Page 49 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

“It’s a pity they broke up,” her friend says.

“I still have hope.”

I spin around to make sure they haven’t trailed me. A full free breath expands my lungs when I’m all alone. For the first time in days, there is no one threatening me or following me. I’m not spinning out about whether Marco is concealed in the next shadow. This is the closest I will get to free until Riot has finished writing L.A. Riot’s next album.

I wander around the vacant food stalls for a while. Now that there’s no need for Jasper to catch up, he’s done that thing where he chameleons himself into the background to keep my space protected.

I check out the posters for the next few big concerts that will be held here. There are plenty for L.A. Riot too. I can’t go more than ten feet without catching sight of his smug face.

Ugh, that look is the same one he leveled at me last night after he tricked me into sucking his cock. He had no intention of giving my things back. He wanted to humiliate me. He’s such an asshole.

I open my purse and retrieve the marker. I might not need the backup for the guys to sign autographs, or whatever other band related situations markers used to come in handy for, but they’re still perfect for my current purpose.

Uncapping the thick, black pen I rise on tiptoe and start to draw my usual signature. The curves and lines of the dick are bigger because the posters in the arena are huge compared to the ones in bus stops and plastered on walls around the city. Once I have the main shape, I add a split at the top and dot lines of spunk hitting his face. I finish it off with a huge pair of hairy balls.

I step back to admire my work, but something is missing. Not the mustache, which I chose to forgo. My graffiti isn’t giving me the release it normally would. Not after last night when he tricked me into getting on my knees for him. Or the night before where he dared me to suck Bronx’s cock and then ordered everyone to treat me like a leper.

“Fuck you, Riot Maddox.” I press the inky tip of the marker to the poster again and draw out a word in big bold letters, BULLY.

A hand wraps around my upper arm before I can add cheater.

Oh crap. Marco. A rush of adrenaline spikes through me. I break into a sweat. Black spots dance in front of my eyes. I react out of instinct, punching backwards and aiming for soft and squishy.

“Of course you’re the one vandalizing our posters.” Riot catches my fist before I make contact. His chest rumbles when he speaks. “Did you hit all of the ones in L.A.?”

My crippled lungs pull in oxygen again. Riot, not Marco. The lesser of two evils.

My heart begs to differ. Marco was always a monster, and he caused me a lot of traumas. But Riot was the one I trusted. The one I saw as my friend. I gave my heart to him. And he destroyed it all. In many ways Riot hurt me far more than Marco ever could.

But in the way that matters right this second, Riot won’t murder me for something I’ve seen.

Or done.

“I tried.” Warmth radiates through me at his annoyance.

His heavy breath stirs the hairs on the top of my scalp as he pins me to his poster with his body. “And have you had fun, Little Vandal?”

I smile from ear to ear. “Very much so.”

“Good. I hope it was worth it.” He guides my hands up above my head, capturing them in one of his.

A gush of hot arousal has me clenching my thighs. I don’t want him to know he can still affect me like this. Even though I doubt there’s any way he doesn’t notice.

He steps back.

I shriek when his palm makes contact with my right ass cheek. The sting of it burns my eyes. My clit on the other hand throbs like it’s the best sensation in the world. “Get the fuck off me.”

Crack. His hand lands again, causing me to jump. My insides clench, too aware of the emptiness inside. “Did you think I would let it go when I caught you?”

“I didn’t plan on getting caught.” I grind my teeth. “I didn’t plan on ever seeing you again.”

“Maybe that was the case in L.A.” He brings his hand down on my ass one more time, but this time he rubs soothing circles over the flesh that take the sting out of the heat. He presses in nice and close. “But you knew you would be tonight.”

Awareness floods me. I did know there was a possibility he would catch me. That he would react. What does that say about me?

“Punishment is over. For now.” He lets me go. “Time to get on the bus.”

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