Claimed And Marked By Her Stepbrother Mates novel Chapter 295

Chapter 295: 295-Hugging Norman

Helanie:

"Don’t cry if you get hurt in the process," he said, looking so happy, as if he already knew he would win.

"I wo—" I was about to confirm I wouldn’t when he lunged at me. As soon as he grabbed my arm, I started scratching him.

I know that wasn’t part of the match, but I had learned to defend myself with whatever I could.

"If that’s how you want to play," he grunted, grabbing my wrists to stop me and shoving me against the tree.

I didn’t realize it would be so easy for him to overpower me.

"Since we don’t have anything to restrain you with, keeping you still for a minute should work just the same," he whispered in my face, leaning over me as he pinned me to the tree.

Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I came up with my next plan. I turned my face to the side and bit his left arm so hard that I swear I could taste his blood.

"Let go!" I screamed, only to try biting him on the neck when he freed his hand. That’s when he had to back away to avoid it, and I managed to free myself.

I tried to run, but he reached out again. This time, he accidentally grabbed my sweater, and the next thing I knew, I heard a loud ripping sound.

My body went numb. All thoughts of the fight left my mind as I stopped and stared at my sweater.

"My sweater!" I uttered helplessly. He froze completely and stepped back, raising his hands to show he was surrendering.

"Why would you do that?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Even though I had a shirt on underneath, I felt so exposed.

The ripping sound triggered something deep within me. I tried so hard to control my emotions and not let my trauma show, but I couldn’t help it.

"You said you wanted to fight—" he said, sounding exhausted, using a tone that made it seem like I was overreacting.

"You idiot—" I shouted, slapping his chest and then lunging at him in a full-blown catfight, flailing my arms wildly to hit him wherever I could.

"Okay, enough!" he said, putting his hand on my forehead and pushing me away. I kept swinging my arms, but his extended arm and firm hand on my forehead prevented me from reaching him.

He stood effortlessly in his spot, watching me with a mix of exhaustion and disbelief.

"You’re so mean—why would you do that? Don’t you know it hurts? It’s my freaking birthday, and you ruined it! You had no right to do that! When I say don’t—it means don’t!" I yelled, my voice muffled against his palm as I kept flailing my arms recklessly.

Then, suddenly, he moved his hand, and the momentum I’d been using to reach him made me stumble forward uncontrollably.

I landed straight against his chest with a thud, my fists softly pounding on him. I kept sobbing and screaming into his chest, my eyes tightly shut because I didn’t want to face reality.

The reality of what my life had turned into.

"I’m sorry."