And who the fuck was that person who touched my alpha and does he have a death wish?
I might not enjoy killing, but it doesn't mean I won’t if I have to. And I think someone touching what’s mine is a very good fucking reason.
I watch as Tatum heads through the crowd, people cheering and calling after him until he disappears towards the back.
Knowing damn well I should leave, but not listening to any voice of reason inside my fucked up brain, I follow after him.
Let’s hope he likes me enough not to kill me when he finds out I’ve been following him all night.
TATUM
The high of beating the shit out of someone in front of an audience, and winning, is incredibly addictive. The adrenaline makes me feel almost dizzy as I walk with a grin to the locker room.
Fighting is rarely personal for me. It’s more a release valve for my anger. I’m high strung as it is, and Beckham refusing to give me the time of day is pissing me off.
When I’m angry, I get really petty, and that’s reflected in my behavior during my last class with him. Would I have shown that dirty sketch I drew to the class?
Absolutely not. Beckham didn’t know that though, which is why I used it to rile him up. Everything has to be on his schedule, and the way he wants.
It’s fucking with me, because my other pack mates have had their time with him. It makes me feel unwanted.
Is it possible Beckham doesn’t want me? Am I going to be forced to watch him with my best friends while I’m forgotten?
Dragging my fingers through the tangle of my dark curls, I have to force myself not to ask my dad for another fight. He’d do it because he knows I’m struggling. I just know it’ll cost me a very uncomfortable conversation.
He’s worried about me, and I know Jamie and Alaric are as well. I feel like I’m fucking spiraling out of control, which makes me a liability. I need to lock my shit down.
My palm slaps against the door of the locker room as I push it open, ready to throw on my clothes and leave. I’ll shower at home, and hope that my bad mood gets better.
Otherwise, I might piss Alaric off and he’ll make me go for a run with him before fucking me against a tree. That actually doesn’t sound awful now that I think about it…
“Tatum.”
A clipped voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I blink owlishly as I see that Beckham is standing there with his arms crossed.
“Hmm. Apparently, if I think about you hard enough, you’ll appear. Fucking wonderful,” I mutter. “I’ll have to make sure not to make that mistake again.”
Pushing off my shorts, I make a point of mooning the fucker as I walk to my bag.
“Why…fuck me,” he groans out. When I glance up, his face appears tortured as he inhales deeply. “Aren’t you going to shower?”
“Nope. Alaric likes to lick the sweat off me when he sucks my cock,” I reply, watching for a reaction. I begin to unwrap my hands as I wait, flexing my fingers instinctively.
He’s dressed differently than usual, in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. I can see his cock straining against his zipper, and it makes me smirk as I stare at it.
“Stop staring at my cock,” he grunts. “The idea of everyone knowing how good you smell is annoying to me. You should shower.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” I shrug. “You’ve made it quite clear that I’m no one and nothing to you?—”
“I haven’t!” Beckham yells over me. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with a child.”
“I think your and my definition of a child are very different,” I snark, my cock getting harder the longer we talk. “Maybe I should just ask my father for another fight.”
“You’re not fighting,” he growls. “I won’t deny how good you look when you’re destroying someone, but you shouldn’tbe putting yourself through that kind of shit. Your lip is split. Dammit, I just noticed.”
“Watch me a lot, huh?” I tease him, wincing as I lick my lip. Shit, that’s going to sting for a while. I try to pretend it doesn’t hurt as I toss the tape into the garbage can, shrugging as I do. “I’ve been fighting for a long time. It makes me really good money, and helps when life gets overwhelming. The crowd loves me, even when others couldn’t care less.”
Beckham flinches, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. His feelings aren’t mine to protect, not when he ignores mine.
