Chapter 15
Hayden
“Crawling-Linkin Park”
I grab Rosie’s hand tighter and yank her towards my bike without another word. She spends the entire ride back to my apartment with her arms wrapped tightly around my waist and her mouth pressed against my neck every time we stop at a light.
I should feel something. She’s pretty. Easy and warm against my back, but all I can fucking see is Ophelia against that warehouse wall moaning for another guy while staring directly at me. Like she wanted to hurt me on purpose.
Spoiler alert… mission accomplished.
By the time we stumble into my apartment, I’m running on jealousy and rage disguised as adrenaline.
Rosie kisses me before the door even shuts.
Aggressive. Needy. Her hands already tugging at my hoodie.
“You’re intense tonight.” She laughs breathlessly.
If only she knew. But for a little while… I pretend.
Pretending that this girl touching me is enough. Pretending I don’t still taste Firefly every time I close my eyes. Pretending I don’t wanna put my fist through the wall thinking about some random asshole’s dick inside my girl.
So I grab her by the hips and slam her against the counter. She mistakes my roughness for passion.
It isn’t.
It’s fury.
Then I spin her around and press her face into the sink. I grab the bottom of her dress, yanking it up over her hips and ripping the red thong hiding between her cheeks.
“You wet for me, Rosebud?” I growl, and she giggles.
“Drenched,” she purrs as I take my dick out and rub my head against her soaked entrance.
“I’m not going to go easy,” I warn, and she glances over her shoulder to look at me with hooded eyes.
“Didn’t think you would,” she says before I slam into her.
Flashes of everything I’ve witnessed tonight cloud my vision as I pound into the chick.
I wrap my fist in her hair and pull roughly as fury and rage take over.
I dig my fingers into her hip as I take all this pent up emotion and slam it into her brutally.
She moans and meets me thrust for thrust. Her cunt tightens around my length while her body shivers against me.
“Fuck yes. I-I’m going to cum,” she screams as I pull out, only to slam into her harder.
I squeeze my eyes shut and picture my Firefly taking my cock like the good girl she is, and then that familiar tingle races up my spine as Rosie’s cunt flutters around me.
I groan, feeling her orgasm dripping, then I pull out and nut on her ass, whispering Ophelia’s name.
I stand here for a second with my dick still hard as a fucking rock in my hand, panting while Rosie heaves for air. I let go of her hair and take a step back.
What the fuck am I doing?
That’s all I can think of?
What the fuck are we doing?
This is not how it's supposed to be.
This is not how I thought seeing her again and being this close to her would be like.
Now.
Now we are becoming versions of ourselves that should never be, and I’m not sure there’s a way to stop it without this all ending in bloodshed.
Fuck!
By the time she leaves, I feel worse instead of better.
Used up, angry and hollow.
Because no matter how many girls I drag into my bed… none of them are Ophelia.
I stand in the middle of my apartment staring blankly at the wall for maybe five whole minutes before finally grabbing my keys again.
Bad idea.
Terrible idea.
But I’m already out the door before common sense catches up.
The warehouse parking lot is empty when I return.
Music still echoes faintly inside, but I find him almost immediately. Tattooed asshole from earlier. The one with his dick inside my Firefly.
My pulse goes dead calm.
Dangerously still.
I walk straight toward him as he lays on the hood of his car smoking without a care in the world.
“Yo!” I shout, and he sits up then looks at me lazily with a grin.
“There’s blondie’s boyfriend,” he says, and I see red.
I grab him by the throat so fast he barely gets a sound out before I slam him backward onto the hood hard enough to dent the metal beneath him. “You touched her.” My voice comes out terrifyingly steady.
Tattoo guy coughs out a laugh despite my hand crushing his throat.
“Touched a lot more than that.”
Something inside me snaps violently.
So I punch him once and his nose explodes instantly while blood sprays across the hood.
“You know.” He spits blood onto the pavement, grinning through broken teeth. “She seemed real eager to forget about you.”
Another punch. Harder this time, so hard it causes his head to whip sideways.
“She kissed me first.”
The more he keeps talking, the angrier I get.
