Page 83 of Forbidden Love Still Blooms

“Not garbage." My eyes close halfway in disdain. "Garbage rots and smells, hard to ignore it. You're more like the filth that gets stuck under the bottom of the can. Something no one even thinks about. In a year, I'll forget your name." I glance at each of his crew one by one. "So will they. You're nothing but a boring inconvenience."

His face pulls together towards the center, like a black hole is yanking everything into a single spot. Dezmond torques his body, I see his back, both shoulders, before he snaps around and connects his knuckles with my cheek.

I fold into myself. The pain doesn't register, not right away, because my brain is trying to figure out what happened.He actually hit me.My eyes don't want to settle in my skull; I squeeze them shut, inhale sharply, begging myself not to cry.He doesn't deserve a reaction. Do. Not. Give. Him. One!

Agony zips along my skin, radiating from my jaw. Adrenaline floods my body at once, giving me what I need to bury the urge to scream. The two men release me, talking frantically—the ringing in my ears muffles their words.

I land on my knees hard. Bringing my wrist to my mouth, I brush across the tender skin. It comes back stained red. The blood tastes like ocean salt. Breathing heavily, I dart my eyes up, see Dez staring down at me. "Bet you didn't find that boring," he growls. "Now we're even. Got anything to say for yourself, you stupid crazy bitch?"

Spitting blood onto the floor, my smile pulls the cut in my lip farther apart. It hurts to grin, but I can't stop myself. He punched me. I knew he was malicious, but I didn't think he had the guts. Dez always seemed like someone who talked big but had his buddies do the dirty work. He showed me otherwise just now, and when he let his inner demon out, he freed mine, too.

I giggle.

Do I have something to say? Oh, I do. “I'm fucking your dad.”

The entire shop goes quiet. There's nothing left but stale air around us; even Jake and Chico are frozen in place. Dezmond comes back to life first. His mouth trembles, drops open, legit shock removing control of his muscles for one mere second that I relish. God, it brings me such immense delight I wish I'd told him sooner. If I could rewind the moment, relive it again, I would.

Then he glowers.

His pupils become beads.

His whole body vibrates like wasps are swarming through his veins.

He hits me again, and it's harder than the first time, but I'm laughing too much to feel it. He can't do a thing to my body becauseI've won. I can tell by how he's attacking me. Sleeping with Jordan has damaged him in a place he can't protect. The blow to his ego rips him apart more than any fist could do.

“You're sleeping withJordan?” he roars. "You god damn fucking stupid bitch! What the fuck?What the fuck?"

His knuckles collide with my ribs, stealing my air, cutting off my maniacal giggles. I can't make any sound at all—my lungs argue at my attempts to inflate them. Laughing, crying, screaming, he robs me of all of it.

“Dez, man, stop!” Jake—I see his sneakers tangle with Dezmond's, the lankier man pulling my attacker away. It doesn't make him a hero, not after what he's done to me, but I'm relieved. My smugness can't protect me from being beaten to death.

Shaking, I force myself to sit up. Through the pieces of hair in my face I watch as Dez allows Jake to push him further back. Chico is more than pale, no longer the man who was keen to pick on an easy target. Especially not one that's grinning with red teeth, blood all over her shirt, acting so insane on the surface, I worry how insane I am at my core.

“Dez,” Jake says.

Myfiancésmacks his friend's hand away from his shoulder. “Get the fuck off me.” He can't look me in the eye. That gives me a new surge of satisfaction. “Jordan's not even my real dad. Fuck him all you want, you dumb slut, it doesn't hurt me.”

“Yes, it does,”I insist, coughing raggedly. Icy blades shred my lungs, but I force myself to keep talking. I feel unhinged, and Ilove it.I want to hurt him. Want him to suffer.“It makes you feel small. Pathetic. The way you felt at the bonfire, right? Everyone laughing at you?Lower than garbage.”

He starts to come for me a second time. I do my best to inscribe his reaction into my brain. I want to remember this moment—when I became more than a tool for him. I'm the person who found the end of the string holding together his pride, then pulled the snag to unravel him.

Something he sees in my face stops himshort. Dez is yellow tinged around his lips. He hesitates a long while without blinking.He's afraid of me.I want to coat myself in that knowledge like its an ointment. I'm injured but I feelhealed.

“Let's get out of here,” Dez snaps, and his buddies give him a wide berth as he shoves by them. One by one they file out the door, leaving me in my pool of blood. They did this once before—left me in the shop with soil scattered everywhere. That was easier to clean than this will be.

But I've wiped up blood before. I know what to do.

My head sways when I try to stand—I stumble, grab the counter, step on a chunk of ceramic pottery. I cracked Jake and Dez good. Laughing, choking on the copper flavor in my mouth, I stumble toward the closet where the cleaning supplies are.

There's a constant jingling in the air. My broken brain making up noises, no doubt. It's making up other things, too—wind on my back, shadows where they don't belong. I turn around when something clamps onto my elbow, forcing me to accept I'm not hallucinating.

Jordan grips me tight, his eyes so wide I see every fraction of his sockets. “Lorikeet! Are you okay? What happened?”

"How are you here?" I ask in disbelief.

"I was driving by, I saw the lights on, your car." He searches my face, noting the blood on my chin, my shirt, the floor.

All his fear washes away replaced by animalistic rage.

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