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With You (Tear Asunder 0.5)

Page 3

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My mouth gaped. “No. God, no. I’m not your sister. It’s just . . . I wanted to talk to you alone.”

His gaze dripped down my body then back up again. I felt like a piece of steak, and he was appraising me to see if I was worth the price. “So, if not my sister then what do you want from me?”

The reason fled my mind, and I stood staring at him like that stupid piece of steak. “I . . . ah . . . well.” His tongue slid across his upper lip wetting the surface and making it glisten. Jesus, did he even know he was doing that?

“I’m not going to fuck you. I may fight illegally, but I don’t fuck illegally.”

My sudden mind boggle vanished, and ire replaced it. “I’m twenty for your information, and I wouldn’t even consider having sex—”

He frowned, and his lips pursed together. The look sent a flush into my cheeks, because honestly, the guy looked even hotter with a scowl. “Having sex? Can you even say the word fuck?”

“Yeah. Fuck you.”

Silence. Then he laughed; his dark eyes sparkling like black opals. The sound was utterly magical, and several people nearby looked at Sculpt with surprise.

God, this was a waste of time, and now Kat and I would be peeing red for the next month. I turned to leave, but his hand snagged mine.

“Why’d you come looking for me?” His tone was gentler with a pinch of graveled sexiness which didn’t help any.

Okay, I couldn’t let Kat eat beets without even asking him; she’d make me eat hers, and I didn’t like them that much. “I need to learn how to fight.”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to fight.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

I shook my head.

He laughed again, his head thrown back and the sound echoing in the warehouse. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, and despite the fact that he was laughing at me, I was more mortified that I was turned on by his laugh. “You’re scared as shit of me. Shoulders slumped, confidence of a mouse . . . You’re not going to make a fighter of any kind.”

“I don’t want to fight like you or anything. I just need to know a few moves.”

“Then go take a class. I don’t have the time to teach some chick how to pull a punch.” He let my hand go and chin-nodded to a guy who walked up to shake his hand.

“Nice take down, buddy.”

“Thanks. You see those men?” Sculpt was now completely ignoring me; I’d become invisible.

“Sure did.”

“You get who they were?”

His friend nodded. “I’m guessing. Fuck man, not cool. How’d do you think he found you?”

“Hey,” I said. He ignored me, and I grabbed his arm. “Hey.”

When he turned my stomach went through the roof of my mouth. His eyes honed in on me, and I nearly slunk away under his penetrating glare. “Classes don’t start until September, and I need them now.”

“No.” He looked down at my small hand holding him. “Let go.”

I shook my head. “I need this.”

His eyes narrowed and mouth tightened. “Is your boyfriend hitting you?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Then why the hell does a girl like you want to learn how to fight?”

I looked down at my feet, shuffled a bit then met his gaze dead on. I had no choice. “I was attacked after work by a guy and—”

“He rape you?” His tone was scary deep, and his eyes darkened with that intense gleam that wouldn’t let me look away even if I wanted to.

“No.” But the guy managed to pull down my jeans, tear off my thong and put his finger inside me. I’d bit his hand covering my mouth, and when he pulled away, hand raised to slap me, I’d screamed so loudly that he took off.

I never reported it, even though Kat begged me to, and we kept it from Matt because he was mega overprotective. Maybe that’s what happens when you take on the role of father at an early age. Kat and I say he’s a popcorn kernel waiting to pop. When we suspect he’s going to blow, we say he’s “on the burner.”

So, telling Matt was a bad idea. Besides it’d been dark, and he took me down so fast, I had no idea what he looked like. All I knew was he was big, bulky big, with breath smelling like cigars and mints.

Sculpt was quiet for several moments then he said, “They catch him?”

I shrugged looking down at my feet again. “No.” I took a deep breath. Maybe this was the wrong guy to ask. All I could think about was his rough hands touching me, his lips hard against mine, the little nibbles on my ear, and his breath tickling my heated skin.

Suddenly, Sculpt grabbed my hand and curled my fingers into a fist. “You think you can hit someone. A guy wanting to get a piece of you? With this? You weigh a hundred pounds max.”

A hundred and twenty actually.

“Fighting won’t help you, Mouse. Haven’t you heard of the buddy system? Staying clear of dark places at night? My answer stays the same—no.”

I bet if that tinsel girl asked for his help, he’d have leapt at the chance. I tried to not let it bother me; after all I was used to being the girl who had no friends until Matt and Kat. Their parents’ deaths coinciding with my father’s within months of one another had formed a bond between us that was unbreakable.

So why would a guy like Sculpt help me? What had I been thinking asking him?

“She’s Kat’s friend.” The guy who’d been talking to Sculpt interrupted. “You know . . . Matt’s little sister.” Sculpt’s attention drew away from me for a mere second, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It was exhausting keeping my emotions under control with him staring. “Saw her with Kat earlier,” Sculpt’s friend continued. He held out his hand, and I took it. “Hey, I’m Kite.”

“Hi. Emily.” I half-smiled.



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