He hates her and loves her and wants to fuck her but has to kill her.

His hands ache to touch her skin and he grips the gun harder to compensate. Need. Want. Desire. Lust. And through it all, burning hatred. He wants to watch her blood pouring from her body. He needs to hold her close and protect her from harm. Lauren. Emily. Two halves of the same woman, and how desperately he needs them to be separate people. To kill Emily and leave her body in the gutter with the garbage she belongs with. To hold Lauren close in his arms and whisk her away from everything.

His heart aches with the weight of his conflicting need. His love and his enemy in one, and he cannot handle the dichotomy. He points the gun to her head. End the conflict, end the pain. His finger is on the trigger. One twitch and it's finished.

And then she speaks, and once again, he's lost.

Love. Hatred.

Lauren. Emily.

His.