Chapter 16 Dread #2
Her eyes narrow, highly unamused, but that only makes it funnier.
“For your information, I don’t feel like dealing with the fallout of accusing HCU’s golden boy of kidnapping.
Not because of… of that.” She waves a flippant hand toward my lap and then deliberately turns her back toward me, crossing her arms and nearly face-planting into the window again—but not before muttering another insult beneath her breath. “Asshole.”
I bite back another bout of laughter. I glance over at her, pouting and angry, and a weird feeling erodes my chest before sinking to my stomach.
It’s something like happiness, but sharper and more thrilling.
I’ve never felt it before, but I refuse to dissect it.
It’s been a long fucking night, and we’re both a little out of sorts.
Reverie’s phone dings, and she glances down before she seems to freeze. The energy immediately shifts, turning the surrounding air into ice.
Any trace of humor is gone as I ask, “What?”
She swallows thickly, hesitating to look up from her phone and meet my eyes. When she finally does, she looks like a deer in headlights—shocked, confused, and like she’s struggling to process something.
“I called Barry after I found the note in my room. He just got off the phone with Lionel’s parole officer,” she rasps, her voice hoarse. Then she licks her lips, before saying, “I… I guess Lionel’s home.” She frowns, as if she can’t believe she said that.
My eyebrows jump. Truthfully, I’m not exactly sure how to feel about that.
Relieved? Pissed? I don’t even know what to think.
“Lionel never asked to come to Colorado, so he would’ve been breaking parole if he did come here. His officer went to his house to check, and I-I guess he’s there.”
I nod slowly, trying to process that. I feel her eyes boring into the side of my head again, a suspicious weight to her stare.
“Before you accuse me, no, I didn’t leave you a note,” I tell her dryly. “What I want to know is why you thought it was Lionel in the first place.”
“He called me Angel. He used to call me that when I was a kid, and I haven’t ever told anyone about it. Not even the media.”
“Can’t say I knew that, either. And he never called you Angel in your interview with Connor,” I confirm.
That, I do know. I’ve watched that goddamn interview so many times, I’ve memorized the entire thing.
Brows pinched, she stares down at her phone sightlessly.
“He could’ve still put someone up to it,” I say. “It was probably Roxi.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, I know it's not what either of us truly believes.
“Or the copycat,” she whispers. “They could be working together.”
My jaw clenches, almost irritated with her for saying it aloud. Because the second she does, a potent fury fills my chest. Except, for what feels like this the first time, it's not at her, but for her. And I really don't like that.
“Staying in my dorm is the best option,” I declare, my tone firm. “Regardless of who put the note there, it was obviously on Lionel’s behalf, which means he might not be here yet, but it sounds like he will be soon.”
I fucking hope he comes.
I would be happy for that motherfucker to show up at my door.
Fucking hell, the mere thought of getting to see him again and do everything my eight-year-old self wished to do but never could… That thought has my muscles swelling with a bloodlust that makes my mouth water.
I pull into the parking lot of my dorm and park the car before shutting off the ignition.
Reverie doesn’t move, arms crossed again, stubbornly glaring out her window.
“Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder,” I warn, keeping my voice calm.
She sighs softly and thumps her forehead against the window.
“I’m not just going to move in with you, Dread,” she grumbles. “We can’t even stand to be around one another on a good day, and you want me to stay with you?”
I give her a confused look. “I’ve always enjoyed being around you, darling.”
A growl rumbles from her throat, and she’s snapping her head toward me, her stare full of fire. I don’t bother containing my smirk.
Now when I see those eyes, all I can picture is the way she stared at me while I ate her cunt—bright, pleading, and so goddamn open. I could read every thought in her head. And when she sucked on my cock like I was feeding her for the first time in years…
I need to see it again. Just… a few more times.
“I’m pretty sure we’ve already established you don’t get to go back on your word,” I remind her, and her gaze goes from a match flame to a wildfire in a matter of seconds.
“That wasn’t part of the deal,” she snaps. “You gave me an ultimatum, and I chose. It’s done.”
My brows rise and my smirk widens. “Until you made me a new promise.” I lean across the armrest between us, and she shrinks farther back, only deepening my amusement.
I fucking love making her squirm. “If you need reminding, you said you’d do anything.
