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I shrug him off as I continue scowling at Polly.
“You want me to choose one so you can have the other?” I sneer, getting into her face, totally ignoring her personal space.
She gasps, taking a small step back, obviously frightened by my rage.
But she can go to hell.
They all can.
“Well…fuck you all because I choose me. You can have them both.”
I shoulder past her before I say something else I’ll regret.
“What am I doing?” I whisper to my only friend in the world.
Lucky whines before leaning forward and licking my cheek in support.
“Thanks, boy,” I coo, resting my head on his mane.
This is so fucked up.
Actually, it’s beyond fucked up, and at the moment, I would happily turn myself over to my dad to escape this situation.
Polly is lucky I didn’t knock her damn teeth out.
I’m not stringing Tristan and Quinn along.
Or am I?
I’m baffled when thinking back to the feelings I felt for Tristan in the woods because I don’t know what that was. I’ve never been in love with one, let alone two boys before, so maybe I am stringing them both along?
Throwing the pillow over my face, I scream into it, needing to get some of this rage out before I see Quinn.
I’ve been in hiding for about two hours, hoping the time away will give me the willpower to not want to kill the inhabitants of this house. So far, it’s not working.
A knock on the bedroom door only adds to my irritability.
“Mia?” Tristan asks from outside my door.
“What?” I reply, throwing the pillow to the ground.
When he remains silent, I shout, annoyed, “What do you want, Tristan?”
“It’s Quinn.” That’s his simple reply, and I quickly sit up as he’s got my full attention.
“What about him?”
“He’s going to drive into town.”
“What?Now?” I snap, jumping off the bed and charging toward him.
As I open the door, Tristan’s pale complexion has me softening a fraction.
“What’s going on?”
“After you stormed off, he lost it, and I thought he was just going to blow off some steam. But he’s adamant he’s driving into town to call Chandler, as he needs to get the hell away from here.”
“Hide the keys,” I order, though I know that won’t stop a determined Quinn.
