We were given people to love and things to use. But we use people and cherish things. 

Razbliuto 
(n.) the sentimental feeling you have about someone you once loved but no longer do 

Monday — September 4, 2023 

"Sabrina, get your fucking ass in the car already." 

Curse the stars for letting her talk — fuck — me into being her DD. All I needed tonight was to get shitfaced enough to crush any and every thought of Callista that was in my head. And now, I have no choice but to deal with the aftermath of my actions, sober. 

I grit my teeth as Sabrina takes her time strolling over, sweet-talking the gardener tending to the rose bushes that line the front gates of her house. 

How much of that smile is real and how much is fake, I don't know, but what I do know is that if she doesn't cut the crap and get in here right now, I'm going to get out and haul her in myself. To hell if her father catches me manhandling his daughter. 

She casts a sultry glance at me and then turns her back to me again to whisper something into the man's ear that has him forcing himself to school his features into neutrality. I roll my eyes. 

"Took you long enough," I mutter when she finally drops her ass in the car, restarting the engine before she can shut the passenger door, and race down the streets. 

"Really? Damn, I thought I was quicker than the last time." Her hot pink lips stretch into a grin as she checks her reflection in the wing mirror and runs her hands through her blonde strands. 

I snort and pull into a clearing several meters away from the crowd. The place is about two miles from her house, and her father practically owns the land. 

She grabs my wrist as I reach to unlock the door and pulls me back. 

"You let one shot make its way down your throat and get behind the wheel, and you'll find yourself unable to continue your legacy," she warns, raising her eyebrow at me expectantly for an answer. 

"Yeah, whatever," I say, shrugging her hand off. 

She tosses her phone into the center console and, before I can ask, says, "No pockets. So don't you fucking dare leave without telling me." 

I don't reply, because she knows I know I'll have to face her wrath tomorrow in school if I do dare to leave her stranded. 

I head over to where Marcus is howling with laughter like the piece of fuckshit he is and clap him on the back, causing him to choke on his beer and whirl around. 

"Fucking hell, man, you want me to die or what?" he says once his wheezing passes, and elbows me in the ribs. 

I curl my lips in distaste as I stared at the dogcrap he's chugging down. "Honestly, I don't even know why I bother with you sometimes." He laughs, unaffected, and goes back to narrating his dream orgy — what the fuck? — to the crowd. 

I probably should listen so that I can set it up for his birthday next month, even though most of the details are weird as fuck, but fuck it. I need a drink, and I can't even have one. 

Almost as if the universe is mocking me, Sawyer thrusts a drink into my hands. 

"Vodka with a little bit of magic." He winks. Sawyer is probably the most decent out of the bunch, I have to admit. 

Then again, I might be just a little bit biased. 

"Thanks," I mumble tipping the drink into Marcus' mug before he can refill it with the gagshit he claims to like. 

"I saw Sabrina slithering out of your car just now." Sawyer says. "What, the two of you exclusive now?" 

"Yeah, like in hell would that happen." I mutter, already regretting my decision to drive her here as I see her perch herself on the rear of my Corvette with a red cup in her hand, a small crowd slowly shifting around her. Sawyer follows my gaze. 

"Remind me never to leave my car in her line of sight." I sigh. 

He laugh and hooks an arm around my shoulder, pulling me away from Marcus toward Sabrina. 

"Fuck no, I've had enough of her today," I state, stopping near the hood of my car as I watch her sidle up against Cameron Adler. Adler latches his mouth to her throat, and I have a vague feeling that my car is going to end up at the cleaner's tomorrow. 

"Enough of just her, or people in general?" he asks, and I turn around to find his glassy gaze burning. Burning with glazed want. 

Well, fuck. 

"Just her." 

And Callista. 

I grab his throat without a second's warning and slam my lips onto his, roughly stroking his length over the denim of his trousers, making him arc into me. Fuck if this isn't exhilarating. 

I force his lips to part as he rips my shirt open, buttons flying, and our tongues clash in a symphony of desire. I savor the lingering traces of vodka and vermouth and coil a hand around his throat, tightening my hold as we fight for dominance. 

