She was resilient, I’d give her that. Most people would just beg and cry in that situation. But she fought back, clinging to that relentless optimism of hers, convinced things would somehow be okay even when the situation was anything but.
Ignorant, that was the word.
Most likely delusional, too.
“Come on, blondie,” I said, stepping into the bathroom and rummaging through the cabinet until I found a first-aid kit. I knew she’d follow; she was too curious not to.
Sure enough, her reflection appeared in the mirror behind me, arms crossed, chin tilted in defiance. Reaching for her, I grabbed her waist and placed her on the edge of the counter beside the sink before she could protest.
“Ryder!” she scowled.
“Violet,” I mimicked, amused when I leaned in just close enough to watch her breath hitch. “Stop squirming.”
I held out a hand, palm up. After a moment’s hesitation, she placed hers in mine. The skin was torn, a thin line of blood with tiny flecks of grit still caught beneath. I started cleaning it gently, the scent of antiseptic sharp in the air. Violet hissed through her teeth, but she didn’t move away.
“You always have to play hero, huh?” I murmured, brushing over the cut with a shake of my head. “Next time, go for the balls. Ends fights faster.”
“You’re one to talk,” she muttered, but her voice had lost its edge. “How are your fists?”
I laughed under my breath. “Trust me, blondie, I’m far from the hero.”
Reaching for her other hand, she gave it up without a word. I could feel the pulse in her wrist, quick, matching mine.
“Thank you,” she said after a moment.
I glanced up, meeting her eyes. “For what?”
She looked so small, sitting there with her hair damp and blood-splattered dress clinging to her curves. “You know, for saving me.”
My grip tightened just slightly, my chest twisting with something I didn’t want to name.
Twice now I’d lost control. Both times because of her. Clearly, she was a menace to society, or at least to me. It made me want to close the distance, to see if the spark between us was real or just another kind of danger.
Which was ridiculous, because the last time I’d kissed her had been a mistake.
One I hadn’t stopped thinking about since.
Fuck.
Violet was testing my control—again—and still, I stepped between her legs like I couldn’t help myself. Herlips parted, soft and inviting, like she could hear every unspoken thought unravelling inside my head.
It was like she was my very own, personal poison. Designed to crack me open and shatter the pieces I’d tried so hard to hold together. Made to ruin me from the inside out.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warned, my voice coming out rougher than I’d meant it to. “You’ll make me think you actually like me.”
She bristled. “I don’t.”
I braced my hands on either side of the counter, leaning forward until my lips almost brushed hers. “Liar.”
Chapter 33
Violet
I thought he was going to kiss me again, but he didn’t.
I wasn’t sure if I was relieved… or disappointed.
“What are you doing?” I asked when he reached for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it off to reveal his chest, each ridge carved muscle. My eyes immediately snapped to his, refusing to acknowledge that I was looking.
