Page 21 of Manhattan Tormentor

“Well, well, look who it is. Didn’t think you’d have the balls to gate crash, Fierro.”

“I stole your mom’s balls.” I slap back with. My eyes searching out the cramped spaces, hoping to see familiar blonde hair so I can drag her out of here.

The jock laughs suddenly. “Good one. Get a drink, relax, you might enjoy it.”

He disappears into the crowd, followed by three girls who are hanging off him.

I can’t find Raene, but my eyes search out Finn and find him no problem. Denim hoodie jacket and backward cap on top of his dark head, legs outstretched in front of him. He’s holding court for his gaggle of females. One pushes her face into the side of his neck and he smiles while he holds a red cup in one hand and a joint in the other.

His head lifts, and he sees me through the sea of people. The smile eases.

Finn has always assumed I’m a fly he can swat.

Fuck that. And fuck him.

He speaks to the girl with her hands all over his chest. He does it without breaking eye contact with me. It feels intimate and I hate him for that. For dragging me into his world. Even with his blatant show of heterosexuality and his circle of idiots, all I feel is possessiveness.

Fuck’s sake. I really am the Fierro’s weakest link.

No way would my brothers let themselves get led around by the dick like this.

I break eye contact and push my way through to another room.

Thank god, I spy blonde hair and too tight clothes.

She immediately flushes.

“Swear to god, if you don’t want me to wring your neck in front of your girls, you get outside to my car right now.” I threaten through my teeth.

“But… Sage…”

“Don’t care. It’s me or I call dad.”

“Butthole,” she hisses, but she dumps the red cup of beer and shoves me aside so she can storm through the crowd. I follow at a slower pace, trying to calm myself.

I’m not even outside for a second and a hand grabs and pulls me around the side of the house. My back reacts to the pain of the wall Finn has pushed me up against, and I revolt by shoving him back.

“The hell is your problem?”

“You’re my problem,” he rasps, dropping his head so I see the color of his eyes up close and smell the beer and smoke on his breath. “You exist, that makes you a big fucking problem, Damsel.”

If I were able to roll my eyes to the back of my skull, I would have, because his tune is stale.

So many people irritate me irrationally for no reason. Some of them I don’t even know, but do I make a personal vendetta? No. That’s Finn’s trick and I’m tired of it.

“Build a bridge and drown.” I tell him and he barks a laugh in my face.

“It’s build a bridge and get over it.”

“Do I look like I care? Get the hell out of my face. I’m sick of this and I’m sick ofyou.”

Shoving him again, I encounter solid muscle.

So solid I grunt, losing every inch of spit in my mouth when he doesn’t budge, but leans heavier into me.

Finn has always wanted to humiliate me.

Belittle me.

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