Cecily stands in front of it, talking to the car owner while rubbing her arms. Up and down.
Her expression is solemn, her face is caught in its ethereal calm, and her cheeks are flushed.
I try to imagine that it’s only because of the chilly night, that it’s not because she’s talking to that fucker Landon.
After leaving me inside.
It takes me a few moments to regulate my breathing. If I act right now, I’ll kill him and choke the fuck out of her.
Calm the fuck down.
Easier said than done when my muscles are tightening, demanding I pummel the fucker to the ground and claim her in his blood as I promised to.
I wait in the shadows for a beat. Two.Ten.
Then I stalk in their direction. I wouldn’t say I’m in complete control of my physical power, but I know exactly where my priorities are.
“Can’t you just stop?” Her words reach me first, soft, imploring, like whenever she’s trying to convince me of something.
The fact that she’s using it on that motherfucker Landon smashes all my attempts to remain calm.
“I’ll stop when I’m dead.” He grins and reaches a hand out to her.
I grab it before he can touch her, then twist it, and I’m about to break his wrist, but he follows my movements and slips away at the last second.
“Hi there, Jeremy. I see you’re a brute as always.” He flings his wrist in the air. “I need my beautiful hands to sculpt, you uncultured swine.”
“One more reason to break your fucking fingers.” I advance toward him, and he curls his hands that he was just bitching about into fists.
Landon is the only art student I know who’s into violence while knowing full well that he could lose his sculpting future in a freak incident at any time, like tonight.
“Jeremy, stop it.” Cecily comes to my side, her body shaking and her voice choked up, probably knowing exactly how much she fucked up.
“Shut up.” I glare at her over my shoulder. “I’ll deal with you in a bit.”
Gentle fingers grab my bicep and effortlessly try to pull me back. I whirl around, grab her by the shoulders, and shake her so hard that she gasps, her entire body going into shock.
“Stop fucking defending him,” I roar, and she freezes, then blinks, a shine gathering in her bottom lids. “The more you take his side, the more adamant I’ll become about finishing his miserable life.”
Cecily trembles in my hold and a loathsome expression I thought would never appear on her face again slowly materializes in front of me.
Fear.
She’s scared of me. We’re back to square one, where she counts her breaths and words around me. Where she doesn’t trust me.
And it’s all because of this motherfucker—
“This has been nice and all, but I have other matters more important than brawling with you, Heathen.” He grins at me through the open window of his car. “Take it easy on our Cecy. She can be sensitive. Remember, I’m always the better choice, love.”
And then his car revs down the road before I can snatch him out and make him one with the ground.
Cecily shrugs her shoulder, using my distraction to free herself of my hold. “I’m going back inside.”
I grab her by the elbow and wrench her around to face me. “Why don’t you tell me what type of rendezvous you had with Landon first?”
“There was no rendezvous. But if I’d told you he wanted to talk, you wouldn’t have believed me.”
“Why does he have to talk to you in the back of an alley? If there was really nothing, why did you have to sneak around?”