“What the fuck did I tell you about calling her names?” I spit.
If anyone can be mad about what Malia did, then I should get that honor. Bastian was the only piece in the game that came out unscathed. I bled my heart out to her.
It doesn’t make sense that I care what he says about Malia. Nothing was real, and it was all just a game to her. She only cared about finding out what information I had on her father and making it disappear.
But was it really a lie?
I’ve wracked my brain stupid since the day it happened in an attempt to make sense of everything. Could someone really be good enough of an actor to make me believe everything I saw? The way she looked at me. Touched me. Kissed me.
A lot of mysteries were solved once her true identity was revealed, particularly her fighting ability and nonchalance about hanging around an underground fight club. Not to mention the malice that seemed to be buried deep in her emerald-green eyes, always wanting to work its way out. The biggest mystery, though, is what transpired between us.
I also can’t understand why it’s so fucking hard to let her go, regardless of how pissed I am over the situation. I still want her despite everything.
But I can’t, and I won’t.
I ultimately fell in love with the daughter of the man I’ve dedicated my life to destroying. The man who ripped my family apart, and the catalyst to my shitshow of a life.
Bastian stares at me in confusion as my jaw begins to ache from the tension caused by keeping it clenched. He sighs, then rubs a hand down his mostly covered face.
“Man, she fucked with both of us. After everything that’s happened, you can’t seriously still be protecting her honor.” He raises an eyebrow and drops his hand. Without thinking, I grab his arm and twist his body, slamming his head down on the trunk of my car.
Satisfaction ripples through me at the way it bounces off. I steady him, leaning into his ear.
“The only one that gets to disrespect Malia Olin is me,” I snap. “She didn’t fuck with you, Bass. You didn’t see the disgust on her face every time your lips were on her. If you want to continue thinking you were important in this web of hers, then remember this: The only time Malia gagged for me was when she was trying to take my cock further down her throat, not at the thought of touching me. Which she did. A lot.”
I push against Bastian while releasing him, taking a few steps back as he rounds on me. The mask has uncovered his face a little, and I can see some blood trickling down his mouth. His nose flares, and I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to say something stupid so I can plant my fist in his face.
“You let her get under your skin,” Bastian says while stepping into me.
From what I’ve learned, my ex-best friend has an issue with his anger. He began displaying behaviors I hadn’t seen in him before—just like now.
I sneer at him, welcoming him to continue. After my fight at Limbo months ago, that ultimately led me to being indefinitely banned, I haven’t had the pleasure of pummeling into a motherfucker in too long. I’m itching to break someone’s jaw, and Bastian Collins looks like he’s offering his up.
“Mila snuck her way between us, despite everything, becauseyoucouldn’t leave her the hell alone.” He shoves me, and I break my stance and step back, shocked by his confession. “The problem is she was withme, and you still pursued her!”
That’s the one thing I have yet to figure out. Why Bastian? If getting to me was the goal, then why didn’t Malia come for me directly?
“Has your ego left you that fucking delusional, Bass?” I snap. “You’re this wound up over a woman who didn’t want you at all? You were nothing but the easiest chess piece to move on the board. I was the goal all along.Milawasn’t fucking real!”
I shove Bastian back into my car, but he straightens quickly.
“Are you pissed at me because she got under my skin,” I grind out, “or are you pissed because you built a fucking fairy tale within the five minutes that Malia Olin showed you mock interest?”
He chuckles as he wipes at the frozen blood on his face. I imagine I’m no different, standing here defending a woman who lied to me. The sneer on his face is the only warning I get before he spews more bullshit out of his mouth.
“You and that fucking whore deserve each other,” he says with a smirk before pivoting and starting to walk off.
My hand snaps out, grabbing him by the back of his coat and yanking him so he’s once again in front of me. Readjusting my grip to grab the front of his winter jacket, I wind my fist back and slam it into his face. In a sick way, the sound of bone breaking under my fist is instantly cathartic.
Bastian grunts, trying to break my hold on him as my fist continues to pummel into him. My vision goes red while I chase the relief from all the built-up tension I’ve felt over the past few weeks.
I don’t know how many punches I’ve thrown by the time I’m dragged off of Bastian’s limp body. My vision clears, and I notice that we’ve somehow stumbled onto the ground. His limp body lays in front of me, until Oren’s pissed-off face blocks my view.
“He’ll be alright, just beat up pretty bad. Ambulance is on the way. It looks like he’s got some broken bones,” I hear a voice say that I don’t recognize.
I stand on my shaky legs, adrenaline still pumping through my system. Oren stands with me, and I look around him to see the man sprawled out on the ground. Bastian’s awake, brown eyes are hidden behind two swollen sockets, and his breathing is shallow.
The blood on his face makes him nearly unrecognizable, and I apparently tore through some of his clothing while holding on to him. When he smiles through a bloody mouth, I lunge forward, but Oren is quick to stop me.