Page 102 of Hate Game

Panic claws at my chest. I pound at his back. My fists are small compared to the wide expanse of his back. I lift my head. Other McCabe guys are holding Johnny back from helping me. Olivia isn’t with them. Where did she go?

“Let me go.”

“Not until I get what I want.”

“Whatever it is, you’re not getting it from me. Now, put me down.”

To my horror and humiliation, Sawyer marches past the spectators with me over his shoulder as though I’m a prize he’s won before he saunters over to the cage. In front of Malice and Big J inside the cage, and Isaac on the periphery, he smooths his big palm over my ass and thanks Isaac for the invite.

“Otherwise, I would have missed this fine piece of ass.”

I smack my fists on his back. Malice rushes up to the cage and rattles it. “Put her the fuck down. She is my girl. Mine,” he growls.

I stop hitting Sawyer and glare. “How could you say that after I caught you kissing Cassie?”

“A misunderstanding, Rue.”

“Rue. That's a sexy name, baby. Want to get out of here?”

“Yes.” I hang my head. My headache starts again. I’m tired of fighting a losing battle in my head and my heart. I saw what I saw, and I saw Malice kissing Cassie.

“Don’t you dare leave with him, Rue. He’s a monster. A hot-tempered mess who mistreats his women.”

“Then what’s the difference between you and him? Nothing. Goodbye, Malice. Have a great life with Cassie.”

If he lives.

Oh, God, please let Malice live.

38

RUE

Sawyer dumps me in the front passenger seat of his lifted pickup truck. “Don’t think about running away. One word from me and my brother will cut off Isaac’s tongue. He’ll never speak a word again, you got that?”

I nod. He takes his time getting behind the wheel. He isn’t in a hurry. His cousins have Isaac by the arms as he watches us drive off with fear on his face.

And Malice?

Is he proving his worth to Cassie? Is that the reason he refused to drop from the fight? I didn’t miss the fact that he and Cassie have been spending more time together at school. I caught them behind the school building with their heads close as they looked at something on her cell phone.

I pull my knees to my chest, turn into the door, and stare at the darkness. I can’t tell what direction we’re headed.

There aren’t any buildings or other landmarks out here in this isolated part of town that can help me figure out where I am. All I understand is that I’m lost. Lost in how I feel about Malice. Lost in my anger for falling hard for him. He said I’m his girl. Then why was he kissing another girl?

He said it was a misunderstanding. What am I not understanding when I saw what I saw?

The tears fall, and I can’t stop them. I blink them away, but they continue to fall. My shoulders shake. I wipe my tears with my sleeves. What do I do now? I can’t stop crying. I bury my face in my arms and cry into my shirtsleeves. It’s shameful crying this hard in front of a mobster.

My seatbelt is unbuckled. A muscular arm reaches for me. Sawyer pulls me across the bench seat and, one-handed, he buckles me in.

“Cry, little one. You’ll feel better once you get it all out.”

His words are soft and contradictory to his menacing appearance. He has a full sleeve of dragons and the devil dancing in a field of flowers on his arms. Pierced right brow. A scar intersects his left brow. Another scar slices across his mouth.

I turn into him, circle my arms around his bicep, and cry into his shirt. “I hate him.”

“Want me to off him for you?”

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