Fuck.
It doesn’t matter. I barely remember her face. She was just a distraction. A means to an end. A warm body to fuck when I couldn’t have Lydia. I used her to hurt Lydia, to make herjealous. But after I lost her… after Trip fuckingtookher from me…
She didn’t matter anymore.
She’s gone.
Forgotten.
The minute Lydia was out of my life, the other girl didn’t even exist. I didn’t give a shit about her. Because I only cared about Lydia.
And Trip.
They consume me. The way he touches her. The way she moans for him. The way he looks at her like she’s his whole fucking world.
My fingers clench around the edge of the desk, the cool surface digging into my skin as I stare at the screen.
They’re in the living room again.
Trip is stretched out on the couch, his arm draped lazily over her shoulders. Lydia curls against him, her head resting on his chest, her fingers tracing over the tattoos on his arms like she’s memorizing them.
Her eyes are soft.
So fucking soft.
Like she’s completely at peace.
Completelyhis.
My jaw clenches so tight I think my teeth might crack.
That should be me. It was supposed to be me. I should be the one she looks at like that. I should be the one she trusts.
Not Trip.
Not him.
I can’t stop staring.
My blood is boiling, my vision blurring with rage as I watch his hand slide down her back, his fingers brushing over the curve of her ass.
She shifts against him, her body pressing closer. Fuckingperfect. So goddamn perfect. And she’s giving it all to him.
I want to tear the fucking screen apart. I want to rip him away from her. I want to make her scream my name instead of his.
But instead, I just watch. Like I always fucking do.
Trip has taken everything from me. However, I won’t let him keep it. I’m not going to sit back and watch anymore.
Not for much longer. I can feel it building inside me, clawing at my insides like a fucking animal.
The need to destroy him. To take back what’s mine. And when I finally make my move…
Trip won’t see it coming.
THIRTY-TWO
LYDIA