Page 2 of Pack Rivals: Part Two
Does he feel any guilt? Any shame? Any reproach?
Does he feel anything at all?
No. He doesn’t.
It’s always been this way.
Always the same.
He could never stand for me to have anything of my own. He could never bear for me to have something he didn’t. He could never let that be. He always had to take it. He always had to break it.
I shouldn’t even be surprised.
I hear the click of her heels on the stairs, and I step into the shadows, my fists tight balls, my nails cutting deep into my palms. I watch her trot along the pathway, hips swaying, and climb into her car.
Her figure once had my blood pumping; now it runs cold in my veins.
Fuck, I liked that girl a lot.
Fuck, I thought she was the one.
Fuck, how could I get this so wrong?
I laugh bitterly to myself as she melts into the shadows.
Because there’s cruel irony to this.
It’s why I’m here after all.
To discuss it with my good old brother.
I shake my head and step back out into the lamplight. Axel’s door is closed now.
But I don’t give a shit.
I still have a word or two to say to my elder brother.
I climb the stairs slowly, each footstep growing heavier and heavier, weightier and weightier, as the anger inside me grows bolder and bolder, hotter and hotter until it’s steaming through my veins.
I’m going to fucking kill him.
I’m going to hurt him like he’s hurt me.
The image of them hangs in front of my eyes. Taunting me as I climb the stairs.
Other images too. Of them twined together, of him rutting her hard, of her taking his knot.
Of them laughing. Laughing at me.
Shit!
Shit!
I pause at the top of the staircase, gazing along the row of apartment doors. He shares this one with Nate. We talked about getting a place together. All of us, once Silver leaves the army. That’s not going to happen anymore.
A lot of our plans are no longer going to happen.
My feet carry me past the other doors and soon I’m standing outside number 16. The numbers spin and it seems like another man entirely lifts his hand and pounds on the door.
