Page 95 of The Cruelest Chaos
Let it fucking—
No.
Fuck no.
That’s my girl. She’s mine.I own her.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath in. Out. I hear her whimper and even though I know I should leave, even though I know I should run far, far away and leave her alone, let her be happy here with him or whoever she wants, I can’t.
I can’t do it.
My eyes fly open as she whimpers again and I wrench the shed door open. The Guinea pigs start losing it, the door whacks against the shed, and Ella jumps out of Connor’s lap and he springs to his feet, his eyes hard, his lips swollen, just like hers.
She pulls her sweatshirt down, and my eyes go to his pants, see his dick straining against his jeans.
For my fucking girl.
I don’t think. I just grab him by his stupid racing sweatshirt and yank him out of the shed. Ella follows after us, closing the doors and latching them, screaming out my name.
Screamingat me.
“That’s my fucking girlfriend!” I throw Connor down, but he doesn’t hit the ground. He catches himself, straightens, and his mouth presses into a line, his eyes narrowed as he charges at me, knocking my head back against the shed door.
His hands come to my chest as he pulls me toward him to slam me back again, but I reach into my back pocket and pull out the blade, thumbing the release open.
His eyes widen at the snick of it, and he drops his hands, backs up.
I know it’s a punk move, bringing a fucking knife to a fist fight, but I don’t care. I just want to hurt him. I want to carve out the feel of her skin on his.
“Maverick!” she screams again, and she steps in between us, facing me, her back to Connor.
He shakes his head and goes to push her to the side, but I stop him.
“Don’t touch her.”
His eyes dart to the knife in my hand, right in front of her face, and he drops his hands, looking like he wants to fucking kill me.
“Maverick, put the knife away,” Ella says, holding up her hands to me.
I see her red lips, and I think of his mouth on hers. His fucking spit mixing with hers. His dick, getting hard forher.
“Why, Ella?” I ask her with a smile, barking out a laugh. “This isn’t what you wanted?” I lower the knife but don’t put it away.
She drops her hands, eyes flicking from the blade back up to me. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “No, Mavy. It’s not what I want.”
“That’s not my fucking name.”
She quirks a smile, but I see her eyes are shining and I don’t know if she’s about to laugh or cry. “You wanna hurt me, Mavy?”
I scoff, eyes locked on her as Connor scowls at me from behind her. “No, baby. Never,” I lie. “I just wanna fucking kill you.”
Connor grunts behind her, and this time he does shove her out of the way, stepping up to me again.
“Connor.” Ella’s voice is soft when she talks to him.
He doesn’t look away from me. Doesn’t back up. I drop the knife, ready to fucking hit him in the face, but Ella grabs his wrist and jerks him away from me.
“No,” she says to him, holding his hand. She shakes her head. “It’s okay.”
