Brutal Kiss

He sits down at the table and sighs. “I wish I could, princess, but I have a job to do. Now, since I’m not cooking, you’d better get started. I’m starving.”

That does it. That sets me off. All this shit, all this anger, all his teasing, it makes me explode. I sit up and stare at him like the bastard lost his damn mind, and he’s grinning at me like he thinks he’s the funniest guy in the entire world, and all I want to do is strangle him. Tears spring into my eyes, and I’m blinking them back rapidly.

“You arrogant piece of shit,” I say, getting to my feet. I’m trembling now, practically shaking. “I never, ever wanted to see you again, but here you are, forcing yourself back into my life. And now you’re making jokes about me cooking dinner for you? You’re drinking in front of me after what happened? Get the hell out of my apartment, Rian. You got fucked up, blacked out wasted, you got behind the wheel of a car, and you killed my fucking best friend. You murdered her because you were too hammered, and you think you should drink in front of me? I hate you, Rian.”

The words hang in the air between us. His face twists for a moment like I kicked him in the teeth, but he quickly gets control and gently slides the drink aside. He watches me for several heartbeats, and I stay still, utterly seething, on the edge of losing it even worse or forcing myself to calm down.

“We can keep going over and over this as much as you like, but we’re both hungry, and since I’m banned from the kitchen—”

That makes the choice for me, and all my rage bursts out.

“You prick. You stupid asshole. God, you murdering, lying piece of trash, I hate you so much. I fucking hate you so goddamn much. If you could’ve just stayed sober that night, Megan wouldn’t be dead right now, you asshole. My best friend wouldn’t be gone if you hadn’t gotten hammered and stolen her from me, and you have the audacity to pour that shit into your face right now? You’re a liar, Rian. Everything you ever said was a lie. Look at you now. You’re the guy you never wanted to be, and it makes me sick.” Tears stream down my face, but I can’t fight them anymore.

He stiffens at that and his smile falters. He tilts his head to the side as I stand there breathing hard and crying like an idiot. “I’m a lot of things,” he says after visibly controlling himself, “but I am not a liar.”

“You think so? I remember all the nice shit you used to say. How you wanted to be better than the clans. How you had hopes and dreams like me and Megan. Did you know Meg used to tell me you were one of the good ones? She used to tell me to date you. And I fucking wanted to date you, too. How sick is that? I’m mortified. I’m so embarrassed thinking about it now. You fooled me, and you fooled her, and you murdered her. You kissed me, then you murdered her. You killed my best friend, and now you’re back in my life like none of it happened. But I remember you, and I know you’re a lying sack of trash.”

He slams the glass down onto the table. Vodka splashes over the rim. I flinch, a sudden jolt of sharp fear racing through my guts. The tears stop, replaced with adrenaline. His face is serious, but there’s no anger in his eyes. He’s only looking at me, a little bit curious, a little bit impatient. He slams the glass down again, spilling more, and stands.

“Call me what you want, princess. You remember things very different from me, and that’s okay. But I’m not a liar. I never once lied to you.”

“And yet here you are, living, breathing proof that you did. Look at you, Rian. You’re a fucking clan thug like the rest of them.” I know I’m out of line, but I can’t help myself. It’s one thing to insult him for what he did, but another to throw shade on what he’s become. “I wish you died instead of her.”

He looks back at me for three long beats of my heart before staring away, down at the puddle of vodka on my table.

“You think I haven’t wanted that a thousand times since it happened?” he says, stepping toward me with a sudden vicious snarl. I move back on instinct like he’s a wild animal about to snap for my throat. I stare at him in surprise, and the pain and rage that twists his face is like something from another world. He visibly forces himself to relax, but his hands remain balled into fists. “You don’t know a goddamn thing, Daley. You drift through life with all the privilege in the world, and yet you think you’ve earned all this. You know what? You’re just as spoiled as I always thought you were. And you didn’t know Megan half as well as you think you did.”