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When I’m close enough to touch her, I reach out a finger and tenderly brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You mean the letter you wrote before you went off to gangbang three other men for the rest of the summer?” My laugh is cold, caustic, as it bounces off the books surrounding us and causes Emilia to shudder. “I thought it was, but it’s just not enough.”
Her slap comes out of left field, taking me completely by surprise, as my dick throbs behind the confines of my jeans. My left cheek burns with the sting as my lip curls up in an angry snarl.
“No, Wilder.” Her words are a sharp order this time, but I ignore them, grabbing her by the throat and wrenching her toward me. Suffocating any further objections, I slam my lips on hers, stealing the very air from her lungs as she wriggles against me, banging her ineffectual fists against my chest.
I shove her backward until she smacks into the bookcase, my weight pinning her against it as I swallow her grunt of pain. I maul at her lips. Wrenching her arms above her head, I hold them in place with one hand while the other attacks her clothing, pulling and tugging until buttons spring free.
Once I’m done wrestling her shirt open, I move to her pants. As I shove them over her ass, Emilia bites down on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
Snarling, I pull back, the copper tang flooding my mouth.
"I saidno, Wilder," she snaps, livid. "I won’t let you treat me like this anymore.”
I let loose a humorless laugh. “And who’s going to stop me?”
She stares up at me as though she doesn’t recognize the person in front of her. I’m sure she doesn’t, but this is the real me—the Wilder that existed before her and the Wilder that returned in her absence. The same Wilder who crawled his way out of that fire, skin scorched and bubbling, a twisted mass of burning flesh.
This is themewho was left to rot on this earth. I’m finally fucking welcoming him and the ghosts in and accepting that this is who I am. Who I was always destined to be.
And it would be best if Emilia ran far, far away from everything I am.
Blinding pain batters the front of my face as something warm and wet gushes from my nose. "What the fuck?" I sputter between mouthfuls of blood, raising my hand to touch the tender bridge of my nose. “Did you just headbutt me?”
In my distraction, Emilia wiggles free, delivering another slap to my face. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but we are done with this bullshit,” she bites out aggressively, jabbing me in the chest with a pointy finger. “I am not the cause of all your problems, and you need to grow the fuck up and accept that. Stop blaming me. Stop pushing me away. Stop doing whatever the fuck it is that you’re doing. This self-sabotage bullshit is getting old.”
When she pushes me in the shoulders, I stumble backward and can only watch as she walks away, taking the last bit of warmth and light with her.
* * *
"Robbie!"I bellow, banging on his office door. After my failed whatever the fuck I was doing with Emilia, I cleaned myself up and, instead of heading to class, came back here. Deciding I wasn’t fucking leaving until I had some answers.
“Robbie!”
“Jesus Christ,” he growls, yanking the door open. “What the fuck, Wilder? The entire floor can hear you!”
Like I give a shit. Shoving my shoulder into his, I barge past him into the office.
“Have you seen the news?”
He stares at me like I’ve lost my goddamn mind, and maybe I have. His eyes zero in on the split skin across the bridge of my nose. “What happened to you?”
I don’t answer. It’s none of his fucking business, and it’s not why I’m here. The silence ticks by until he eventually sighs and asks, “What is this about?” as he shuts the door and moves behind his desk.
“That politician guy is dead,” I exclaim, standing rooted in front of his desk. “The one you told me to get files on from Nocturnal Enterprises.”
“The King’s Elite wanted you to get those files. I was simply the messenger,” he clarifies, as if that’s the goddamn point. I don’t give a shit what his role was.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I deadpan. “You told me to get those files. Files that gaveyouall the information you needed to get past his security detail, and I’m supposed to believe the King’s Elite had nothing to do with it?”
Ironing out a non-existent wrinkle in his suit, Robbie lifts his steely eyes to mine. Everything about him is shut down, giving nothing away, including his carefully neutral tone. “I didn’t say the King’s Elite had nothing to do with it. I’m sayingIhad nothing to do with it.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave off his excuses. “You’re just a grunt, a fuckingmessenger. A middleman sent to give me orders soIcan do the dirty work for you.”
Robbie’s face darkens, his expression turning cold. "The King’s Elite are the reason you can live in fucking la la land, prancing about doing god knows what, rather than grinding yourself to dust just to rub two pennies together. They’re the ones responsible for the cushy existence you have; they're the ones working tirelessly behind the scenes to ensure the economy as we know it ticks by seamlessly."
His harsh tone is like a slap to the face, stopping the rest of my tirade. “Thatpoliticianyou’re all tied up in knots over, do you even know what his agenda was? What he would have done if he’d been elected?”
“No,” I hesitantly say, suddenly wishing I followed politics.
