Page 91 of Ruthless Chaos
The edges of my vision turn red.
Allie is sat on the vanity, her boneless body slumped against the mirror. Her dress is hiked up to her thighs and ripped down the middle—exposing all the sensitive parts of her,the parts only I should see.
Keller is standing between her legs, groping her chest.
Her eyes are rolling back in her head, wet with tears.
My throat constricts.
Keller doesn’t flinch. Instead, he looks at me and smiles.
Time grinds to halt.
“Ah, Alexander,” he says. Allie startles at the sound of my name. Her eyes lazily find mine, and I see the pain in them. I want to apologize to her. “Took you long en—”
I don’t let him finish.
I rip him away from her by the collar. He struggles against my grip, but I’m squeezing his neck like a vice, and he’s too puny to overpower me.
I throw him to the ground, then throw myself on him a second after.
This time, I don’t hold back.
I want him to understand he’s crossed a line.
I want him to wish he had heeded my warning.
I want to kill him.
I punch him square in the jaw with a closed fist. There’s a squelch, but Keller gives out a shocked yelp of laughter.
I punch him again, and again.
Once, for trying to take what’s mine.
Twice, for drugging Allie and trying to rape her.
Three times, for being such an absolute scum of a person and refusing to leave me alone. I punch him for thinking he could get away with this. I punch him for saying my father had my mother killed.
I punch him for thinking I’m the same as my father.
The punches stop having reasons, but I’m locked in a manic rhythm. Each punch feels wetter than the last, but I can’t stop myself—
He deserves to die for what he’s done.
It’s a shrill scream that cuts through the haze in my head.
My hands slow.
It takes a moment, but eventually my swimming vision steadies enough for me to see what I’ve done.
Liam’s face is an unrecognizable mass of pulp and blood. His lip is split in many places, his skin is black and blue, and he’s bleeding from his eyes, mouth, and nose.
My knuckles are cut. I can’t tell where his blood ends and mine begins.
He’s limp. Too limp for the scream to be his.
Beyond the entrance to the corridor, the party is still in full swing. I doubt anyone even realizes what’s happening.
