Page 29 of Quiet Rage
It takes everything I have in me not to launch myself over the island between us and cave his fucking face in.
He’s not going to touch her. Even as I force a smile and pretend to go along with him, that’s what goes through my mind. He is not going to put a hand on her. I’ll fucking kill him if he tries.
It’s a relief when he’s gone, since the tension in the room goes with him. I waste no time going upstairs and getting into a cold shower to get my head on straight. I mean, my workout didn’t do it, but maybe this will. Something has to help. I’m fucking drowning here.
How am I supposed to do what needs to be done when I can’t stand the idea of letting anybody touch her but me? That means I’m the one who has to do all the real damage—but it means I’m the one who would have to live with myself afterward, too. How do I do that? Where do I start?
The question haunts me as I’m getting dressed, as I’m driving to school. What am I supposed to do now? How did I let myself getin this deep with her? I’ve known better from the beginning. The whole reason I’ve spent any time with her at all is because of the job Dad gave me. It’s not like I got to know her and then I found out I have to destroy her. I took every step with my eyes open, and now where did it get me?
Looking forward to Lit class, since it will give me the excuse to see her for the first time since Sunday morning.
Finally, after hours that feel more like days, it’s time. My body’s humming by the time I walk the last few feet to the classroom. The air in the room is charged when I walk in, and I know why as soon as my hungry gaze lands on her blond head. There’s snickering all around, and the guy behind her nudges her chair with one foot.
A growl vibrates in my throat, but instead of warning him to leave her alone because she’s mine to fuck with, I settle for taking the seat next to hers instead of my usual spot in the back corner.
She sits up, goes stiff, stares straight ahead even though class hasn’t started yet.Look at me. Just look at me, Dragonfly. I know she wants to—she’s doing everything she can to pretend she doesn’t care. The guy who took her virginity is now sitting next to her. She wants to pretend nothing happened. Like I don’t matter.
But I do. I don’t care if she wants to admit it to herself or not.
The blue shirt she’s wearing almost matches her eyes. I can’t forget the way they stared up at me. Fearful, confused. I think it’s the power that’s more addictive than anything else, even more than her addictive scent. I smell her now, sweet and refreshing in a world full of rot, and my teeth are going to crack if I grindthem any harder in the fight to keep from leaning over across the aisle and burying my face in her hair. It was nice, sleeping on her pillow the other night. Dreaming while I was wrapped in her sweetness.
There hasn’t been much sweetness in my life before now.
I’m here, but I’m not here. The professor talks about the last few chapters we were assigned to read—I didn’t do it, but that’s nothing new. I usually skim the content anyway, but lately I’ve had too much on my mind. Even if I’d read every word and memorized all of them, I wouldn’t be able to hear a word he’s saying. Not when she’s so close to me. I would rather watch the way she fidgets, nervous, knowing I’m the reason why.
Look at me. Just look at me.She won’t, but that doesn’t stop her from blushing. I would swear she hears me.
“Before you go,” the professor calls out in the last few moments before we leave, “remember, you need to have your partners picked out by the end of this week. This project counts for a large percentage of your grade, so choose wisely and be prepared to get to work.”
I could kiss the bastard for giving me this excuse. “Hey, partner,” I murmur, turning my head so I can grin at Tamson. “Looks like I’ll be visiting your house again. Just to work on the project,” I add when the color drains from her face
Facts are facts. I’m the only person in this room who would work with her. Nobody else would touch her with a ten-foot pole after the work Tiana did to destroy her reputation.
And she knows it, too. I can see the wheels turning in her head while she looks around, trying to come up with a reason to turn me down. Her mouth opens for a moment before she stands andgets her things together the way everyone else is doing. “Not at my house. At the library,” she decides.
“What, hoping for a replay of the first time we met there?” It’s too tempting to resist—fucking with her, watching her gulp when she remembers.
“No, but I will also not risk a replay of Sunday,” she whispers. Her blue eyes dart back and forth, looking for anybody who might be eavesdropping—like she’s waiting for me to announce what we did.
She doesn’t know that’s just between us. Nobody will rub it in her face because I won’t give them the chance.
I guess in the grand scheme of things, letting her set the terms isn’t a dealbreaker. If it gives her the feeling like she’s got a little bit of control, fine by me. So long as I have the excuse to be with her. “Library it is,” I agree. “I have class until four. See you after.”
She’s either too tongue-tied to argue, or she knows it would be a waste of time. I’m out of the room before she can say another word, feeling better than I have all day now that I know there’s an excuse to spend more time with her.
And maybe somewhere in there, I’ll come up with a way to destroy her.
Or I’ll end up making it more impossible to go through with than it is already.
Chapter 14
Tamson
I glanceat my phone for the tenth time in as many minutes. We’re not supposed to meet here for another few minutes, but my nerves are shot already. I just don’t know what to expect. Is he really going to meet me here to study or is this just another prank… another trap?
Maybe he won’t show at all. That would be the best-case scenario. Maybe I should leave? But no...he would just show up at my house, probably angry that I didn't listen to him.
My anxiety is so bad, I’m sick to my stomach. Good thing I haven't eaten anything yet.
