I bend, capturing her lips with mine, catching her by surprise. She hesitates for a shadow of a second before moaning, allowing me access to her tantalizing mouth. I hear the hiss of breath before the sound of Rowan’s voice.
“You’re such a lucky girl we’re at school,” he whispers, sparking her awareness, and she pulls back. The momentary fog of lust disappears, and she pushes out of our hold, striding over to a smirking Shay.
“Let’s go. These idiots need to cool off,” Emma states, her cheeks still flushed.
“I don’t know. I think you could use about five more hours of that heat,” Shay teases.
Emma throws her hands up, exasperated by all of our behavior. “You’re all incorrigible,” she stammers, storming out of the room.
Shay laughs and follows her out of the room.
I turn back in time to see the varying looks of adoration and lust on their faces.
“You two assholes should be happy that she was so turned on by our proximity that she didn’t remember she doesn’t like you,” Karl jests, pointing between Liam and Rowan.
They both nod. “That means there’s still hope for us yet,” Liam says, longing filling his tone.
Oh, he has it bad.
Welcome to the club.
Rowan is on board but still apprehensive. Seb is now the lone man on the ‘I won’t fall for her island.’
“Your whore won’t be around for long,” Samantha’s annoying voice chimes as she exits the room, obliterating the moment and reminding me of my earlier frustrations.
Rowan’s hand comes down on my shoulder, “Good luck with that,” he mocks.
I flip him off and chant to myself. ‘
There are no conjugal visits in prison.’
* * *
“I know we haven’t quite gotten along- not in a very long time, but don’t you remember how close we used to be?”
Each time Samantha speaks, I want to rip out her vocal cords. The annoying bitch hasn’t stopped yammering the entire ride. We’re almost at our destination, and we can’t get there soon enough.
“Are you going to just pretend like you don’t hear me? This isn’t in the spirit of the rules, you know, Wy,” she coos, attempting to coax me to engage with her.
Ten more minutes. I can last ten more long, excruciating minutes.
“This would all be different if you’d just give me a chance. I didn’t do it, you know. I swear I didn’t know what would happen. I was ten, for fuck’s sake,” she whimpers.
I ignore the fake ho- she’s a master manipulator.
Seven minutes.
“You should treat me better-you all should. If it weren’t for me, your perfect Emma would’ve been raped,” Samantha snarls.
That gets my attention. My head turns from the road, assessing her honesty before refocusing on the road. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I demand.
“Of course, that’s what would finally get you to break your silence,” she mumbles, almost resignedly.
“Stop your whining and tell me what the hell you’re talking about,” I grit through clenched teeth. If she knew the amount of patience I’m wielding in order not to choke her, she’d just answer my question.
Five minutes.
I keep staring at the clock on the dashboard. We’re so close.
Two minutes.
When she speaks again, her voice is barely audible. “They were going to rape her, but then I was taken, and they didn’t want her touched, so they took me instead. They said she meant more to you all and that seeing what happened to me and what could happen to her would make you all fall in line,” she’s yelling by the time she finishes.
Fuck.
I’m about to do the impossible- offer her comfort, but the bitch keeps speaking as I pull to a stop.
“It should’ve been her! That cow could’ve taken it- she deserves it,” Samantha shrieks as I slam the car into park.
I rip open the door and storm to her side, yanking on the handle. “You’re all fucking idiots!” Her fake tears are dried up, and rage consumes her cold blue eyes, “Following behind some worthless trash troll when you could have me.”
Fire fills my veins as I grip her by her hair, dragging her from the car and across the dirt-covered ground. I didn’t feel any remorse for my plans for the evening, but now I feel utter glee.
Her hands reach up to claw at my hands, trying to break free from my hold, but I tug her by her follicles, making her trip and land on her ass. She turns over, hoping to gain leverage-it’s too late. I’m already at the fence.
I slam her body into the fence, making her wail in surprise, giving me enough time to pin her hand and lock her into the waiting handcuffs.
“You never know when to shut the fuck up,” I snarl. “I was just going to kick you out of the car and make you find a ride home, but now I’m going to make you work for it.”
She thrashes on the ground, attempting to yank her hand out of the cuff. “You can’t fucking leave me here,” Samantha shouts.
I turn, grabbing her face and squeezing. “That’s where you’re wrong. You haven’t seemed to figure it out yet. I can do whatever the fuck I want- we can do whatever the fuck we want. It’s you who has no control over anything,” I seethe, dropping my grip and storming back to the car.
“Be happy I left one hand free and your phone so that you can dial a ride. Hopefully, they get to you before the landfill opens or an animal comes,” I say without looking back.
Once I’m back in the car, I grab my phone, snap a picture, and then send it with the caption ‘taking out the trash’ into our group chat.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.