So you agreed I own every part of you, that you won’t take or beg for anyone else’s cock but mine.
And like any decent human being, I let you come. ”
Her jaw hardens, and her eyes narrow into thin slits.
“We both know you're far from decent,” she spits.
“But it doesn't matter, anyway. Even if I don’t fuck someone else, that doesn’t mean I have to fuck you.
You didn't exactly give me something to keep begging for. In fact, I would be perfectly content to never be so unfortunate as to see or touch your dick for the rest of this lifetime, and every one thereafter.”
Every word feels like claws sinking into my chest, tearing it apart, leaving a gaping hole behind. What was left of my rational thinking was hanging on to the edge of that crater by a fingertip, and she went and fucking stomped on it. Now, it's forever lost in the deep chasm her ire created.
I refuse to let her see just how deeply bothered I am by it, giving her a faux frown instead. “Come on, Rev. You’re my girlfriend now. You’ll be sleeping in my bed for the foreseeable future. Last time I checked, boyfriends fuck their girlfriends. Often.”
I had absolutely no intention of saying that, but the second it leaves my mouth, I realize it's fucking perfect.
Not only does making her my girlfriend provide me with a great excuse to kiss and touch her, but it'll humiliate her, too.
Everyone will see her as pathetic for fucking the guy who spent his entire college career degrading her.
But even better, it allows me to protect her, which means she'll be spending a lot of time at my side.
When Lionel finally shows up for his daughter, I'll be right there with her.
Her mouth pops open, and she sputters at me. It’s truly adorable the amount of time it takes for her to regain control over her motor function again.
“I am not your fucking girlfriend, Dread!” she shouts, getting in my face.
There’s my little spitfire.
Excitement packs the wound in my chest, and her rage stitches it back together again.
I grin, my eyes dropping to her pretty lips as she yells at me.
Yeah, it’s definitely the perfect plan.
“Did your brain short-circuit when you came? Because I don’t know what the hell makes you think I’d ever date you. Clearly, you’re not fucking thinking at all.”
Little does she know, I’ve done nothing but think since the moment I finished coming inside her. Maybe it's not rational, but it's productive.
My smile widens as I lean closer to her until our noses are only inches apart.
“I think it’s mutually beneficial. I’ll protect you from Daddy dearest, and if he comes knockin’, I’m very fucking happy to answer that door for you.”
I glance at her lips again, my tongue darting out to wet mine. I keep my stare locked on them until I’m finished saying, “And in the meantime, I’ll keep you warm at night while you keep my cock warm.”
She blanches. “Absolutely not. I don’t even need your protection.”
“You do,” I say bluntly. “You said it yourself, he’s dangerous. And as I see it, you have no one else here to keep you safe.”
She scoffs, a humorless laugh tittering out of her. “And you’re going to be the one to do that? Last I checked, I need to be kept safe from you.”
I shrug. “Not anymore. Things have changed, baby. You’re all mine now, and there isn’t a goddamn soul on this planet who will touch a hair on your little head, including your father.”
She blinks, and I pull away to open the door, stepping out into the frosted air. Her eyes track me the entire way around the front of my car to her door. By the time I open it, she’s still gaping at me.
“You’re insane,” she whispers.
I lean in and unbuckle her seat belt. She’s frozen solid as I pause right before her, caging her between my arms, her sweet mouth less than an inch from mine.
“And you’re mine,” I murmur.
She swallows thickly, and after very deliberately dropping my gaze to her lips again, I grin and return my focus to her just before pulling away, taking all her breath with me.
“Let’s go, darling. It’s freezing out here, and I have an early, drug-free morning.”
“Never again, brother. Never. Fucking. Again.”
I’ve only just emerged from the water, where Rogue crouches at the end of my lane, glowering down at me.
Coach has been on the verge of drowning me today, and I’ve already puked up my breakfast once. Not that it stopped him from shouting at me to get back in the water once I finished.
The rest of the team left an hour ago, but Coach kept me after to run a few more drills, and Rogue hung back to wait for me. I’m finally done for the morning, but I’m due back here later this evening for yet another practice.
I wave at him to back off, which he does with an eye roll, giving me enough room to pull myself out of the water. My arms are fucking noodles, and my blood sugar is dangerously low. The perfect time to listen to Rogue’s bitching.