So, I drag him off the hood and slam him against the side of the car hard enough the windows rattle.
Rage boils through my body.
I can barely hear anything over it now.
“She’s not yours,” he wheezes.
The fuck she isn’t.
“She moaned real pretty though,” he taunts. “Bet she sounds even better when—“
I lose it completely.
My fist crashes into his jaw again and again until my knuckles split open.
He drops to the pavement trying to crawl away but I grab him by the back of his shirt and drag him across the gravel. He coughs blood while glaring at me. “Crazy fucking psycho.”
“You touched what’s mine.” The words come out low and animalistic. Possessive enough to scare even me a little, but I don’t care. All I can picture is Ophelia’s face.
Her tears.
Her body pressed against his.
MINE.
Firefly has always been mine.
Tattoo guy laughs weakly despite the blood pouring down his face. “She didn’t seem to mind.”
That’s the last thing he says.
The rage afterwards turns ugly fast. I lift my boot and slam it down on his face. Over and over again. Bones crack and cave in the more I stomp his face in until there is nothing left. His body visibly shakes until it doesn’t anymore.
By the time I finally step back, breathing hard, blood stains my boots.
Shit.
I stare down at what I’ve done while adrenaline slowly drains away, leaving something colder behind. Not regret exactly but more like… inevitability.
Because the second this asshole put his hands on Ophelia, this outcome was always coming.
I dig into my pocket, pulling out my phone as I scan the parking lot. Thankfully this is owned by the Cartel so I’m safe—ish.
My screen lights up and I press on Ryder’s number.
He answers immediately. “Yo, Ghost.”
“I need a cleanup,” I say, and he pauses.
“Where you at?” he asks, and I take a deep breath while wiping the hair out of my face.
“Spade’s warehouse,.” I say, and he whistles down the line.
“Got you,” he says, then the line goes dead.
Twenty minutes later, he and Ryker pull into the lot looking deeply unimpressed. Ryker takes one look at the body and chuckles.
“Damn, Romeo.”
“Shut up,” I growl as Ryder crouches beside the mess, shaking his head.
“You killed this poor bastard over a girl?”
“He talked too much.”
Ryker starts laughing immediately. “Nah, nah, nah. Tell me this dude died because Hayden Marks got jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” I say as both twins stare at me silently then burst out laughing.
“Brother,” Ryder says through laughter. “You committed first-degree passion homicide.”
I roll my eyes, flipping him off while scrubbing blood from my knuckles with the hose on the side of the warehouse.
Ryker kicks the dead guy lightly with his boot. “Honestly? Kind of romantic in a deeply concerning way.”
“Can you idiots focus?” I growl.
“Right.” Ryder sighs dramatically. “Love cleanup duty. My favorite.”
“Where is Juliet?” Ryker asks, and I narrow my eyes at him. “Let me guess… you don’t know,” he says, and I take a deep breath.
“Do you want me to just kill everyone? Like fuck!” I seethe, and he laughs.
“No, dip shit. But for your conscience, she’s here. Inside,” he states.
My feet move before my brain has time to catch up. They both call after me but I don’t listen. I swing open the warehouse door, but someone grabs my shirt, pulling me away.
I spin and get in Ryker’s face. “Chill out, Ghost. She’s safe. She is unharmed, but you go in there covered in blood, you’re going to scare her. Is that what you want?” he asks, and I take a deep breath, running my hands over my face.
He’s right.
I wasn’t fucking thinking. I never think when it comes to her.
Fuck!
“Fine. Okay. I’ll go,” I say, and he pats me on the shoulder.
“Attaboy. Now get home and shower or something.” He laughs, and I roll my eyes.
The second I get home, I head straight for the shower. The hot water turns pink around my feet while blood circles the drain. My knuckles ache and my ribs feel too tight.
But weirdly? I can finally breathe easier knowing that guy can never touch her again.
Never look at her. Taste her, feel her.
MINE!
The thought should probably concern me more than it does.
Instead, I shut off the water, wrap a towel around my waist, and head to my room. I lay back on the bed and end up falling asleep faster than I have in weeks. I just wish she was here next to me.
That would make life so much better.