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Abi jerked back when the door opened, her eyes shooting flames at the woman who walked into the room. I turned away from them both, discreetly adjusting my throbbing cock, and grabbed my messenger bag.
“Oh, hello,” Brenda Lynch greeted, sounding cordial, but there was something in her voice that put me on alert. “Abi, isn’t it? You were in my intro class last semester.”
When I glanced back, Abi had a tight smile on her face. I disliked that smile. It was fake, almost pained. My new demon, my psychotic conscience, clawed at the confines of my mind, wanting to be released. Needing to destroy this woman who had the ability to make my wildfire doubt my devotion to her. “Hi, Professor.”
Lynch looked at me as she walked deeper into the classroom, getting closer to taking her last breath with each step she took in Abi’s direction, dismissing the younger woman without another glance. “Victor, I was hoping to continue our conversation from last night.”
Hurt filled Abi’s face, causing a riot of insanity to bounce around inside my skull. I had to rein in the immediate impulse to break Lynch’s neck. She wasn’t important. Abi was. So was making her understand that she had nothing to worry about. But before I could reach for her, she was already moving toward the door. “Excuse me. I have…something,” she muttered, her voice trembling slightly.
The door slamming behind her echoed in my ears. I stabbed my fingers through my hair, agitation spiking higher. Need to follow her. Hold her. Need to make her understand. Only her. There will only ever be her.
Lynch dared to step into my path.
My hand wrapped around her throat hard, turning her smile into a frightened gasp. A waste of a last breath. “You should have made smarter life choices,” I snarled, my anger turning my voice to ice. She tried to gulp, her nails desperately raking at my hand in a weak attempt to get free.
“Did you think making my sweet girl think I was interested in you was a good decision?” I tilted my head to the left, tsking in disappointment. “Was hurting her worth losing everything?”
She made a choking sound, her nails sinking deep into my forearm through my shirt. I grinned down at her, malevolent, sinister; the tears leaking from her eyes were oddly amusing to me. All the new emotions that swirled around inside me after decades of being absent, nonexistent, were taking time to identify and label. But every day, I uncovered something new—something that made me understand my sister a little better.
My anger amusing me would have been worrisome, but I’d watched Samara for too long to question if it was the correct way to express the volatile emotion. She almost always had a smile on her face when she unleashed her inner psycho.
Fuck, I’d have to get rid of two bodies today. Morris, I’d already made plans for. I knew how long it would take to kill and then dispose of his body. I’d already estimated what time I would get to climb into bed with Abi that night.
Lynch had thrown off my time-management schedule. It would take extra hours to deal with her. Which meant more time away from my wildfire. Less time getting to hold her.
My rage became an inferno, and not even Lynch’s face rapidly turning purple could calm me. “How would Samara end you?” I mused aloud. “If she knew you’d made Abi so much as flinch, she would help me. But she would have made you scream. You got lucky. I’m the silent monster in the family.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
abi
Kingston Hannigan winked at Sammy as he placed my dinner plate on the table. “Two pretty girls gracing my fine establishment on a Friday night. How did I get so lucky?”
Sammy picked up a fry and threw it at his head. Laughing, he caught it in midair in his inked-up paw-like hand and stuffed the fry into his mouth, his green eyes full of amusement. “You aren’t at the bar tonight?”
He picked up her nearly empty glass of Diet Coke. “Ma’s cook called out. Her needs come before those of my dad.” Glancing at my mostly full cup, he lifted a brow, silently asking if I wanted a refill, but I shook my head. “Be right back with your drink, Sammy.”
“Best cook in the whole damn state,” my friend said with a sigh as she watched him walk toward the kitchen.
I nodded, picking up my fork to take a bite of my mashed potatoes. “Do you think there is any cake left? I need chocolate therapy after the day I had.”
She paused with her burger halfway to her mouth, a new kind of tension suddenly vibrating off her that made my skin itch. “Did something happen?”
I bit my lip, not sure if I wanted to share my embarrassing moment with Professor Vaughn that afternoon. No matter how many times I replayed the moment before Professor Lynch interrupted us, I couldn’t help thinking he was going to kiss me. I’d gone back to my dorm, changed into jeans and a hoodie, and walked straight to the library, even though no one else from my study group was there yet.
When I told Hayat what had happened, she’d been adamant he was going to kiss me. But maybe it was wishful thinking. His eyes had lit up when she’d come into the room, and he couldn’t get away from me fast enough.
“Abi, tell me,” Sammy urged, her eyes darkening.
I dropped my fork onto my plate and wiped my mouth with my napkin. “It’s nothing. I just flirted with Professor V and didn’t get the result I wanted.”
“He was rude to you?” she murmured, getting a faraway look in her eyes.
“No. We were interrupted. Another professor came in to speak to him.” I couldn’t keep the burst of jealousy from filling my voice.
As soon as Professor Lynch said his name, I wanted to grab her by the hair and scream in her face. Vaughn was mine. But I’d heard a touch of possessiveness in her voice when she’d called him Victor that suggested he might be hers. “The one I pointed out to you at the coffee shop a while back. Professor Lynch.”
“The frustrated blonde?” I nodded. “What happened after she interrupted? Did he pick her over you?”
