Standing up, he tossed something onto the middle of my rumbled sheets and stalked toward me. I backed up until I hit a wall. Swearing under my breath, he halted just an inch short of the scissors and said, “You’ll change your mind, but I’ll give you a few days to think on it.”
“What-the-fuck-ever.”
His dancing gaze moved to the side of my face before flickering back to my eyes. “Purple suits you.”
Rage joined the fear inside me, nearly stifling it. I wanted to carve his eyes out, cut out his tongue, and serve his bloody heart to Angie on a platter. “You’ll never hit me again,” I vowed, my voice choppy from all the pent-up anger building.
He jerked toward me and then chuckled at my instinctual flinch. “The next time you’ll be begging me to save you from them.”
“It will be a cold day in Hell before that happens.”
His hand reached out as if to touch my cheek but I slapped it away, my self-preservation kicking in. “Don’t. Touch. Me,” I hissed between clenched teeth.
Chuckling, he walked toward the door, pausing on the threshold. “Welcome home, sis.”
Speed walking across the room, I slammed the door shut after him, not caring if I hit his heels with the door, and quickly threw the lock in place.
A good full five minutes passed before the shaking stopped and my heart steadied, yet knowing Carter lingered somewhere in the house kept me on edge.
I went straight for my phone, which Carter had tossed onto the bed. After a quick inspection, consisting of me trying to get the damn screen to turn on, I concluded it was dead. “Asshole,” I muttered between my teeth. The creep probably spent all night trying to crack the 4-digit passcode. And if he managed to unlock it, you know the asshole went through my phone, reading my texts and jerking off to my photos, all thoughts that made me want to puke my guts out.
Grabbing my charger, I rushed to pack a bag of clothes, a few makeup items, and other bathroom essentials. I stuffed them all into my pink duffel, including my Elmwood Academy uniform. The clothes I wore went straight into the trash as I changed into something clean.
Hauling my duffel and school bag stuffed with my laptop, I snatched the keys off the dresser and went back out the balcony, leaving my bedroom door locked from the inside. I doubted it would keep Carter out, and the idea of him going through my drawers made me queasy.
I took the stairs and went straight to the garage to deposit my crap inside the Lexus, a gift from Steven. I hated the cherry red color. I hated the blacked-out rims. I hated everything this car stood for. But right now, it was the only thing offering me the escape I sought—far, far from Carter Patterson.
My ass slid behind the wheel, and I plugged my phone into the charger as I started the engine. Putting the car into reverse, I backed out of the garage. My foot pressed down on the brake. I stared at Carter’s SUV. The urge to ram the SOB rose in me.
My stepbrother loved that stupid car.
Unable to help myself, I shifted the car and revved the engine.
The urge to hurt Carter any way I could whipped like a wild wind within me. This need for revenge came on strong. Maybe this devilish side of me had been dormant until now—until Carter.
There would come a time when my stepbrother would get what was coming to him. I needed to be patient. I needed to plan—to plot my revenge.
He wouldn’t get away with what he did to me.
Cranking the wheel, I gunned the Lexus out of the driveway, peeling into the street like I was in the Indy 500. Speed and danger curbed the fire for revenge—temporarily. And now that the match had been lit, I didn’t think the flame would truly ever extinguish, not until I had my justice.
For the first time, I grasped the Elite’s persistent desire for retribution.
My fingers remained firm on the wheel as I glided around the corner. Moments later, my phone chimed a few dozen times from where it charged in the cup holder, messages from last night and this morning finally coming through. I glanced down briefly, a rookie driving mistake, and when my eyes returned to the road, my gaze bulged at the car stopped in the middle of it.
What the f—
I slammed on the brakes, the Lexus fishtailing as it came to a screeching halt in front of a black Range Rover. My heart leaped into my throat, pumping in overtime. The windows were all tinted, and although I couldn’t see Brock’s burning gaze, I felt the heat of it.
I didn’t question how he knew where I’d run off to or that he had been waiting for me. Honestly, I’d been more worried if he hadn’t, but was it necessary to scare the shit out of me in the process? “Fuck,” I cursed, slamming my palms against the steering wheel.
Leaving his car in the middle of the road, he got out and stalked toward me. I opened my door and stepped out as he said, “What the fuck, Firefly! Do you have a death wish?”
Our front bumpers were practically kissing, but it wasn’t likeIwas trying to kill us. He was the one in the fucking road.
Then I realized he was talking about Carter.
Shit.