Jeremy:Next time I see you, I will be the one who holds you down and fucks you until you’re screaming while you’re bouncing off my cock.
A splash of heat slithers through me and I try—then fail—not to clench my legs.
It’s not fair how much he can affect me with mere words.
Jeremy:I’m going home for a few days. There’s a situation with Annika that I’m sure you’re fully aware of.
I stiffen for a completely different reason.
He knows about Annika and Creigh.
Dammit.
Cecily:Are you taking her home? To your father? Why?
Jeremy:She wanted to convince him and I’ll be there to prove that she can’t.
Cecily:Don’t do that to her.
Jeremy:Worry about yourself and don’t even try to provoke me. Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean I won’t take action.
Cecily:Just like what you did to the guys from the other night?
Jeremy:They deserved more.
Cecily:Did you also hurt TKU’s American football team because of me?
Jeremy:Maybe.
I pace the length of the room, feeling hot to the core and not in a good way.
He’s not even going to deny it or offer excuses.
Cecily:You can’t just beat people up because they talked to me, Jeremy. That’s not how this works.
Jeremy:I don’t give a fuck about whatever this is or how it fucking works. You let me deal with it when it comes to outside threats.
Cecily:You mean to let you beat up and eventually kill people? I will never get behind that.
Jeremy:You’ll learn to. Didn’t you ask for more of me? This is me, Cecily. I feel not an ounce of remorse for those fuckers. If anything, I’d do it again and again, until death transforms from dread to a luxury. I’ll torture them until they can’t recognize their own images in the mirror, and I’ll do it often, repeatedly, and with gradual brutality, until there’s nothing left of them.
The words start to blur due to the sting in my eyes. A powerful emotion snakes through me and leaves me breathless.
It’s fear, I realize.
I’m scared of this part of Jeremy. The inhumane, ruthless side who wouldn’t blink before offing people. Though it shouldn’t come as a surprise considering his background, but it’s the first time I put him in a frame.
One in which I’ll probably suffer from incidents like these constantly. As long as I’m with him, he’ll find a reason to hurt others.
I need to leave this place.
After changing my clothes in record time, I grab my phone and storm out the front door but come to a halt on the threshold.
Ilya stands there, arms crossed in front of him. He’s dressed in casual clothing and a denim jacket that I think I saw a gun hidden beneath last night.
His face is a bit angular yet handsome, but his blank expression never changes. I don’t think I’ve seen any feelings on his face.
Sort of like Jeremy most of the time.