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I am Morgan Dove, and I will not cower.
“No,” I snap. “I did not miss you.”
Slowly, I stand up from the table and step behind my seat. I need to find a way to get to my bag and get my gun.
He laughs and swings the pistol in his hand like a toy. “Are you sure? You might want to be a little nicer to me if you know what’s good for you.”
“I know what’s good for me. You are not it,” I say with no inflection in my voice, no emotion.
“Where is Cam?” I ask.
He angrily chuckles. “Don’t worry. He’s a bit preoccupied.”
Anger radiates from me as I demand to know, “What did you do to him?”
He takes another step closer to me. “Did you fuck him, Honeybee? Did you let him touch you?”
Before I can answer, he charges toward me, rounding the table, and jabs the barrel of the gun under my chin.
He drags his nose up my neck, sniffing me. “You smell like a cheap whore. Is this his?”
Grabbing the front of Cam’s Nighthawks hoodie I’m wearing, he yanks me toward him and kicks my feet out until I’m on my knees in front of him with his gun pointed straight at me. He kneels down in front of me and brushes my hair to the side of my face with the cold barrel.
Ignoring his question, I ask mine again. “What did you do to him?”
He smiles proudly and pretends to shoot the gun, making a pew sound. “I made sure he can’t come between us anymore.”
I don’t know if I should believe him or think he’s bluffing. “I didn’t hear a shot.”
His smile widens when he hears the slight shake in my voice. “Who said I used a gun? I’m very skilled with a blade.”
My stomach twists as images of Cam bleeding out fill my sight. No, no, no. It’s not true. This is just another tactic he’s using to subdue you. Don’t believe it until you see it.
I focus on the gut feeling that I know he’s still alive.
I know Trey has the capability to kill Cam. But he also craves power. He wants Cam to see him take me back. I’ve played Trey’s games long enough to know his favorite moves.
Trey presses the gun into my stomach as his forehead touches mine. “How could you do that to me? Let me think that you were dead? Do you know the pain you caused me? The years of agony I can’t get back?” His voice deepens with rage. “After all I did for you? Even now, when I tracked you down, you thank me by wearing his clothes and reeking of his scent?!”
He pulls back and slaps me across the face before gripping my jaw tightly in his grasp. Shaking slightly, he leans down.
His hand cups my breast through the hoodie, and he squeezes. I wish I could physically jump out of my skin.
His lips hover over mine, and I fight it as he squeezes harder and goes to kiss me.
But I’m no match for his strength. So, I let him kiss me. The second his lips touch mine, I thrust my mouth forward and bite his lip as hard as I can, and the metallic taste of blood explodes in my mouth.
“You bitch!” Trey rears back and stands up, backhanding me with his gun.
Warmth pools down my cheek as he grabs a fist of my hair.
“We will talk about this when we get home. I’m done dealing with this tantrum of yours.”
He leans down once more, but instead of trying to kiss me, he stares at my hair. “You dyed it.”
Gulping, I nod and smile at him. “I like it like this.”
His fist pulls my hair back, tearing pieces from my scalp. “I know you did it just to piss me off. We’ll dye it right away. This doesn’t suit you.”
