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Everything in her warmed, heated at the sight.
“Are you sure you want to leave?”
Did I just say that? He’s uncomfortable with the conversation, clearly.
“Yeah, I have some things to take care of.” He didn’t look at her, and then he opened the door and left. She stood there for a second, not sure what had happened but knew that her instincts had been right. David didn’t reciprocate her feelings.
At least she found out without declaring her love for someone who didn’t feel the same way.
Chapter
Eight
Controlling himself until he was sure Gillian couldn’t see him was hard as fuck. David didn’t know exactly what she’d wanted to talk about, but relationships sure as shit hadn’t been it.
He’d been driving for the last twenty minutes and decided going into the city was what he needed to do.
She wanted to date, and he couldn’t blame her.
Maybe I should have fucking told her what I wanted, that her seeing anyone else would make me homicidal.
And he would be in a blind, murderous rage if he saw her with another man, if he saw some motherfucker touching her, kissing her.
He tightened his hands on the steering wheel so hard the leather cracked slightly. When he finally got into the city, he went in as deep as he could, going to the seedy, dangerous part. He needed some carnage to release some of the rage that built inside of him.
David pulled the car into a darkened alley, cut the engine, and sat there for a second. He didn’t care where he found some violence just as long as he could get this dark energy out of him, at least for the time being.
Thinking about Gillian with another man infuriated him, and although he tried to play it cool in front of her, he knew she could sense the changes in him. But what she didn’t know was why those changes occurred, why he acted the way he had.
Reaching over to his glove box, he pulled out the set of brass knuckles. They were scuffed and worn. They had been used really fucking well, and tonight would be no different. Tonight, they would be covered in blood.
Grabbing his baseball cap and his jacket from the back of the vehicle, he got out, put the cap on, and slipped the black jacket on, zipping it up. He pulled the brim of the hat down low on his head.
David had the brass knuckles on his hand and curled his fingers toward his palm, feeling the cold, hard metal heat from his skin.
This part of the city was shit, where the scum of the state came, mingled, and became this cesspool of life. It was where he’d get the violence he needed, and it wouldn’t take much at all.
He left the alley knowing full well his vehicle might be in terrible shape when he got back to it, but for what he needed to do tonight, he didn’t give a shit. There was a decent amount of activity on the streets because it was the weekend, and each guy he passed looked like they’d been scraped off the bottom of the barrel.
David’s blood was pumping, adrenaline was rushing through his veins, and he was getting antsy for some action. He kept his hand with the brass knuckles in his pocket and focused on his surroundings.
“Wanna buy some sugar?” a guy said from an alley David was about to pass.
He stopped, looked at the motherfucker, and eyed him up and down. He was on the smaller side, and he alone wouldn’t make much of a fight, but David doubted he was by himself.
There was commotion across the street at the hole-in-the-wall strip club, a fight. But David kept his focus on the guy selling drugs.
“Come on, man. You want some sugar or what?” The drug dealer became agitated, his eyes darting back and forth.
David squeezed his hand into a tighter fist, the metal digging into his flesh.
The other man took a step back, deeper into the alley, so he was now partially covered in shadows.
“If you want something, I got it.” He moved another step into the shadows, and David followed. He was on alert, prepared, though. He didn’t do drugs, but looking at this piece of shit’s eyes, a man who most likely dealt to anyone, regardless of age, told David he wouldn’t mind throwing down.
The sound of another guy coming closer had David glancing over his shoulder. The man most likely had been hiding behind the dumpster. These guys weren’t just drug dealers. They jumped people and robbed them when the deals were going down.
“Whatchu want?”
David looked at the first guy again.
“I don’t think this prick wants anything but trouble,” the second guy said.
At least they were smart enough to realize that. David rolled his head around his neck, felt his blood rush faster as his heart pumped harder. He was ready, needed this rage, needed to feel his fist slamming into a fucker’s face.
