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And I have so much fucking rage.
My fist connects with her face over and over, a blur of movement punctuated by my harsh breaths and her grunts.
First, her cheek splits open.
Then my knuckles do.
But I still don’t stop.
I hit her because Marcus isn’t here, because he can’t do it. Because I don’t know if he would do it even if he were here. Because he’s a better person than she could ever hope to be, and because she took something from me that wasn’t hers to take.
Tears blur my vision. Pain shoots up my arm with every punch. My head pounds in time to the strikes of my fist as I let violence pour out of me until my knuckles are bruised and bloodied.
Finally, the torrent of movement slows. My arm feels like fucking lead, my hand hurts like a son of a bitch, and when I focus on Natalie, I hardly recognize her.
Her lip is split, blood smeared across her mouth. Her eyes are bloodshot, the right one swelling shut, and her head lolls as she sags between the two men.
Some semblance of rational thought pierces the haze of anger in my mind, and I realize how reckless I’m being. This is a bad fucking place to do something like this. We’re lucky she didn’t make too much noise or scream for help. We’re isolated, hidden in an out-of-the-way spot, but we’re still on a college campus.
I nod at Theo and Ryland, and they let go of her. She slides down the wall like a deflating balloon, landing hard on her ass as she groans. I step forward to stand over her as the two men frame me on either side.
“Look at me.” My voice is flat.
Hissing a pained breath, Natalie tilts her head up to meet my gaze, her face battered and swollen.
“Leave.” I flex my fingers, feeling the ache in my knuckles and the pain that travels all the way up my arm. “Go to whatever city you like. Fuck whatever men you like, and let them buy you whatever the fuck they think you’re worth. But if you ever come back to Halston, I’ll kill you.”
Chapter 8
We leave her leaning against the building and take the long way across campus back to Theo’s car, avoiding any heavily populated areas. Theo pulls out his phone and taps out a message as we walk, and I have a feeling he’s seeing what can be done to cover our tracks and erase any evidence we were here.
I appreciate that.
Not that I think Natalie will go to the police. She’d be an idiot to go down that road, given everything she’s been an accomplice to.
“Jesus, Rose,” he murmurs as he slips the cell back into his pocket. He glances down at me, and at the bloody knuckles on my hand. “I knew you were a badass, but I didn’t know you were that badass.”
“Stupid ass, more like.” I grimace, trying to make a fist. My fingers shake as they curl, and I make a low, pained noise as I stretch them out. “I could’ve gotten us all busted.”
“Nah. We’ll take care of it.” Theo glances over my head at Ryland as he speaks, and Ryland nods. “But you did earn yourself another trip to Doctor Adelman,” the blond man adds as he shifts his gaze back to me. I groan, but he just shrugs. “Hey, you brought it on yourself this time.”
We reach his car and pile inside. This time, Ryland holds the back door open for me and then slides onto the seat next to me. As Theo pulls out of the lot, Ryland lifts my hand, examining my knuckles.
“I don’t think anything’s broken,” he declares, still holding my hand in the palm of his. “But we should have Adelman check you out, just to be sure.”
“Yeah. We can have him certify that you’re one hundred percent, grade-A badass,” Theo jokes from the driver’s seat.
Ryland chuckles dryly, and I crack a smile. I can feel how much all of us are trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy, to pretend that a vital piece of the whole isn’t missing, but every bit of levity rings a little hollow.
It’s not time to grieve, I remind myself. Not yet. Not until you know.
Not so long ago, life without Marcus in it was my normal. Life without any of these men in it was normal. But now, I feel his absence as deeply as I feel the absence of my right forearm and hand.
That’s what it feels like, I realize with a start. Like I’m missing a piece of myself.
“What does it mean that Carson and Dominic had someone else helping them?” I ask as we drive away from the University of Halston’s campus. “Any ideas who it would’ve been?”
“One of the other competitors, most likely,” Theo says with a grunt. “Although it’s possible he was coordinating with someone outside the game.”