I needed control, and I was fucking taking it. 

I whirl him around and shove him against the hood of my car without detaching our lips, chasing the feeling of lust that seemed to be reserved only for him. 

Callista had shown up and hacked the leash that strictly kept my darkest thoughts and memories at bay. I need to gain back some semblance of control. 

But as his fingers tug at the strands of my hair and his feather-light touches trail down my arms, I can't help but feel like this is wrong. 

I squeeze my eyes shut even further and wind a hand through his tousled hair, harshly tugging his head back and baring his throat to me. I latch my teeth onto it and bruise the sensitive skin. 

Yet despite it all, I still see only Callista's face, her breathy moans resounding in my ears as I suck her skin and force her to bow to me. 

She's all that matters. 

He lowers his hand to my chest and slowly pushes me off as if sensing my thoughts. 

"Yeah, no, I think it's people in general today." The twinkle in his eyes drop a little and I suddenly feel like an asshole. 

Callista is such a fucking bitch. She has to ruin everything. 

"Change my mind." I say more than ask and tug him back, staring into his amber eyes that are lacquered with alcoholic haze. Fuck, why are we in a forest? I need a damned room. 

He grins and rakes his nails down my bare chest, before pulling away. "Next time. When you're actually in the mood." 

It doesn't take him more than three steps to find a junior who had been watching our entire exchange with wide, desire-filled eyes, and he seems to have no qualms about sealing his lips with the boy's as he leans into him. 

I throw my head back and curse, aching for the numbness alcohol provides. 

I dig into my pockets and pull out a cigarette, lighting it and inhaling a large drag. Ice burst floods my throat and I shut my eyes in temporary relief. 

"The fuck do you look so depressed?" I glance sideways and see Ryder looking at me with a mocking smirk. "The ladies got tired of you and left you here all alone?"  

My gaze locks on the girl with shiny silver hair beside him. I look her dead in the eye, attempting to summon a shred of lust, without much success. "Mind abandoning him for a stray?" 

She shrugs, unbothered, and slides out of his hold, perching upon the hood beside me. What is with all the bitches doing that? 

It's my turn to smirk as I throw an arm around the girl and let her run her tongue down the column of my throat. Ryder's jaw drops. 

"Man, fuck this bitch if you want. I'm not touching her now." 

I roll my eyes and put the cigarette out on the back of my palm before flicking it at his face. "Pussy." 

"You can join, you know?" The girl says, baiting him with an outstretched hand and a seductive smile. Only last week, I would have jumped at the opportunity of fucking this godsent nymph. 

But for some fucked up reason, I'm just not in the damn spirit today. 

And under layers and layers of denial, I have a damned good guess that it wasn't something, but someone who is influencing my current indiscriminate state of mind. 

●⁍●⁍●⁍●  

I knew that when I'd heard the drunken slur of Sabrina calling out to the rager's newest addition, this night was ending in shit. 

Because if you would think of the she-Devil for even the slightest moment, she would break through all realms and raze all queendoms just to make an appearance before you. 

My grin falls. 

The chatter around me continues, no one seeming to notice the accursed nuclear bitch who was strolling amongst them. 

I tune out the voice of Marcus' talking. I don't feel the hands of the girls around me trailing down my arms and chest anymore. I don't bask in the feeling of being in control. 

I no longer am. 

Her feet are moving, her eyes laughing uncertainly, her hands running through her hair nervously. Her plump lips move in sync with her tongue, forming words, saying something, but I can't hear them as my gaze zeroes in on every inch of her. 

Devouring her. 

What in the name of everything unholy and fucked up is she doing here? Why does she seem to be everywhere all of a sudden? 

I clench my teeth. 

Of course, someone had to invite her. There's no way she would turn down a shot at seeking attention. And what is she doing talking to Sabrina of all people? Does she have no sense of self-preservation? 

I lock my jaw and tighten my grip around the waist of whoever is sucking at my throat. My aggression needs an outlet. 

No one seemed to detect the change in my line of sight except Marcus. His voice trails off as he follows my gaze and sees her. 

I don't like that. Him looking at her. 

