Page 24 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

“You are such a dick.” She climbs off the couch, wincing when she puts her weight on her ankle. “Ouch.”

Putting down the can, I plan to grab her elbow to support her weight. But that’s too nice for this situation when I need her to leave. Betrayal doesn’t merit kindness.

She betrayed me in the worst of ways. Breaking my heart, destroying our friendship, and almost ruining the band’s shot.

Pulling her shoulders back, she lifts her chin and walks away from me. I follow a few steps behind, entering Bronx’s bedroom behind her. I slam the door.

“Get out.” She glances around the room before picking up another of Bronx’s shirts from the floor. She drops it on the bed.

“You get out.” I cross my arms over my chest. She’s not going to tell me what to do. She’s the one who shouldn’t be here.

She turns her back on me. Gripping the hem of her wet T-shirt, she lifts it and exposes her pale back.

Jesus. I can see every bump of her spine from here. Why the fuck has she not been eating?

No. She doesn’t get my sympathy. She doesn’t get my worry. Not anymore. “You’re leaving.”

The collar drags her hair up with it, and when she’s finally free of the soggy cotton, her hair cascades down between her shoulder blades. She snatches up the fresher shirt from where she tossed it on the bed. Tugs it on and smooths it down.

My need for her to be gone is a thick, dark stain spreading on my soul. I’m propelled by it further into the room. “Get your shit. And get out of here before Bronx comes back inside.”

She turns around to glare at me. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any things.”

What does that mean? No, I don’t care. I tower over her. “Good. Then you can leave right now.”

“As long as Bronx wants me here...” She walks around me and curls her fingers around the handle. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“He doesn’t want you here.” I jostle her, close enough that my breath makes a few strands sway where it hits her hair.

“He does.” She twists around to face me, which brings us into contact. Plants her feet, even though it makes her grimace. Her lips flick viciously up. “He wants me in his bed so he can make me scream his name every night.”

I see red.

My hand wraps around her neck. Her back meets the door. I shove in close. I can’t see the whites surrounding her dark brown irises. She smells like hotel laundry, beer, and my fucking bandmate.

No cherries. No candy. No me.

“Get off me.” She pushes back.

I don’t budge. The pulse beneath her stubborn jaw beats defiantly under my thumb. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I got lost for a second. In the memory. In the dreams of a boy who didn’t know better. In a girl who made promises she never intended to keep. We were really something. Until we weren’t.

She’s a viper. She’s too close. But I can’t back down. I won’t give her an inch. Or a chance to sink her claws any deeper into Bronx.

Her breath is harsh and quick, but she takes control of it. Her softness turns to ice. Her chest expands. In comparison to the chaos inside me, her voice is too calm, too cold. “I told you to get off me.”

The urge to get closer is impossible to fight. I’m deliberate with my next words. Enunciating them as clearly as the bell of finality they are ringing. “Leave this suite. Stay away from Bronx, and from the band. Stay the fuck out of my life. Or you won’t like what I do next.”

I tighten my grip on the sides of her throat. She needs to know I mean it. That she should be scared of the lengths that I will go to in order to never see her again.

There’s a fraction of a second where it looks like she might do what I say. Her pupils dilate and that thump under my thumb seems to stop before speeding up. That used to be a giveaway she was into it.

It doesn’t last. She ignores my hand around her throat. “Fuck you, Riot Maddox.”

“You already did.” I drop my hand and yank the door open behind her. The panel pushes her to move to the side. “I won’t let you do it again.”

Leaving Bronx’s room, I lock eyes with my drummer who has come in from the balcony. He glowers at me and tucks his fists into his armpits. He’s no doubt cussing me out in his head. Stupid asshole gets one taste of her pussy and he’s fucking obsessed.