Page 20 of Shattered Hate

“Oh.” I chuckle. “I’m not playing; I’m leaving.” I start to stand up, but Trayton’s voice stops me and makes me grind my teeth.

“Of course you pussy out.” He laughs. I see Cope punch his leg, causing him to hiss in pain. Why do I feel the need to prove myself to this jerk? He gives me a smug look and raises one eyebrow slightly, like it’s a challenge.

Just go home, Daxton. You don’t care what these people think of you.

No, I don’t. But for some messed-up reason, I care whatthisguy thinks of me.

“Dare,” I grit out while keeping my gaze focused on Trayton.

My stare remains fixed on him, refusing to look away even as Gabby’s words sink in. A chill runs down my spine as I realize what I’ve just agreed to, but it’s not the fact that I said dare that leaves me breathless and stumbling over my words. It’s the next part, the impossible demand she makes with a nonchalant tone that hides the harsh intent behind it.

“Sorry, wh-what?” I stammer, my voice betraying my shock and fear.

“I dare you to get on your hands and knees and crawl to Trayton like a dog, then plant a kiss on his lips,” she states matter-of-factly, her eyes glinting with malicious glee as though she’s reciting lines from a dark tale. “And I want tongue,” shedemands, her voice dripping with lust and malice. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch Trayton’s eyes sparkle with wicked delight. He leans back on the sofa, spreading his legs wide and beckoning me to kneel before him.

“On your knees, Rivers,” he taunts, sadistic pleasure in his voice at the thought of seeing me submit. My bravery crumbles as my heart races in my chest. I shake my head frantically.

“I-I’m not doing it,” I stammer weakly.

Trayton’s grin widens, his predatory gaze roaming over my trembling form. “Didn’t think so.” He sneers. Before I can say anything else, Jamie’s voice breaks through the silence that now blankets the room.

“Don’t worry, Daxton. I’ll take that dare for you.” Trayton’s attention shifts away from me as Jamie crawls onto his lap, wrapping his arms around Trayton’s neck and locking lips with him. My stomach churns as I watch Trayton’s tongue invade Jamie’s mouth, and Jamie’s hips move in response. I am frozen in shock, unable to look away as Trayton dominates the kiss.

Leave, Daxton. Fucking move—do something. Stop watching.

The sound of a girl beside me commenting on how hot they look doesn’t even register as I’m lost in the intensity of the moment. But suddenly, something snaps inside me a few moments later as I hear her words, and I realize that I need to do something.

With all my willpower, I tear myself away and make a beeline for the door. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. But just as I reach for the handle, something grips me like a punch in the gut. I feel it, something burning through me. I turn my head and glance over my shoulder. It’s Trayton’s eyes, piercing through me with an intense stare that makes me feel both vulnerable and desired. He winks at me before deepening the kiss with Jamie. I can’t handleit anymore and tear myself through the door, gasping for air as my heart pounds in my chest.

But then I realize something that sickens me to my core.

I lift my sweater and look down.

My dick is painfully evident under my jeans, rock hard and throbbing, despite the disgust and confusion swirling inside me.

What the fuck was that?

And more importantly, why am I reacting this way to the one guy I hate most?

Chapter ten

Trayton

This week has seemed to drag on endlessly, each day feeling longer than the last. I’ve barely been able to sleep all week out of excitement to discuss my new tattoo and to possibly see the first draft of it. Every morning, I’ve imagined what it will look like, and finally, today is the day. I’ve been up since six this morning, and now, as I glance at the clock, it’s only eight. Despite being fully showered and ready for the day, I find myself sitting restlessly on the edge of my bed, impatiently waiting for Kal to wake up so I can share my excitement.

But waking him would be a mistake; he’s not a morning person, and he’d surely kick my ass if I disturbed his sleep.

There is one person who always seems to be up early.

Brayden.

I glance up at the impressive two-story house in front of me—Brayden’s new home with Bohdi. A grin spreads across my face as I jog toward the door and knock quickly a few times. I wait anxiously for a response, and soon enough, I hear shuffling behind the door. It swings open to reveal a shirtless Bohdi, his dark hair sticking up in all directions.

“Trayton?” he says groggily, rubbing his face with one hand while trying to tame his hair with the other. “Is everything okay?”

“Hey, Mr.—Bohdi,” I say with a chuckle. “Is Brayden around?”

He looks at me with surprise, then shakes his head. “Yes, yes, of course. Come in.” As I enter their spacious living room, I take in my surroundings with admiration. This is my first time visiting Brayden since he returned from London, and, wow, this place is on fire.

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