I mentally snap my spine at the suggestion of the thought before redirecting it. 

Of course, I won't like him looking at her. She is deceptively cunning, and Marcus is my best friend. I do not want him to get sucked into her vortex and end up shredded like me. 

His gaze drinks her in and that's when my tongue decides to loosen. 

"Don't." 

The word was meant to be a warning for him to not risk his sanity. Instead, it comes out in a growl, one that threatens to shred him if he dares to approach her for reasons completely different. 

"She your new fucktoy or something?" he asks with an eyebrow raised, amusement lacing his tone. I bite down on my tongue, hard enough to almost draw blood. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? 

"Not in the slightest." 

Marcus had been my closest friend through the years, and if I had to trust someone wholly with my life, he would definitely make the cut. He'd been with me since freshman year. 

But with Callista, it was always just her and I, either hiding in my backyard or slipping past the guards stationed around her front yard with the stealth of a cat.  

So even Marcus hadn't known much about her, except what my occasional slip of the tongue let on. It was vaguely between the lines of "the girl next door" and "one of my friends" until she moved away. 

Never a name. 

The supposed enmity between our parents that Callista talked about had ensured as much. 

So what am I supposed to tell him? Secrets were rare between the two of us. Marcus is like a brother to me and I hate lying to him. 

And fuck me sideways for all my damned overthinking because Marcus has already pushed himself off my Corvette and is stalking toward Callista. 

"Mmm..." I flick my gaze to the girl who is trailing a path of kisses down my jaw, biting down after every peck. 

My vision flickers for a moment as I picture Callista there instead, nipping at my skin with her teeth and tongue. 

"No." I say abruptly, grabbing the girl's waist and pushing her off me as metallic brown hair dissolves to faded blonde. 

Fuck. 

Her brows crease as she sweeps her gaze over me. "Do you want me to go slower?" 

I shake my head in a barely concealed dismissal and throw it back, running my hands through my hair with shut eyes. What was I telling myself yesterday? That I was going to destroy her? I scoff at myself. 

As my gaze finds its target once again, I feel a surge of ire claw at me as I watch Marcus wrap his arms around Callista. Who the ire is directed at, I don't know. I don't think I want to.

And why is her ass on my car?

I glare at the back of her head as she settles onto my car like it's hers. I can count the feet that separate us on one hand. She is so fucking close yet so far off in a place I pray I'll never venture into.

I forcefully tear my eyes away from her.

Cameron had another girl plastered to him seconds after Sabrina ditched his ass, though it doesn't last for long because the second she feels my gaze skim over her, even though it lasts for a fraction of a moment, her face breaks into a highly suggestive smirk as she slithers out of his hold and makes her way over to me.

I am so not in the mood for anyone right now. Is my disinterest not tangible enough?

I roll my eyes as she opens her mouth to say something and shut her down before the words can take form. "I'm not in the mood." I stated flatly.

"Why not?" She pouts and I would have sealed her lips with mine at that if my head wasn't already swarming with thoughts of another girl.

"Does it inconvenience you in any way?" I ask, letting my lips offer her a smile that holds anything but amusement. I watch with mute satisfaction as her face pales and she quietly walks away. 

Good. 

Now I can go back to starin— glaring at my archnemesis. 

Her head swivels around a beat later and I feel my insides rearrange themselves in a weird, chaotic manner.

This is, perhaps, a new sort of rage, I tell myself. 

I don't suppress the fury in my orbs, letting her see exactly what she does to me every time she dares to look me in the eye. 

Her gaze falters as mine locks on hers and I almost smirk at how defenseless and weak she is. Her shoulders hunch as she balks momentarily and the thrill that courses through my veins at that should have been fucking illegal because fuck. 

But then her eyes harden and she looks away as if I'm not worth it, and fuck no. That shit isn't going to sit with me. 

Darkness swallows my gaze once more and I burrow it deeper into her as I rake it down her body. 

Her hell-sent outfit exposes a thin line of her waist, about an inch at most, and fuck if it doesn't make me want to do very, very bad things to her. And I haven't even seen the front of it. Thank the stars her legs aren't on display because then I'd have my hands full gouging out the eyeballs of anyone whose eyes dared to linger on them. 

