Page 84 of Never Stop
"Excuse me?" I deadpan, still feeling dumbfounded by his words.
"I'm just saying, Via. We are all thinking about it. You're great at this job. You love it here, and it's obvious. All of a sudden, you start dating some random guy, and now you're throwing everything away."
The balls on this ass hat are almost impressive—the actualnerve.
"Clark, let's not stand here and pretend that you know anything about me other than wanting to get a free tour of the inside of my vagina. So, if you'll excuse me," I push off the wall and stand to turn away as I roll my eyes at the audacity of this fucker.
I'm stopped short. He rushes up to me, grabbing my arm, his grip is tight, and it almost hurts, but I'm too pissed even to register the feeling.
"If you'd given me a chance and gotten to know me, you would see that I didn't want just sex with you. I fell for you, Via. Why would you never give me a chance?" His grip around my arm is growing tighter, but his tone doesn't match his body language. His tone is desperate, as if he's begging me to see him, and I do, loud and clear. I amnotinterested.
"Clark, let go of me." I pull to tug my arm, but he grips tighter, grabbing my other arm as well and facing me to him. Our faces are so close that they're nearly touching, and then, they are. He glides his nose along my cheek as I thrash about, trying to free myself from his grip.
"All I asked for was a chance. Let me show you—" The sound of shattering glass cuts him off. My eyes are screwed shut, and I begin counting in my head to attempt to take control of the anxiety that's rushing through my bones, taking over all of my senses.
I stop fighting against Clark and begin to shut down. Just then, I hear a familiar voice shout further down the hall.
"I'll give you two seconds to back the fuck away from her."
Ander
My eyes shoot open to see Ander standing there. He looks as handsome as ever in dark jeans, converse, and a navy-fitted t-shirt, and his beautiful tattoos that cover his arms are on full display. His chest is pounding; his fists are clenched by his side. A broken vase of flowers is lying at his feet. The look on his face is protective and primal, and if I were Clark, I'd be scared shitless right now.
Clark's grasp on my arms loosens, but he doesn't release me. I'm still pressed against the wall at the hands of Clarks as Ander starts walking toward us, quickening his pace.
"This! This is who you choose?" Clark seethes in my ear in a low growl as he releases me.
Damn right, it is.
As Ander approaches us, he stops in front of Clark, gets right in his face, but doesn't touch him. The rage is searing off of him. If this weren't such a screwed-up situation, my sick-ass mind would relish in how downright sexy he is like this. Clark just crossed one too many lines, and I'm fuming.
Ander, whose hands are still balled into fists at his sides, steps closer to Clark, causing Clark to take steps backward to stay upright.
"Chill man, we were just… just tal-talking," Clark manages to stammer. Ander doesn't say a word.
He steps forward, walking Clark backward until he lands flat against the wall. As soon as Clark's back meets the wall, Ander slams his large hand onto the wall right next to Clark's head and points at me with the opposite one.
"Mine!" he says, not necessarily a shout but not quiet either. His finger is still pointed at me.
"Nothing or no one hurts or threatens what's mine. No real man has to bully a woman into giving him a chance. You've made your stance clear, just as clear as she's made hers. Now take the fucking hint and back down. Don't you even think about touching her again, or it will be the last fucking thing that you do!" He removes his hand and slams it into the wall again, causing a loud thud to echo through the hallway.
"And trust me when I say this is the only warning I'll give. You're lucky I don't bash your fucking face in here and now." Ander's voice is low, and his words come out slowly.
Clark huffs, rolls his eyes in defeat, and nods.
Coward.
He has the balls to attempt to manhandle a woman but bitches out when approached by a real man. He's a real fucking winner.
Ander doesn't even wait for his response; as soon as the words leave his mouth and he removes his hand from the wall again, he quickly walks over to me, folding over me, and wraps me into his arms. As I settle into his warm embrace, I see Clark hurrying off down the hall like the little bitch that he is.
"Oh, and Clark?" I shout out after him. He stops midstep, surprising me, and looks back toward me.
"Stop with the notes and gifts. Stop following me. Stop all of it. I never wanted any of it."
"I've never written you any notes or given you any gifts," he says with a confused look on his face before spinning around and walking out of our line of view.
Liar.
