Chapter 14
Hayden
The second I walk into the warehouse with Rosie hanging off my arm, I see Ophelia, and just like that… the game begins.
Music pounds through the warehouse hard enough to shake the rafters overhead while bodies move beneath flashing lights and smoke. Somebody’s yelling over beer pong. Spade is nowhere to be seen. Bianca’s dancing on a table already half drunk.
None of it matters.
Because Firefly spotted me with another girl.
I watch the exact second it hits her. Those big blue eyes lock onto Rosie’s hand sliding across my chest and her whole body stiffens. Hurt flashes across her face so quickly most people would miss it.
I don’t. I never miss anything when it comes to her.
Rosie notices the tension immediately.
Smart girl.
“Who’s that?” she asks while adjusting herself tighter against my side.
I keep my eyes on Ophelia. “Trouble.” She giggles softly like she thinks I’m joking.
I’m not.
Across the warehouse, B leans towards Ophelia, whispering something in her ear. Whatever it is makes Firefly’s expression harden instantly. Then those blue eyes slide back towards me with enough fury to light the entire building on fire.
There she is. That girl’s still in there somewhere beneath all the heartbreak.
Good. Because I’m pissed too.
A whole fucking month.
One month of silence.
One month of disappearing.
One month of driving myself insane wondering if she was okay while she avoided me like the plague.
So yeah.
Maybe bringing Rosie tonight is toxic.
Maybe it’s petty.
Maybe I want Ophelia to feel even half the jealousy that’s been poisoning me alive every time I picture Brayden touching her.
Sue me.
Rosie tilts her face toward mine. Cute little thing. Blonde. Tiny. Trouble in a different flavor.
Most importantly.
Easy.
Not complicated.
Not tragic
Not capable of destroying me with one look. She is the complete opposite of Ophelia Fitzgerald.
Rosie runs her fingers beneath my hoodie teasingly.
“You gonna actually pay attention to me tonight?” she asks, and I smirk lazily.
“Depends how good you are at keeping me entertained.”
Across the room, Ophelia visibly recoils, then does the absolute worst thing possible.
She smiles. Not real, not soft.
But sharp. Dangerous.
“Oh,” Bianca says loudly enough for me to hear. “Two can absolutely play that game.”
My jaw tightens instantly, and Firefly grabs a drink from somebody walking past and throws it back hard while keeping eye contact with me the entire damn time.
Challenge accepted.
The next hour becomes pure warfare.
Rosie ends up in my lap near the poker tables laughing while I pretend to care about whatever story she’s telling me.
Truthfully? I barely hear a word she says because every few seconds my eyes drift back toward Ophelia, and every time they do… I regret breathing because she’s making sure I see everything.
The random guy dancing behind her. Another feeding her shots. One asshole whispering in her ear while she laughs too hard at something that probably wasn’t even funny. She’s drunk. I can tell immediately.
Her cheeks flush pink, her movements loosen. That fake careless smile gets wider the more she drinks. And it pisses me off beyond reason.
“She’s staring at you,” Rosie murmurs while tracing circles against my chest.
“No shit.”
“You wanna make her jealous?” she asks as I look down at Rosie fully for the first time tonight. “Because it’s working.”
My eyes flick back to Ophelia just in time to catch some prick touching her waist.
Jealousy rips through me instantly.
Ugly. Violent.
So I do the mature thing.
I lean down, cup Rosie’s cheek, and press my lips against hers. The crowd nearby whistles while she melts against me.
Easy. Warm. Forgettable.
And when I glance up again? Firefly is staring directly at us, but her expression shatters me. Because beneath all the anger…she looks hurt.
Good. Hurt people hurt people, right?
Then she downs another shot and lets some idiot pull her towards the dance floor.
That’s when my restraint starts cracking. Rosie notices.
Shit!
“You’re not over her,” she whispers, licking the shell of my ear.
I laugh darkly. “Understatement of the century.”
“Then why are you here with me?” she asks.
Because Ophelia disappeared. Because I’m angry. Because if Firefly can act like I don’t matter, then maybe I should find someone who does.
Instead, I shrug. “You seemed fun.”
She smirks. “And I’m a sure thing.”
That too.
Across the warehouse, Ophelia’s now grinding against some tattooed asshole while Bianca cheers her on like Satan’s little assistant.
My vision blurs red instantly.
“She’s trying really hard to piss you off,” Rosie observes.
“It’s working,” I growl.
“You gonna stop her?” she asks as I stare at Ophelia for one long dangerous second before dragging my eyes away deliberately.
“No.” My voice hardens. “If she wants to act single, I’ll treat her like she is.”
The words that leave my mouth taste like poison, because deep down she could sleep beside another man every night for the rest of her life and some sick part of me would still think she belongs to me, and that’s the problem.
Firefly owns pieces of me she doesn’t even realize exists.
Rosie kisses my jaw slowly, taking me out of my thoughts. “Wanna get outta here soon?” she asks.
I should say no. I know I should but then I look back toward the dance floor and catch another guy sliding his hand beneath Ophelia’s shirt while she laughs drunkenly against his shoulder.
Something cold settles inside my chest.
Feral. Calculated. Observant.
Every motherfucker that touched her tonight is going to die. Maybe not right this second, but at some point, they will not breathe another ounce of air, and their blood will be on her hands.
The fucking black widow of Hillcreek Bay strikes again.
“Yeah,” I answer flatly. “Maybe I do.”
By two in the morning, I’m beyond pissed off.
Firefly is officially fucking hammered. Laughing too loud. Touching too many people. Pretending she’s having the time of her life when every glance she sneaks towards me screams otherwise.
And I’m no better.
Rosie’s practically glued to my side while people make comments of how good we look together. I let her sit in my lap. Let her kiss my neck while Firefly watches all of it.
Toxic.
Every bit of this is toxic, but neither of us stops, because hurting each other somehow feels easier than admitting we’re both hopelessly in love, and eventually, I’ve had enough.
“C’mon,” I mutter to Rosie while standing. She grins immediately.
“Your place?” And I nod.
Maybe fucking someone else will finally get Ophelia outta my head for five goddamn minutes.
Spoiler alert—it won’t.
As we head toward the warehouse exit, I hear it.
A moan.
Soft. Breathless.
Familiar enough to stop my heart cold.
Ophelia.
I freeze instantly near the open side door, and there she is.
Pressed against the warehouse wall with some guy's mouth on her neck while her fingers fist in his shirt.
Drunk. Emotional. Trying way too hard to pretend she’s okay.
Rage floods my veins as my hands curl into fists.
The guy's hands are touching her everywhere. I watch with heavy breath as he lifts her by the thighs and sinks inside her.
I swallow thickly as her eyes flutter and her mouth parts slightly but then she sees me.
Right over his shoulder.
Those blue eyes lock onto mine while another fake little moan leaves her mouth.
Challenge. Punishment. Pain. All wrapped together.
My jaw clenches so hard it hurts.
Fine.
If she wants a war?
I’ll give her fucking a war.