And what the fuck is wrong with my brain again. 

I feel a pair of eyes on me and rip my gaze off her skin, finding Sabrina stumbling toward me. I glance at Callista but find her engaged in conversation with Marcus. 

In the seventh circle of Hell was I tolerating any of that shit. 

"Heyy babe—" I shut my eyes with a sigh as Sabrina falls upon me, nuzzling her face into my bare chest before pressing her lips to it. 

"Are you planning on leaving with someone?" Please say yes, please say yes. Then I'll have the passenger seat empty and I'll be able to strap Callista to the seat and take her somewhere I can follow up my thoughts in action.

My dick screams in attention as my head paints an orgasmic visual of her being defiled by me in monstrous ways.

I really hope Callista knows I'm not going to be gentle with her.

Sabrina looks up at me through her lashes and presses a softer kiss to my skin, and I clench my hands into a fist to keep them from peeling her off. My boner slightly deflates as I look down at baby blue eyes instead of shimmering green. 

"Yeah, you." she says like it's the most natural thing in the world (okay, maybe it sort of is), and lets her hands trail south. I had forgotten I had even asked her a question.

I sigh and let her work the tension out of my muscles but as I lift my head, my gaze locks on Callista again and my body goes rigid again, every part of it. 

Marcus seems to have gotten way too comfortable with her and when I see her press herself into his chest and arc into his touch with her head thrown back to meet his eyes with a flirtatious smirk that he returns, I see red. 

Not to mention Sasha fucking Collins eyeing her like she's the damn prize of the night. 

"I'll drop you off at your house then." I say and walk around her, leaving her behind as I manifest before the trio quicker than they can detect my stride. 

Other than Callista, of course. She senses my oncoming presence at once. 

The look on her face is definitely worth it when she realizes she isn't going to escape me tonight. 

I have zero intentions of letting her go. 

I pause a foot away from Callista and lock eyes with her, my stare sharp enough to pierce her like a dagger. I disregard Marcus for now, but he and I were going to have a chat later. 

Sasha doesn't have any qualms about letting her tongue roll, though. "Here to join our orgy, Ambrose?" 

Which fucker decided that Callista was going to partake in any second-rate orgy?

Sabrina saves me a reply as she reappears beside me, hands wrapped around my arm as she eyes the four of us with that calculating look that promises a scandal. Fuck. No. 

"Callista, this is the Chance I was talking about." She says to my— no, the brunette as she cocks her head at me, and then turns her attention to me. 

"She says she's new," Sabrina says without slurring for once, eyes sparkling with something that tells me this is her new idea of entertainment. "Don't give her too much trouble. I like her." 

She hiccups again, flashing a grin at Callista. 

Whatever she's up to, it is not going to be good. But who said I'm not allowed to indulge a bit? Sabrina has already seen me face fuck Callista at school, so if she wants to pretend like that never happened for now, I'll gladly follow. 

"You're gonna want to tell that to Marcus here. He's already got  paws all over her." I tsk as I look at Marcus for a fleeting moment, finding his interest spiking up with the promise of drama in the air. 

"Am I not allowed to toy with fresh meat?" He asks with mock downcast eyes, running his hands over the waistband of Callista's pants. 

My eyes narrow at the movement and then I lift my gaze to her eyes, finding them incredibly uncomfortable. I smirk. 

"I'm not fresh meat." Callista says with a frown, threading her fingers through Marcus' to stop their wandering further south. 

"That's not for you to decide." I say, and her body stiffens at the sound of my hoarse voice. 

Fresh meat. 

I breathe in the cool air deeply. 

So close. I am so very close to her; I can feel the warmth of her body. I just have to reach out and I'll have her at my mercy at once. 

Sasha rolls her eyes and scoots away as I move toward Callista by an inch, a smirk on my face that my eyes don't reflect. I am sure that under the thumping metal reverberating through the compound, Callista's heart is beating a wild rhythm. 

"You had your fun, Marcus," I mumble, not tearing my gaze from Callista's. "Let me have mine." 

