He laughs, and it’s the most menacing laugh I’ve ever born witness to. If this was a movie, you couldn’t make it any more cliché. A course of shivers ripples through my body, and my throat seizes up, my lungs stop working, and I’m struggling to breathe, as an intense anxiety attack grips hold of me.
“I’m almost tempted to take you with me,” he says, slowly removing his hand from my breast. “But letting you live, for now, serves a greater purpose.” His hand glides down over my ass, and he tugs at my skirt, ripping through the layers of tulle to palm the bare cheeks of my ass before grabbing hold of my crotch from behind. He digs his fingers in, rubbing his hard-on against my ass, and I almost puke. Tears roll silently down my cheeks, and I want to die. In this moment, I seriously consider asking him to dig the knife into my flesh and end it all.
He continues to rub against me, pawing at my pussy, and tears streak down my face.
“Tell Ryder the next time he ignores me, you won’t be so lucky.”
I gasp as a sharp, pulling pain wrenches across my neck. Grabbing hold of my throat, he lifts me up off the ground with my legs dangling in the air. He squeezes hard, and black dots distort my vision. When he lets go of me, I plummet to the ground, my vision blurring as I crash onto the asphalt, a jolt of pain rattling through my skull and zipping up my spine.
I lie on my side, groaning as my hands automatically fly to my neck. Warm liquid coats my fingers, and I tremble, more terrified than I’ve ever been in my life. Pulling one hand away, I inspect my bloody fingers in shock.
He cut me! The bastard cut me!
That’s the last conscious thought I have, and with the sound of his retreating footsteps echoing in the background, I escape into darkness.
34
Ryder
“Get the fuck away from me.” I glare at Ashley, grabbing her hand before she reaches my cock. She laughs, throwing her hair over her shoulder, slapping me in the face with it. “I said get off me,” I grit out, losing patience fast.
“What the hell’s your problem?” She twists around on my lap, and I get up, letting her slide to the ground before she can make any more moves on me.
“You’re my fucking problem,” I snarl, ignoring the way my head spins as I try to focus on her face. How the hell I ever thought she was pretty is a mystery. She looks like bad judgment and regret, and I’ve just swallowed a second helping.
My head jerks up in the direction of where Zeta went fleeing, and a horrible pain slices through me as the image of her devastated face flits before my mind’s eye. And then some douche appeared out of nowhere to comfort her, and I saw red all over again. I was two seconds away from charging up there when Mike took control of the situation. I know I can trust him to keep her safe, but it should be me.
I should be the one by her side, and the reason I’m not is all on me.
The damage is already done, and I have no one to blame but myself.
What the fuck have I done? I cradle my head in my hands, closing and then rapidly opening my eyes, when the world starts shifting. My veins are buzzing, blood thrumming in my ears, and my limbs are jittery, restless. My mind is whirling in a million different directions, and I can’t stabilize it fast enough to form a coherent thought. I start pacing, grabbing handfuls of my hair, craving an outlet for the wired-up mess twisting my insides into knots.
“Ryder, baby.” Ashley’s hands slide around my waist, and I shove her off instantly.
Turning around, I pin her with my most venomous look. “Do not touch me. Do not talk to me. And, most certainly, do not call me baby.”
“But … what was that? I thought—”
“You were a means to an end. One I already regret, so fuck off and manipulate some other sad fucker.” I can’t believe I just pulled that shit with Zeta. Or that I used Ashley to do it.
I deserve to lose her, because that was the shittiest of shitty moves. But the rage burning through my limbs at the thought of that asshole with his hands on my girl, mixed with the poison swirling through my veins, forced all logical thought out of my brain.
I was hurting. And I wanted to hurt her too.
Well, mission accomplished, jackass.
In a fast move, Ashley grabs a drink off the table, flinging the contents at me. Sticky, amber-colored liquid drips down my face and over my chest. Security for the event approaches our table in a flash. “Mr. Stone. Is there a problem here?”
“Yes,” I say, yanking my T-shirt up, using it to wipe the wetness off my face. “Can you get rid of the trash.” I jab my finger at Ashley.
“Come with me, miss.” He gestures for her to walk ahead of him, and the serious look on his face shows he means business. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he adds, when she doesn’t budge.
“Fuck you, Ryder.” She shoves me. “And fuck you too!” She lunges for the poor man only doing his job, but he sidesteps her, pulling her hands behind her back and forcing her to move forward. She screams bloody murder, drawing attention, and it takes three security personnel to drag her from the room.
“I hope you’re happy now, you stupid prick,” Scott says, glaring at me. “I can’t believe you just did that. With Ashley of all people. I’ve known you to act foolishly before but never to be so petty and juvenile.”
“Fuck off. We can’t all be choir boys like you.” How dare he sit there looking all sanctimonious.
