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Alone. All over again, I am alone. Tears sting my eyes, and I try to swallow the emotions down but just like vomit, refusing to be subdued, the tears keep coming.
“It’s sad, isn’t it?” His deep voice sounds against my ear a moment before his scent meets my nose. Citrus and soap. Clean, spicy. I whip around, wiping the tears from my eyes.
Where did he come from?
“What’s sad?” I croak.
Those green eyes of his narrow in on me and his head cocks to the side in amusement, or maybe curiosity. It’s almost like he’s trying to read my soul, trying to suck the secrets right out of me. No. No, I won’t show him how weak I am. How broken I feel on the inside, that I’m one pull string away from unraveling completely.
He steps closer, his firm chest pressing against mine. Caging me. He’s all perfectly sculpted muscle and stupid gorgeousness and I want to rip my gaze away, but I can’t. I’m pretty sure he means to intimidate me, and he does, easily since he’s a whole foot taller and has at least one hundred pounds on me but there is another feeling, rising up, poking through the tremble of fear and it’s a strange one, one that spreads warmth through my belly.
I’m forced to crane my neck back to keep eye contact with him. Breathing deeply, I suck more of his intoxicating scent into my nostrils, my nose wrinkling at the scent. Not only is he stupid gorgeous, but he also smells like a fucking supermodel.
Who the fuck is this guy?
“The fact that she doesn’t care about you. The fact that you’re here and she still doesn’t want you. Why don’t you face the facts, Ava, no one wants you. No one. You’re an unloved liar.”
He could have slapped me, and it would’ve hurt less than hearing him speak my truths. Curling my hand into a tight fist, I try and tell myself it’s not worth it to punch him in his fucking face, because I really, really want to punch him in the face.
He doesn’t know what my life has been like since that night five years ago, and I guess a part of me should blame him…if he hadn’t dared me…
He leans into my face, his eyes flicker to my lips and for a moment, I think he might kiss me and I kind of want him to. I want to bite his lip, draw his blood, and make him feel the pain that resonates deep within my chest every time I take a breath. But as fast as the thought appears in my mind, it disappears at the sound of his gravelly voice.
“If you were smart, you would leave now. With both our parents gone, there won’t be anyone to protect you…no one to save you from me.”
He can’t possibly be threatening me again, and yet that’s what it sounds like, no, it’s not a threat. It’s a promise.
“I’m not scared of you, Vance. What reason would I have to fear you? And why are you so mad at me anyway? It’s not my fault our parents got married and you got stuck with me for a stepsister,” I sneer, the closeness of his body to mine making me dizzy.
His head tips back and a bitter laugh fills the space. “You think this has to do with our parents getting married?”
My brows knit together in confusion. What the hell else could it be about? I’ve done nothing to him, hell I haven’t even seen him in five years. He must be mentally unstable, conjuring up things inside his head.
When I don’t say anything, he starts to shake his head in disbelief, his body vibrating with rage that reaches inside me and sticks to my bones.
“Liar. That’s what you are. A fucking liar. And guess what, you can’t lie your way out of this one, nothing will save you from me. I’ve seen the truth, heard it first hand and I’ll get my revenge on you, Ava. I’ll hurt you until you beg me to stop.”
“I…” Words lodge in my throat. “I don’t understand.” I blink rapidly, his frame still towering over mine, making me feel as if I’m an inch tall.
“You will soon enough, and if I were you. I would watch my back. You never know when someone’s going to lodge a knife in it.” With one last cold sweep of his eyes, he pushes past me and out the front door. His words leave me feeling cold, and a sliver of fear cuts through me.
Whatever happened to the boy with soft eyes that never stopped smiling?
Chapter Four
Vance
Beads of sweat slip down my face blurring my vision. I hit the punching bag at the gym until my knuckles scream at me to stop and the muscles in my arms shake with exhaustion. The rage inside my veins dull to a low simmer, instead of torrid fire. That lying minx thinks she can come back into my life and play me for a fucking fool. Batting her eyes at me like she is an innocent little girl.