Marcus scoffs at the dismissal and jabs me half-heartedly in the ribs as he abandons Callista in pursuit of Sasha. Sabrina, sensing my need for privacy, — however much we can get in an open compound — giggles one last time and makes herself scarce, though I know she is surely somewhere within earshot, probably with her camera lens on us again. 

Now that I can look at Callista without the presence of another body within arm's length, I let my smirk drop. 

Callista shifts only slightly in her seat, chin high as she waits for me to break the silence. If she was on her feet, she would not have been able to look me in the eye without cocking her head back. What difference does she think it makes if she's at eye level with me? 

"I thought I made myself clear last night. And in the afternoon today." I keep my voice low because I know there are at least six sets of desperate eyes and ears on me all the time. 

"Did you?" she asks as she fakes a quizzical tone, furrowing her brows as if she's trying to remember. The nerve of this fucking bitch. "Oh, right. You must be getting desperate if you decided to approach me a third time." 

She lets her voice raise by generous octaves as she blinks innocently at me, her voice carrying through the wind and catching the attention of quite a few more ears. I hope she doesn't wish she's going to get any support from the crowd because that's just going to be sad. 

They all bow to me. 

And she will, too. 

"Callista," I begin, stepping into her personal space until my thighs brush her closed knees.  

"Chance," she mimics, refusing to back down even as her gaze flickers again. Proximity flusters her then. I catalog the fact for later use. 

She glances around as if hoping for someone to step in and help. 

My miserable she-Devil. 

"You know," I murmur as I let the magnitude of the stares weigh down on her, "You're treading on thin ice." 

She takes a beat longer to reply. "That's all you have to say?" And a determined gleam enters her eyes. 

No, she had to learn her fucking place. 

"Wanna know a rookie mistake you're making right now?" 

"Bothering to spare you not one but several moments of my attention? I'm well aware." 

I let out a dark chuckle as I look her dead in the eye. 

"Wrong, Willow," I mumble, the words low enough only for her to hear before I raise my voice. "You think I'm above bending you over my car right now and teaching you a very lasting lesson in what happens to disrespectful whores who can't hold their tongue. I don't think the crowd would mind getting a free show, would you now?" I say the last words to the hungry gazes devouring our interaction. 

No one dares to reprimand me. 

Her smile drops. 

I force my knee between hers, too damn strong for her to fight off, and lean my hands on either side of the car. She clutches the metal tighter as she realizes the gravity of what I'm going to do to her and before she can get any ideas like slapping me again, I curl my fingers around hers, effectively immobilizing any attempt at defiance. 

I breathe her in and only I perceive the shiver that runs through her body at the intimacy. 

I'm having a hard time figuring out if she likes this or not. 

Either way, I'm not going to stop. 

"Your rookie mistake?" She starts through clenched teeth, the music dimming down as the DJ decides that other things deserve the spotlight, "Thinking that I haven't realized that assholes like you don't have respect for women. So no, I don't think you're above doing something as sickening as that." 

A collective gasp sounds from the crowd and I'm not surprised that Callista is beyond giving a shit about what people think of her. However, I do note the way her eyes shift, seemingly looking for anyone to help. 

"Respect is earned, Willow, never owed. At least not to low lives with insolent attitudes." And just to strip her dignity a little bit more, I add, "And we'll see how much of what you said is true once you're ass is in the air and you're screaming my name like I'm your fucking God." 

A flash goes off from our right, illuminating half of her face. The darkness in her green eyes becomes so much more prominent all of a sudden as white light rings her right iris for a brief moment. I resist the urge to bite my inner cheek as I realize that she likes this a lot more than she's letting on. 

My dirty, dirty little girl. 

She twists her fingers out of mine, taking advantage of the split second that my grip on her loosened as I'm distracted by what I see in her eyes. She doesn't give me time to act as she shoves me off and gets back on her feet. 

I stagger back by about a foot, cursing myself for letting her get past my defenses. 

I wonder if she's had anything to drink. Her eyes seem to be sober enough, but I've learned not to trust this girl anymore about anything. Well, even if she is drunk, it won't stop me from ravaging her. 

