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Sparks fly through me when I push past Jericho, Arrow, and Shepp, leaving Leighton on the ground. Bellowing about his precious car that he loves to show off, attempting to get anything with a pussy between their legs to ride fast with him. It’s his signature move.
Oh, boohoo you wannabe rapist.
“Need a ride home, Journey?” he asks, leaning against my locker with a grin, dangling his keys in my face. “It goes from zero to one-twenty in eight seconds. It could knock your panties right off, Baby Doll.” Inwardly, I spew my guts at his suggestion.
“I’m good,” I retort, shutting my locker and hoping to lose him. But no dice. He follows so close I swear he’s implanted himself up my ass.
“Come on, Baby Doll. Take a fast ride with me. I can get you all wet and hot and…”
“Does that really work on girls, Leighton?” I sniff, raising my chin. “If I were even interested, I wouldn’t want it to go fucking fast. Slow and steady wins the race, assbag. Now, kindly fuck off for eternity.” With that, I spin on my heel and book it out of the high school before he can register what I said.
On my peaceful walk home toward the trailer park near the middle of town, a loud car rushes by me, splashing water on my dingy shoes. I raise a brow when a middle finger protrudes from the driver’s side window.
Huh. Must have wrecked his little ego.
And now, I’m about to wreck his fucking car. First, my monster, now Leighton, and then the Devils trying to play hero. I’m so goddamn tired of men running my fucking life and ruining it. Or trying to save me. I can do that myself.
This is my life. My fucking body. And my fucking revenge to seek.
“Whoa, whoa, Kitten!” Arrow catches up, stalking beside me as we weave through the crowd and finally make it outside. “What’s the plan?” he asks, rubbing his hands together.
“Just because you ate me like a meal doesn’t mean you can tag along,” I huff, marching toward the monstrosity Leighton calls a sports car.
“And what do you plan on doing, Kitten? Drive it until it doesn’t work anymore?” he asks with a grin evident on his face.
I huff, immediately turning toward him and stopping our advance. “Do you have a plan, Genius?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest.
Because… he makes a fair point. To be honest, I didn’t have a plan. I wanted to scare the ever-living shit out of Leighton by taking his keys, but beyond that? I don’t have a clue. I’m more prone to hanging in the background and collecting information. Not banging up expensive cars for a good time.
Arrow grins. “Kitten, I have the right tools for you.” He holds up a finger before disappearing down the long driveway filled to the brim with cars from the other party-goers.
“I’ve taken care of Leighton,” Jericho says in a smooth voice, sauntering up to me without a hair out of place.
His fancy clothes aren't even wrinkled when he stops beside me, eyeing my stiff stance.
“I didn’t ask you to,” I growl, clenching my teeth.
“You didn’t have to, Little Chaos,” he says, assessing my body. “Now, I want you to tell me every little detail of what Leighton did.” He rolls his wrist like a jackass, egging me on to divulge the lengths of my trauma with Leighton.
“What gives you the right?” I ask, turning to him and squaring my shoulders.
Right now, he's not the mafia heir. He's the asshole who thinks he has the right to climb inside my skin and know everything about me.
“The right?” he chuckles, stepping up to me. “Everything about you gives me the fucking right. You’re mine.” A possession I haven’t seen before rests in his dark eyes. “I claimed you. Don’t you remember when you rode my fingers in the middle of the dance floor? Or when your cum soaked my flesh? I marked you as mine when I sunk my teeth into your neck and left a beautiful reminder of our time together.”
Fuck. His words shouldn’t affect me as much as they do. He smirks. I’m sure my pupils dilate remembering that time together. But I’ve been satisfied tonight. I came on Arrow's face like a champ. So, his pretty words can’t make my pussy weep for him. Not right now.
Instead, I raise my chin in defiance, looking the Devil in the eyes.
“I am no one’s,” I hiss, poking at his chest hard with my index finger.
He doesn't budge. Not even an inch. He just stands there staring at me with unblinking eyes. Every emotion seems to vanish from his chiseled face.
A strangled noise comes from Shepp when he shakes his head, signing something to Jericho. Quicker than lightning, Jericho’s fingers wrap around my throat, and he pulls me into him.
I shiver in his grip. For some reason, I don't feel threatened in the least. Sure, there’s fury on his face, reddening it with every second that passes. But he doesn’t want to harm me. He simply wants to control me.
And that fucking pisses me off.
