Page 9 of Sweet Oblivion

Her shirt torn and bra showing.

“Lane,” is ripped from my lungs as I try to wake her.

With a shaking hand, I lift her head and pull my hand back to find blood on my palm.

I’m going to kill him.

My vision goes fucking red right as I’m knocked off her.

Dennings slams me to the ground, but I’m not Delaney.

I’m not smaller.

I throw my leg at his chest and kick him off me.

He hurt her.

He hit her.

He made her bleed.

He—

She won’t open her eyes.

Fueled by a rage like I’ve never known, I straddle this sick fuck’s chest and lose myself.

My mind. My control.

Tunnel vision takes over.

His bones crunch beneath my fist, but I don’t stop.

I can’t.

The picture of her unconscious—broken—it’s burned into my brain.

I hit him over and over.

Until my knuckles are bloody and raw, and even then, I don’t stop.

I can’t.

Because when I do, what am I going to find?

Is she?—?

No. She can’t be.

Hands grab me from behind and pull me off.

I swing like a wild animal before I realize it’s Hendrix.

He screams, but I don’t hear him. Can’t read his lips. My brain isn’t processing.

“Stop, man,” he signs. “You’ve got to stop.”

“He hurt her,” I pant as my eyes fly to Delaney. Kaleigh’s next to her, sobbing, and a crowd is forming in the parking lot.