"You're a royal ass, I trust you know that?" 

The silence is piercing. Unnerving. Even nature seems to have fallen quiet, the forest silently watching from the sidelines. 

"Royalty does seem to have certain privileges so yes, I'm well aware." I throw her words back at her and tilt my head to the side, debating whether I should step into her personal space again or battle her from here. "And they usually tend to get anything — or anyone for that matter — they want." 

She gives me an infuriated look that I remember as one that meant she realized she'd said the wrong thing and was cursing at herself for it. 

I almost smile at the memory. Almost smile at the bond between us that once was. 

Almost. 

"Whatever," she mutters under her breath, apparently done with this matter. "I'm out."  

No, she isn't. I still need to figure out who invited her here. Amongst other things. She's not going to be walking out of here intact. 

She sidesteps me and tries to leave. The crowd parts as one and clears a path for her to leave, — did these fuckers think she was a queen? — low murmur rippling through the compound. 

I let her take a few steps, let her believe that insulting me and leaving me hanging like this is a possibility. And then I'm at her back, grabbing her arm and whirling her around. 

"Chance, what the f—" I shove her by the shoulders and watch her fall flat on her ass and let an unfeeling grin grace my lips. 

I hear a sharp intake of breath from someone but don't find it in myself to care as I straddle her hips and force her back into the mud. 

Her eyes widen this time with true fear and I can't help the dark chuckle that escapes me at having her underneath me like this. 

At putting her in her fucking place. 

"Maybe I should save the spanking for another day and fuck you like this right here and right now." I say, winding a hand through her soft hair, grabbing her face with my other, and forcing her eyes to meet mine like I had done last night. 

The primal part of me hungers for more and hardens my cock until it turns to rock, and I find myself grinding against her, groaning as pleasure ricochets through me. 

She's at a loss for words. I am, too, because fuck, she feels so fucking good beneath me. I'd tie her up and keep her like this forever if I could. 

She snarls at me a moment later, cursing at me in a hundred different languages as she tries to wrangle her head out of my hold and lifts her other hand to strike me. 

I knock it back into the sand, hard enough for a cry to escape her before her eyes turn to molten fire. 

If looks could kill, there would be nothing left of me to bury. 

I hear laughter break out from my side and I turn to find Marcus struggling to keep his howls at bay. I raise an eyebrow in question. 

"Man, this shit's gold." He barks out another laugh, staring at Callista like her ass is up for sale. "Fuck you, Ambrose, she's mine next." 

I snarl in warning before I can stop myself, something in me itching with a feeling foreign to me. 

The look Callista shoots him is pure conflagration, a look of rage so blindingly intense, that I find myself fighting a smug smirk. 

I shout as pain suddenly flares across my face and a resonating crunch verifies the fact that my nose is broken. "Fucking—" 

I press my hands to my face and find my nose bleeding, my left cheekbone screaming in pain. The agony is replaced by unyielding rage as I see Callista panting as she tries to catch her breath, her hair messed up, looking at me with all the hatred in the world. 

"Bastard." She spits at me. Oh, fuck her too. 

I snatch the cloth of her top, making her scream in shock, and yank her off the ground and pull her toward me until her eyes are right before mine, our noses only an inch apart. She sneers in my face and I growl in rage at the defiance, barely able to think as my other hand slides under her top and finds the strap of her bra at the back. 

"I don't fucking mind ripping this off and giving a nice long view of your rack to everyone." Or myself. Especially myself. 

I tug on it a little to prove my point.  

Her face pales. 

My eyes drop to the v of her top. I want to sink my teeth into her skin. 

The top is pretty; shame it'll go to waste because of Callista's inability to co-exist peacefully. 

My throat dries when she fights against my grip, her chest brushing mine and her heart thumping so unsteadily that her body quivers. I don't think she realizes she's practically dry-humping me at this point. 

I shake the thoughts out of my head.

"You're going to regret doing that, Willow." I whisper, dragging my fingers across her skin and toying with the hooks of her bra. I should rip it off her right now and then proceed to the rest of her clothing.

The silence echoes my whisper.

