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She was alone. I caught the look in her eyes.
I wasn’t.
I had friends all around me. Kira was actively trying to befriend me.
My cousins were here.
She was on the bottom of the social ladder, and I wasn’t. We were both aware of how our positions had changed, and I knew that I could hurt her, right then and there.
I was walking through the patio door. She was unprotected in that very instance. She knew that much, and in the time it took me to close the door, I considered it.
I wouldn’t let it get out of hand. I was salivating over it, let her feel a tenth of what I felt when she put it on her social media about me, about Max, about my ex who took my father away, about how I felt feeling him violating me here, in Pine River, where it was supposed to be my sanctuary, but the truth was that I could never outrun my past.
Would never be able to.
He’d always catch up to me.
What he did to me, who he took from me, and I’d have to live with that. I’d have to deal with it, but in that split second, I wanted to put some of that pain on her.
But what I did instead was close the door, let her meet my gaze, hold it, and I raised my chin up. I asked, “How does it feel?”
She swallowed, turning to me, her hands holding a plate of food in front of her. Her chin wobbled and her hands shook as she held onto that plate. “How does what feel?”
“To be vulnerable?” I moved forward a step, knowing it was perfect timing.
How a predator feels when they had their prey cornered.
I was feeling that way now. It was liberating. Addictive.
It also wasn’t right, and I knew that, but I was holding off from dropping this moment.
Just a little.
I wanted her to get a window into what she gave me.
She swallowed again, dropping the plate to the counter because she couldn’t hold it steady anymore.
Yes. She was feeling it.
Good.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She was lying. Her voice was unsteady too.
One more step. I wanted to draw this out, just one more second.
I raised my chin higher. “This. Right now. What you’re feeling. You’re scared.”
She reached behind her, holding onto the counter.
We were both feeling the undercurrents. The vibe you get when you turn down an alley and your gut tells you no, it’s not safe. She was feeling it. So was I.
I was the one bringing it to the surface. “You know that I could humiliate you. I could say something in just the right tone, in just the right way, and others would come in. They wouldn’t even know why they’re coming, but they’d join me. They’d taunt you in a way that they’d laugh later, saying you couldn’t take a joke. But they would know, deep down, just like you would, like I would, that this would be done to hurt you, to cut you deep inside, and they’d do that with me.” I had to end this.
But I liked feeling this way . . .
I wanted to keep going. I wanted to do what I was saying.
I just wanted to hurt her.
Then I felt the prick on the back of my neck.
Him. Scout. It was the same feeling I always got when he was near, and I looked up, seeing him just coming in from the front entryway. Cohen was with him and almost walked right into Scout when he stopped short.
His nostrils flared, as if he could sense what was going on between Gabby and me. He asked, his voice low, cautious, “What are you doing?”
My gut came alive. Anger filled it, and I switched targets. “What do you care?” I shot at him.
His eyes narrowed.
“Whoa.” Cohen took a step to the side, toward Gabby.
Now the undercurrents were there, between Scout and me, flowing back and forth. And these grew charged, a dangerous vibe adding to them.
Gabby drew in a breath.
I said to Scout, “This is none of your business.”
His gaze went to Gabby for a split second before coming back to me and staying on me. He was dismissing her. She wasn’t important. I was, and he raised his head up a fraction of an inch. “She’s friends with Amalia. Watch whatever you’re doing.”
My gut was really flaring alive.
The charge that was going between us was sparking something else inside me, something I wasn’t sure what it was, what I was feeling, but I’d never felt this before. I felt alive, in a way that was foreign to me. Something dark. Something powerful.
Exhilarating.
Like now that he was here, I’d found my real challenge.
Gabby wasn’t a worthy adversary.
Scout was.
Scout was stepping up to the plate, one that I was hungering for that I hadn’t realized until now, until I unlocked some of my darkness. Because I was so goddamn sick of being the one that got hurt. I wanted to hurt someone else, if only one time.
