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Rook’s jaw clenches. "He’s going through a lot right now. It’s not his fault. But he’ll flip his shit if he hears you talking."
Angry footsteps grow closer.
They’re menacing and cruel, oppressive in their volume.
I make myself small on the bed, praying he won’t know that I’m in here. I silently beg Brock and Rook to keep their voices down so we don't upset Colt. Nate sometimes got into moods like this where the slightest thing would set him off. God forbid you sneezed in the house while he was pissy. He’d never let you hear the end of it. Sometimes, I believed that he’d put his hands on me and beat me. He possessed that kind of chaotic energy. Other times, he even threatened to go postal and kill himself. He didn’t follow through on this, and I doubt he would’ve actually done it, but the thought of being responsible for his death after I’d already lost my mother was too much. I stayed quiet to keep everyone safe.
Colt throws open my bedroom door.
He snarls when he sees Brock and Rook cuddling me.
"Too late."
Colt
"Listen to me, little bitch. You didn’t send me a single text after I wrote you that poem. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you hurt my feelings.You will pay."
Olivia screams on her bed, latching onto Brock and Rook as if they’ll protect her. "I read your poem a dozen times! I loved it!"
"Fucking liar." Fury pounds my skull with iron fists. My Queen has no idea how much I put into that poem. How difficult it was for me to write. "Opening up around you isn’t easy. You don't have to make it this harder for me."
Olivia grabs something from her breast, which is slick and damp. She lifts it out to me, an offering of desperation. I recognize it as my poem.
Anger.
Fury.
Hatred.
Rage.
Each emotion claws at my insides using needlepoints for fingernails.
Blood seeps out of the wounds under my skin and congeals in my core.
I haven’t been this fucking angry since Chelsie disappeared.
My investigator is giving me shit and asking questions they have no business asking.
Most furiously, I can’trememberso much of my past.
That’s what aggravates me the most.
Who the fuck did I used to be before Chelsie’s abduction changed everything?
Was I the nice normal boy who enjoyed normal things?
Or have I always been a monster?
I march toward Olivia, my steps unwavering as I prepare to discipline this manipulative little cunt. She plants her head on Rook’s chest, closing her eyes like children do when they want to pretend there’s no monster under their bed. For a second, I think about how innocent and vulnerable she really is. Christ, this girl had no idea what she walked into when I claimed her at that frat party. I’ll wreck her.
My cock is a vessel of pure terror.
My soul is as dark as the ink that gave life to my poem.
I heave Olivia into my mammoth arms, then carry her bratty ass to the balcony. She thrashes against me, hitting my thighs to convince me to let her go.
I thrust her body against the railing and get all up in her face.