She looks at me with raging betrayal in her eyes, as if I were the antagonist of our story, and stills against me, hands halting their assault on me and resting against my chest.

"Am I?" 

Her chest heaves as she breathes heavily, and I'm suddenly reminded of my hand still fisting the cloth around her chest. I loosen my grip and run my knuckles over her clothed bust, fighting the growl of pleasure that threatens to escape me.  

She's been carved by Aphrodite herself, no fucking doubt. 

Far too lost in a reverie of lust, I don't anticipate the attack that's coming my way. 

I bark a shout of slicing pain as her knee jams into my spine, and I arch my back with my eyes squeezed shut as my vertebrae throb from the assault. 

Callista shoves me off her the next moment, scrambling to her feet and staring down at me with something akin to rage and a smug sense of victory. 

I look up at her and any shred of lust that might have existed shrivels into nothing as I look into her eyes. "You've fucking done it, Willow." 

I'm on my feet in an instant, closing my palm around her throat and holding it there tight enough for her supply of air to cut. 

I'm vaguely aware of her clawing at her throat like her life depends on it, which it does, and that the crowd has descended into a state of silent frenzy, half of them urging me to rip her throat out and the other half growing a minute backbone and wondering if they should step in. 

What I do see, clear as fucking daylight, is the unmasked hatred in her eyes as she looks at me, her frame so breakable in my hold. 

But one question that hounds me is why is she acting like I am the Devil reincarnated? She has broken me so thoroughly, aren't I owed my share of revenge? Isn't it my divine right? 

I grip her harder, then, because murder isn't something that I can easily get away with, release her. 

She steps away from me and inhales a lungful of air through a gasp, clutching her neck, coughing, sputtering, footing unbalanced, and she staggers backward against my Chevrolet Corvette. 

I force out every unwanted emotion that fights for my attention at the sight of her and instead channel all rage to the surface of my being.

She lifts her head and looks at me with horror, her chestnut hair messed up like she's just had sex. I scratch the inside of my thumb with my index, a desperate ache in my soul at the illicit realization that I'm the reason she was sporting the post-sex look. 

"If this is you and your teenage I-kinda-like-her-so-I'll-be-a-dick-to-her-until-she-notices-me act then it's not earning you any brownie points." she spits at me, pushing herself against the car and righting herself. 

Why the fuck can't she just get out of my life? Or have not come back at all? Or have just not fucking existed in the first place?? 

That would make life so much easier. 

I move toward her, letting the primal part of me take the reigns. 

The days and years of the aftermath of her infliction blur into one heart-wrenching memory, and I let my need for revenge carve my path. 

She's shaken, I know that much from the tremble in her knees, the way her heart had begun racing when I touched her. Too bad the tremours are only going to intensify. 

I refuse to look her in the eye, a part of me uncertain I'll back down if I see those emerald eyes reflecting a predator in their gaze. 

I see Marcus descend on her as a mirrored version of myself — a hunter — and his face stretched into a manic grin as he catches hold of her and presses his face into her hair with an animalistic gleam in his eyes. 

Fuck, I love Marcus like he's my blood, but I'm going to carve his pharynx out and feed it to his pet goldfish if he doesn't get away from her right now.  

"The offer still stands," he says, "Even though Sasha ditched us." 

He appears glum at the thought but his eyes spark with lust as he traces a harsh finger down her throat and between her breasts, pulling down the neck of her clothing as he goes. 

Nails chafe skin and I am pretty sure she winces slightly. I stare at the line where Marcus' index had been and see a rough trail of scraped skin. 

She flings out an elbow to jab him in the throat. 

The next few moments pass in a blur. 

My steps had halted but when Marcus rears back to strike Callista in return, on instinct, I find myself lunging forward to grab Marcus' back collar and daring him to lay a finger on her. 

But before my fingers wrap around him, someone else rips him off her and sends him flying into the mud, and I stop in my tracks to launch at whoever the fuck had the nerve to attack my best friend. 

Callista returning here had been the bombshell. 

Drake Valentino standing there with a look of contempt on his face as an unflinching wall between Callista and me was, for some forbidden reason, much, much worse.