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“What girl?” I ask, entertaining the idea of a conversation. Anything is better than being forced to spill my guts to Parker.
“Yeah, what girl?” Parker perks up his interest in the subject, annoying me further.
Easton rolls his eyes, “The chick that gave you a bj in the bathroom. The hooker.” He’s looking at me like I’m an idiot, and I’m half-tempted to punch him in his stupid face. Then I realized what he just called Harper, and I clench my hand into a fist, my teeth grinding so hard I swear they’re seconds away from shattering.
“What did you just call her?” I seethe, not even attempting to hide my anger.
“The hooker. What’s her name? Hannah or Harper?” His brow furrows in confusion, probably not understanding why I’m reacting the way I am. Well, I don’t understand either.
I don’t care about girls. They’re nice to look at and to fuck, but that’s as far as my feelings go for them. I use them as a place to put my dick, so why the fuck am I getting territorial and pissed over someone calling Harper a whore?
Because she’s yours, and nobody fucks with what’s yours. A voice inside my head says. Easton continues without question, “Apparently, after you walked out of the bathroom, James walked in. She asked him if he wanted a blow job, and James being James, said yeah. She sucked him off right there. He said it was the best blow job he’s ever had for twenty bucks.” He laughs like it’s so funny.
“I’m pretty sure I saw this chick working the pole across town. I swear I’ve seen her there, at the Night Shift. So, next time I’m there, I’m going to see what a twenty can get me.”
I don’t know what sets me off then. Like a wildfire spreading out of control, I lash out. Grabbing Easton by the throat, I shove him against the wall, my lip curls back, and I can feel the dark venom filling my veins. Even if she isn’t mine, she won’t be anyone else’s either. I’ll be the one to break her, to hurt her, to make her bleed.
“Don’t even think about touching her. She’s mine…” I basically spit the words at him before I can stop myself. Mine? She’s not mine. She’s not anything, just some stupid girl I had a crush on when we were kids. His gaze widens before it simply turns into confusion. Fuck, I’m confused myself.
Releasing him with a shove, knowing that this is not his fault. It’s hers, it’s all her fault. I whirl around and grab my towel off the bench beside Parker. I’m beyond agitated now, enraged even. I knew she slept around, did shit with other guys, but I guess knowing about it and hearing it are two different things.
“What the fuck was that?” Parker’s voice meets my ears, and I feel him trailing behind me as I exit the weight room.
“Don’t make it into something more than it is, and it won’t be anything,” I answer without turning around. I need to go back to my apartment and change, but more than that, I need to talk to Harper. She’s the reason for this burning rage… and she needs to be the one I dispense it on. Her appearing back in my life is causing mass chaos, and I need to end this, get her the fuck away before something bad happens.
“Dude!” He grabs onto my shoulder, pulling me backward at the same time. I spin around, ready to punch one of my best friends in the face. Like a fly that won’t go away, he just keeps annoying me.
“I said to fucking leave it.” My nostrils flare… I’m going to explode, shatter and all because of that brown hair, hazel-eyed girl.
Parker’s gaze flicks from my face and down to my fists and back up again. He’s not scared. He can take a punch or five, but that’s not the point. I don’t want to punch him. I want to ignore these feelings. This anger and madness.
“You’ve never stuck up for a girl. You’ve also never looked at me like you are right now, so unless you want to throw down, I suggest you tell me what the fuck is going on?”
“I’m not in the mood for this.” I shrug his hand off. “And I don’t want to fight with you. Just leave it alone.” I do my best to remain calm, but all the perfect ingredients for a storm are brewing inside of me, and I know it will soon be unleashed, bringing down everything in my path.
Parker shakes his head, “Sure, just ignore it. Seems like it’s working well for you.”
“I don’t want to talk about her. Not with you or anyone else.”
“Who is she? Is she that girl from the lunchroom? The one you looked like you could kill with a single glance?” I forgot about that day. He had seen her too and even asked about her. I told him she was a ghost, and that’s exactly what she is. A ghost that haunts my every thought.
