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Flashing her a spiteful grin, I take a deep drag off my revenge cigarette and release the smoke in one blow. “You walk, or I put this cigarette out in Blake’s gas tank, and we can both enjoy the flicker in his eyes.”
Reese’s eyes lock on mine in fear.
Yeah. I fucking saw you.
“It’s not what you think,” she starts, but I’ve had enough. I’m done with her lies and her excuses.
“Walk,” I repeat. “I won’t ask you again.”
Did I not warn her this morning? Did I not tell her what would happen if she asked for help?
“It’s not what you think.”
It’s never what I fucking think and always what I know—the smell of betrayal.
“I hate you.”
“And yet your hardened nipples suggest otherwise.”
Reese may fool Blake with her fake persona, but I know the woman she is to her core. She loves the hate in me. My vengeful words are her personal lullaby.
“People will stop you. They won’t let you chase me with your car.”
My brow rises. “Your expectation of others has improved. Tell me, love, has Blake filled your black heart with promises of a better life?” I cluck my tongue. “You should know better. People like us never get happy endings.”
“You don’t know that,” she argues pitifully.
“You’re right. I have been wrong before. I’ll amend my statement and say you might have gotten your happily ever after before you betrayed me.”
She rolls her eyes defiantly but doesn’t offer to feed me more lies. “The police will pull you over. They will ask why I’m walking in front of your car.”
This again. “All right, love. Since you seem to take exception to my punishment, I’ll offer you another.” I nod to the car next to us. “Lie face down over the hood of that car.”
“That’s Blake’s car.” She gasps.
“It is, and after he sees my hand ripen your ass cheeks to a beautiful pink, he’ll never forget that you belong to me.”
Her eyes widen. “That’s archaic. I’m not a possession.”
“You’re correct. You’re a prisoner.”
“No! Last night, you admitted I was your wife, not your prisoner.”
It takes all my strength not to fly into a rage and burn this entire college down. “That was before you left my bed and ran into another man’s arms.”
“For fuck’s sake, Van. I didn’t run into his arms. We were having a conversation.”
“That ended with a kiss.”
My words stop her cold. “Oh, my.” A wide smile plumps her cheeks. “Tell me it isn’t so. Is the infamous Van Gogh jealous of a commoner?”
I scoff. “That would delight your simple mind, I’m sure, but no. I’m not jealous of your college boy toy. I merely like to remind my prisoners that they are never free.”
“Bullshit.” She lets out this very unladylike snort and doubles over, dragging breaths between fits of laughter. “You are jealous. Big, bad Van Gogh is jealous over a business major.”
That’s it. Fuck it. I’ve had enough of her mouth for today.
Throwing the car into park, I barrel out of the vehicle, grab her by the upper arm, and haul her over the hood of fuck boy’s car.
