‘You asked me to touch you. I did, and now we’re done.’
He said it as though I held the same gun that I’d just killed Sam with up against his head. He acted as though it didn’t mean a thing, that he was just crossing off another thing on his ‘to do’ list.
Screw him. That meant something. It was raw and filled with passion and desire. That wasn’t just some random finger-fucking to pass the goddamn time. It was a huge fucking step that I thought we were taking in the right direction. I thought maybe we’d finally jumped over a hurdle and came down the other side.
Apparently, I read the situation wrong. Again.
I jump off the table and my hand instantly curls into a fist, my brass knuckles tightening on my fingers. If I wasn’t so exhausted after beating the shit out of Sam, I’d force Carver up against a wall and refuse to leave until I had every little answer I needed. But instead, I just stare.
“What are you still doing here?” he asks, looking back at me. “Would you prefer to stay and deal with this mess?”
A breathy scoff comes flying from between my lips as I just watch him, unable to believe what the hell is happening. He turns his back and focuses his attention on the body, but I’m not quite done with him.
I walk right up behind him and grab his wrist so fast, tugging it hard and leaving him absolutely no choice but to spin around or risk dislocating his shoulder. I narrow my gaze on his and raise my chin, wanting to hate him so badly. “The second that bullet went through his skull, I felt fucking free. My monsters were gone, and I knew that I could finally put it behind me. He was never going to hurt me again, never going to haunt my dreams, and I had no reason to fear him anymore. But you … fuck, Carver. You are the one that I should be watching my back around. I gave you a fucking shot and then you dismiss me as though it meant nothing. You are the one I should be terrified of. You are the one who’s going to destroy me, and from now on,” I step right into him, holding his dark, stormy gaze hostage, “I’m done playing your game.”
Without a backward glance, I turn and walk out of the shitty little torture chamber, leaving my feelings for Carver behind and hoping that they die right along with Sam.
CHAPTER 22
My fist raps against the door as I nervously glare across at Ember beside me. “Do you have any idea how badly this is going to go down?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t care. You’re eighteen. You don’t need their permission to do anything,” she tells me, her lips pulling up in distaste. “Besides, what’s it matter to them what you do? They’re not your brothers, and as far as I’m aware, you’re not dating any of them, so they don’t have the right to say shit. They should consider themselves lucky that you’re even standing here and letting them know what you’re doing. If it were me, I’d already be at the freaking party with six shots of tequila making their way through my system and about ready to start making some fucked up decisions.”
“Dude,” I laugh. “Are you even allowed to drink? Didn’t you only just get over your concussion?”
“Dude,” she mimics, making the word seem so much less cool than what I thought it sounded. “The doctor didn’t technically tell me that I couldn’t drink, so—”
The door opens, cutting her off as Cruz stands before us, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you knocking?” he questions, quickly glancing at Ember before trailing his eyes down our bodies and shaking his head. “No. No fucking way. You’re not going out.”
Ember scoffs but I jump in before she says something that’s only going to make it worse. “For the record, I want it known that I came here to politely let you know what’s going down tonight. I’m not here asking permission. I’m doing you assholes a kindness and telling you that Ember and I are going out tonight so that when you inevitably make yourselves welcome into my home and find me gone, you don’t go all caveman on me.”
Cruz just laughs before his face goes deadly serious. “No.”
I turn on my heel, hooking my arm through Ember’s. “Well, it was nice seeing you. I’ll catch you in the morning.”
We start making our way down the stairs and Cruz quickly races out after us. “No. Fuck. Winter, stop moving that fine as fuck ass down the goddamn stairs and get back here. You can’t go out or have you forgotten that—”
He cuts himself off, almost slipping up in front of Ember about the fact that I have a whole bunch of crazy old men waiting to watch my head roll.