“No,” I sigh, withholding the rest of that sentence.There’s just something wrong with me.“I just need some air.” Air sounds a lot better thanspace. Nodding, Avery tucks her golden hair behind her ear and heads towards Axel’s room. Her fluffy socks are silent on the carpet, her knock soft before she slips inside. Knowing he won’t be alone lessens a sliver of the guilt building in my chest, but then Wyatt steps forward and continues to look me up and down.
“Is there something you want to say, Riot?” I clench my jaw. Unlike my usual, light tone, the nickname is hissed in mockery. Wyatt raises a singular brow but says nothing, pocketing his hands and watching me leave. I encounter the Doc in a large office he seems to have been given the run of. Currently, he’s reclined on a chaise lounge with a book in his hands.
“Aren’t you being paid to do something?” I kick the door with a harsh bang. He doesn’t flinch, regarding me with poised interest. I suppose a doctor should be used to keeping his cool in heightened situations, but he seems a little too relaxed for my liking.
“It certainly isn’t to take orders from you,” he replies. Setting his book aside, Marcus plants his loafers on the floor, standing to be eye level with me. “You should ice that bruise.” My eyes slide aside, ignoring both him and the pulsing ache that has taken root in my cheek.
Not my proudest moment, taking a hit when Axel was laid up in bed, but the other guy came off worse. Every student in the room was staring at me like some kind of God, and he happened to be the one who asked me how he could get some time alone with Axel to pick his brains. As if being molested has become something these weirdos strive for. My fist responded before my mouth could.
I guess I’m still glutton for punishment, the same way I was as a small boy who stubbornly waited for someone to care for him, despite the long-term effects it would cause. Before he woke, I was ready for Axel to be mine, ready to gut myself at his feet and let him piece me back together. I wanted to be exactly the kind of man he’s been begging me to be all these years. But now that both he and Avery have confessed their love for me, it’s become too real. Too fragile to handle with my reckless hands.
Remembering Marcus is still standing before me, his knitted sweater a shade of hunter green today, I roll my tongue over my teeth.
“Can you give Axel a once-over? Check his vitals and all that. Surely it’s best we get him up and restore his strength as soon as possible.” Marcus waits, staring evenly until I grunt. “Please.”
I exit the room, giving him the space to manoeuvre his hulking size through the doorway. Once satisfied, he heads for Axel’s room while I sweep down the staircase, on the hunt for my next fight. Now that the students have left, I thought there would be no one left to cause conflict with. I thought wrong.
Turning the last corner before the kitchen, I barrel straight into Sharon. She collides with my chest, stumbling back on those ridiculously high heels with a startled "oomph," clutching her Louis Vuitton bag like a shield. Her eyes dart to my crotch for a split second before snapping back to my face. I can feel my lip curling in a snarl, a guttural growl simmering in my chest like a panther advancing on its prey.
Slowly, a smile carves across my face, pulling painfully at the welt on my cheek. I’ve been waiting to catch her alone, and now I’m spiraling through hatred and self-doubt, it’s the best possible moment.
I step forward, crowding her against the wall. My hands slam down on either side of her head, caging her in. Her eyes widen, the flicker of fear I’ve been dying to see flashing across her carefully composed features. I lean closer, my breath ghosting over her face as I let the rage sharpen my voice.
“I’ve been waiting years to confront you, Sharon. To make you pay for everything you’ve ever done to him.”
From within the curtain of her straight, dark hair, Sharon’s face twists into an infuriating smirk, but it doesn’t hide the way her throat bobs when she swallows. “If Axel ever wanted the auctions to stop, all he had to do was ask.”
The casual venom in her tone makes my hands curl into fists against the wall. Her manicured nail traces up the center of my chest, scraping along my jaw, sending a shiver of disgust rippling through me. My lungs burn with the effort of keeping myself steady, the words in my head screaming louder than ever.
He was fourteen. You were supposed to protect him, not exploit him.
Somehow, I manage to grab onto the last thread of self-control within my soul to speak somewhat eloquently.
“If Karma doesn’t come for you one day soon, I’m going to flay you alive and roast you on a barbeque. Then I’ll force feed you to every single one of all your pedophilic friends that have ever laid a hand on Axel.”
A shudder ripples through her perfect, tailored pantsuit. The sight makes something primal in me stir, satisfaction clawing its way through my fury. I straighten, stepping back with the kind of smile that could haunt her nightmares, before turning toward the kitchen door. Sharon’s voice, sharp and poised, stops me cold.
“You’re worse for him than I ever was.” The words hit me like a blow to the gut. I whirl around, the fire in my chest reigniting.
“The fuck did you just say?” Sharon’s smug grin is back, her hand resting lazily on her hip like she owns the entire world.
“At least Axel always knew what I wanted from him. We had a transactional relationship.” She tilts her head, her voice dripping with mockery. “You’re dragging him along to prove something to yourself. He’s a passing novelty to you. So tell me, who’s the real abuser here?”
Before I can react, she spins on her heel, her ponytail whipping behind her. She strides away, her confidence slicing through the air like a knife. I stand frozen, my breath caught somewhere between wrath and disbelief. I can’t move, can’t think straight. Heat rushes to my cheeks, shame and rage battling for dominance.
How dare she?!
Red curtains my vision. I want to smash everything in close range and scream. To beat the living shit out of the closest possible person, feel their bones crack, and hear them beg for mercy until the beast within me is sated. Burn this whole mansion to the ground so that Axel can never be dragged back again.
But there’s a darker desire worming its way to the forefront, one that is purely selfish. I want to be punished. I want to feel the retributions of what I’ve failed to do. Keeping Axel safe, keeping the Souls together, and protecting my heart from this constant ache of not being good enough. It’s all too much to bear without an outlet. One that involves whatever pain it takes to root me back to reality.
The rage boils over, needing an outlet before I explode. My fist slamsinto the wall beside me, a burst of raw energy erupting from my knuckles. The impact reverberates up my arm—a sharp, jolting pain that should be enough to make me stop. But it’s not. Not even close.
I hit the wall again, harder this time, my knuckles splitting against the painted surface. The sting is intoxicating, a brief distraction from the hurricane in my chest. Another punch, and then another. The drywall cracks under the pressure, but it isn’t enough to drown out Sharon’s voice still echoing in my head.
You’re worse for him than I ever was. Who’s the real abuser here?
The words sting deeper than any wound I could inflict on myself, but I keep going. Each punch is a release, a fleeting reprieve from the guilt eating me alive. I can’t get the image of Axel limp and bleeding out of my head. He came to my aid and saved my damn life. I can’t punish the asshole who hurt him, but I can punish myself.
