The next day, I showed up ready for war.
The building was a death trap—no fire exits, dry as kindling. One spark, and the whole place would go up in flames. My fingers tightened around the gas can as I climbed the stairs.
I knocked. The sound of shuffling slippers echoed before the door creaked open.
And there he was—Nathan Lowell, the man I hated more than anything in this world.
Rage burned through me like wildfire. I dug my nails into my palm just to keep from lunging at him. He looked like a ghost of himself—sunken cheeks, hollow eyes.
His gaze flicked to the briefcase in my hand, and a greedy smirk twisted his lips.
I dropped it with a heavy thud. "Delete the video. That's all I've got. There's nothing else."
Nathan grinned as he pulled up the file and deleted it right in front of me. "Should've just said so from the start."
Biting back the venom in my throat, I forced a casual tone. "What do you even need the money for? With the way you look, how much time do you have left?"
He shrugged. "I'm dying anyway. Might as well go out with a bang."
I stared at him, disgust churning in my gut. No remorse. No guilt. Just a parasite feeding off others until his last breath.
Something inside me snapped.
In one fluid motion, I whipped out the Taser and jammed it into his neck.
"Nathan Lowell," I spat, my voice shaking with fury. "You ruined my life. You took everything from me. Now you're going to pay for it."
His eyes bulged—but it was too late. The current ripped through him, sending him crashing to the floor.
I tossed the Taser aside and pulled out the knife. With all the hatred I'd bottled up, I drove it into him.
Blood splattered across my face, my clothes, the walls.
He gasped, writhing—until I struck again, and everything went still.
This was on him. He made me this way. He deserved every second of it.
Exhausted, I slumped against the wall, an eerie calm settling over me.
Then I picked up my phone and dialed 911.
"I'd like to report a crime," I said, my voice steady. "I just castrated a man. Come arrest me."
I knew what was coming. But I didn't care.
I'd pay for what I'd done.
And Nathan? He'd already paid for his.
As the sirens grew louder, I closed my eyes—and for the first time in months, I felt free.
"Fine." That single word sealed it—our love story was over.
How could he accept me like this? Hell, I couldn't even accept myself anymore.
Everywhere I went, whispers followed. My so-called friends, my classmates—none of them could look me in the eye. And now, I was one step away from getting kicked out of school.
My own parents couldn't bear the shame. They wanted nothing to do with me. I had become everything I swore I'd never be.
There were nights I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if it would be easier to just... end it all.
But no. Why should I be the one to suffer while the bastard who did this walked free?
Nathan Lowell deserved to burn.
I spent the entire night plotting, my thoughts twisting darker by the hour—until finally, I made my decision.
Even if I couldn't kill him, I'd make sure he never forgot me.
The next morning, I sent him a text—I'll give you whatever you want. Just take the video down.
Playing the broken victim, I got exactly what I expected—his demand: $50k. Transfer it, and it's gone.
A cold smirk tugged at my lips as I typed my reply—Fine. But we do this face to face.
After a long pause, he sent an address. Tomorrow. 3 PM.
Some rundown apartment complex in the middle of nowhere—probably his rat hole.
I emptied my bank account, stuffing every last dollar into a briefcase. Then I hit the market—Taser X2, Swiss Army Knife, and just for good measure, a can of gasoline.
That night, I slept like a baby. Maybe it was the calm before the storm. Or maybe it was the peace of knowing I had nothing left to lose.
The next day, I showed up ready for war.
The building was a death trap—no fire exits, dry as kindling. One spark, and the whole place would go up in flames. My fingers tightened around the gas can as I climbed the stairs.
I knocked. The sound of shuffling slippers echoed before the door creaked open.
And there he was—Nathan Lowell, the man I hated more than anything in this world.
Rage burned through me like wildfire. I dug my nails into my palm just to keep from lunging at him. He looked like a ghost of himself—sunken cheeks, hollow eyes.
His gaze flicked to the briefcase in my hand, and a greedy smirk twisted his lips.
I dropped it with a heavy thud. "Delete the video. That's all I've got. There's nothing else."
Nathan grinned as he pulled up the file and deleted it right in front of me. "Should've just said so from the start."
Biting back the venom in my throat, I forced a casual tone. "What do you even need the money for? With the way you look, how much time do you have left?"
He shrugged. "I'm dying anyway. Might as well go out with a bang."
I stared at him, disgust churning in my gut. No remorse. No guilt. Just a parasite feeding off others until his last breath.
Something inside me snapped.
In one fluid motion, I whipped out the Taser and jammed it into his neck.
"Nathan Lowell," I spat, my voice shaking with fury. "You ruined my life. You took everything from me. Now you're going to pay for it."
His eyes bulged—but it was too late. The current ripped through him, sending him crashing to the floor.
I tossed the Taser aside and pulled out the knife. With all the hatred I'd bottled up, I drove it into him.
Blood splattered across my face, my clothes, the walls.
He gasped, writhing—until I struck again, and everything went still.
This was on him. He made me this way. He deserved every second of it.
Exhausted, I slumped against the wall, an eerie calm settling over me.
Then I picked up my phone and dialed 911.
"I'd like to report a crime," I said, my voice steady. "I just castrated a man. Come arrest me."
I knew what was coming. But I didn't care.
I'd pay for what I'd done.
And Nathan? He'd already paid for his.
As the sirens grew louder, I closed my eyes—and for the first time in months, I felt free.
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