I may as well be a volcano erupting, with lava searing through my veins, my pulse hammering in my ears, heat rising so fast I can barely breathe. My hands are clenched so tightly that my nails dig into my palms, but I don’t feel it. All I feel is betrayal, frustration, and sheerrageburning through me.
And right now, irrational or not, I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to hear whatever goddamn excuse Colt’s about to throw my way.
I want to beanywherebut here.
Anna looks at me before I storm out of the penthouse and toward the suite where I confessed my love for Colt this morning.
I did this—to him, to us.
I’ve pushed him away.
A fresh wave of tears falls down my cheeks as I press the key card to the reader for the door, frantically trying to get inside, when a hand grabs my arm and spins me around forcefully. I look up at Colt, who’s panic-stricken as he takes hold ofboth my arms in a vice grip. Any composure I may have had, I’ve completely lost. My head is frazzled, and I can’t think of anything other than the image of him rearranging his fucking cock.
His mouth crashes into mine, and I shake my head violently to get him off of me. I struggle in his grip and try to push him away.
“Dee!” he yells as I cry and push frantically, attempting to get him away from me. I bring my knee up, but his body is against mine, pressing me hard against our suite door, so it doesn’t connect.
I can’t control my emotions, gasping for breath.
I’m hyperventilating.
My eyes are so full of tears that I can’t even see his face anymore.
“Dee. Baby. Stop,” he whispers in a soothing voice that only calms me for a second, and then my fury is back. My arm gets free of his grip, and I try to push him away, but he’s too strong. “Fuck, baby, please. C’mon, it’s not what you think.” He takes my face in his hands, and I immediately grasp at his wrists, trying to move his hands away from me, but nothing I do equals his strength.
“Not what I think?Not what I think?You got hard for another girl minutes after I told you I’m in love with you. Now let me go,” I scream at the top of my lungs.
Anna and Johnny walk out of the penthouse suite, and Anna’s hand shoots to her mouth as Johnny rushes to us. But instead of calming me with their presence, I continue to struggle against Colt.
“Dee, it’s not like that. Will you stop and listen?”
“What’s there to say, Colt?” I scream, struggling against him again so forcefully that my hand is freed, and I bring it up and think hard about slapping him across his face, but my hand fallsaway. He grunts and grabs my shoulders tightly, shaking me a little. I’m so past rational that I want to claw his goddamn face off.
Driven by pure fury, frustration roars through me, and I pound on his chest, shoving, pushing, trying to get him away from me.
“Dee, stop,” he grits out, grabbing my wrists. His grip is firm, unyielding, holding me still.
Panic flares in my chest. My hands are trapped, but my legs aren’t. I slam my foot into his shin.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his grip slipping just enough for me to yank one arm free. I shove him with everything I have, and this time, he stumbles back.
Colt exhales sharply—then his fist flies up.
I flinch.
He doesn’t hit me.
His knuckles crash into the door next to my head with a force so brutal it makes the wood crack. The sound reverberates through the room, freezing me in place, my breath caught in my throat. His frustration with me is more than obvious now. I know he wasn’t trying to hit me, but he has reached his limit.
“Jesus, Colt. What the fuck are you doing?” Johnny rushes in, grabbing Colt and shoving him back.
Anna’s arms wrap around my shoulders, grounding me, but my pulse is still wild, my body still locked in fight mode.
Colt shakes his head, dragging his fingers through his hair, his frustration rolling off him in waves.
But I can’t focus on that.
Not when my own hands are still shaking.
