And then my brain catches up to my body, and I remember the cost of letting Royal sweep me away. I fight his grip, twisting and writhing until I wrench myself free. I shove backwards and swing before the lust has even cleared from his eyes.
“How dare you?” I snarl at him.
My rings crunch into his nose, and I feel something give. His eyelids flutter as he blinks rapidly, stumbling back a step.
“How dare you think you have the right to touch me?”
I swing again, connecting with his mouth this time. The skin of his beautiful lips splits under my knuckles. I relish the sensation. I want him to hurt.
“How dare you think you can kiss me?”
This time, he ducks, grabbing my wrist. I go in with my left fist, sinking it into his ribs. He flinches, but he doesn’t release my right hand. He pries it open, wrenching the weapon from my hand and hurling it to the ground. It skitters across the wet pavement and slides to a stop against the curb.
“How dare Ikissyou?” he taunts. “You stuck my dick in your mouth not an hour ago.”
“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I say, slamming my left fist into his cheek. “We are not on equal footing. You don’t get to question me. You don’t get to chase guys away from me and then go stick your dick in your fuck buddy. How fucking dare you think you can kiss me after that? That you can talk to me the way you talked to me in the hall at school? That you have any say whatsoever in what I do with my life?”
He just stands there holding my wrist, keeping me away as I writhe and kick at his shins.
“I can talk to you any fucking way I want,” he snaps. “Because you’re still mine, Harper.”
“Fuck you,” I scream, losing all control. “I’d rather you beat my face in like you did Colt’s than ever kiss me again. So either do it, or let go of me and let me do it.”
“Then do it,” he says. “Get it over with, because I’m sure as hell going to kiss you again.”
His words lift me on a tide of pure, incinerating rage. He releases my hand, and I slam my fist into his face again. My knuckles slide against the blood, my blow muted by the swelling. I remember the way his blows sounded when he’d hit Colt so many times he wasn’t striking bone anymore. I hit him again, and again, and again.
Finally, tears and rain blur my vision, and I stumble back, trying to catch my breath, to get control. I don’t know how long I’ve been beating his face and neck and chest. His eyes are both blackening already, his eyebrow split and bleeding. Blood is pouring from his mouth and nose, down the front of his shirt, soaking it faster than the rain.
I stare at him in horror, wondering where the hell I just was, if I became a monster like Royal, out of my body, like someone else was acting in my place.
Before I can say anything, he grabs me by the shoulders again and smashes his bloody mouth to mine. I cry out in shock, even though he warned me. When I twist my face away, he pulls back and grabs my necklace in his fist.
“How dareyouwear this fucking necklace and rub it in my face?” he growls, wrenching it from my neck. I stumble against him, but the clasp breaks, and he hurls the necklace across the road. “I know what that fucking means. It means you’re spreading your legs for a Darling boy, just like my sister. It was bad enough seeing it around her neck, and now I have to pretend I don’t see it around yours?”
“How dare you tell me who I can spread my legs for?” I scream at him. “You didn’t give me that choice last spring, did you?”
“How dare you send me videos of you fucking the man you know I hate more than anyone in this world?” he snaps back. “And that’s saying a lot, because the list is real fucking long. You want to see me lose my fucking mind, Harper? Send me one more picture of that motherfucker, and I swear, you won’t like what happens next.”
“Why do you even care who I fuck?” I snap. “An hour ago, you admitted that no one would ever want to touch me again. Andthatlist includes you. So don’t tell me I can’t find whatever semblance of comfort I’m capable of with the only person you’ve destroyed more completely than me.”
He stares at me, his eyes burning with rage. “Take off his jacket,” he says, his voice low and deadly.
“Fuck you,” say, stomping to the car.
Royal steps in front of me just before I reach it, and I catch the look in his eyes. My heart stops. I dart to the other side, ducking past him, but he spins and catches me around the waist from behind. He turns and throws me backwards, and I land hard on the hood of the car. I roll up, but he hops onto the bumper and plows onto me, slamming me down on my back.
“I said, take off his fucking jacket,” he growls.
I feel the metal dent under our weight, but I don’t care about the fucking car. For a minute, we wrestle wordlessly as he drags the jacket over my arm. At last, I manage to roll over, but he uses the motion to peel the jacket off me and wrench it off my other arm. He throws it into the grass and flips me back onto my back, straddling my hips.
“I hate you,” I rage at him, swinging a hand. My palm smacks across his cheek so hard it stings. “You’re a sick, rotten bastard, and I can’t believe I ever let you touch me.”
“I hate you, too, you fucking bitch.” He grabs my chin and squeezes, his fingers cutting into my cheeks until my mouth is forced open. He leans down over me, works his jaw, and spits a long stream of warm blood into my mouth.
I’m so shocked I swallow before I can help myself. Then I slap him again, my palm connecting with his crimson-streaked cheek and peppering my arms with flecks of his blood. I spit, trying to clear my mouth of his blood, and it sprays over his cheeks. He blinks it away and pins my hands, leaning down again. I think he’s going to spit on me, but instead, he swipes his tongue up my face, leaving a wide, wet track of saliva up my cheek, replacing the blood and tears and rain.
“I’m not just going to kiss you, baby,” he says. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to like it.”