DEADLY DECEPTION

CHAPTER 27

AVERY'S POV

The room fell into complete silence. Every single pair of eyes locked onto Rick the moment he stepped in, his presence sucking the air out of the place. He didn't say a word. He didn't have to. The weight of his stare was enough to make most men shrink. But not Thomas.

Thomas smirked, leaning back like he owned the fucking place. "Well, look who finally decided to show up. What, Rick? Took you this long to crawl out of whatever hellhole you came from?"

That did it.

The rage that had been simmering in my veins exploded. Before I even realized it, I lunged at Thomas again, my fist flying toward his smug face.

"Fucking bastard!"

I didn't care about anything else right now. Not the people in the room. Not the consequences. All I wanted was to shut him up. To make him pay for every damn word that had come out of his filthy mouth tonight.

Rick moved fast, stepping between us before I could do more damage. His arm hooked around my waist, pulling me back, but I fought against him, my body twisting in his grip.

And then—

Thomas opened his mouth again.

"Feisty little thing. Wonder if you moan just as loud when—"

I didn't hear the rest.

Rick's hands vanished from my waist. He let go.

Just like that. No restraint. No warning.

I didn't waste a second. My fist slammed into Thomas's face, hard enough that he staggered back, cursing. The satisfaction of hearing his pained grunt fueled me, and I moved to hit him again, but suddenly, I was lifted off the ground.

Rick's arms locked around me, dragging me away as I thrashed against him.

"Let me go!"

I screamed, my hands clawing at his grip, but he didn't budge. Not even a little. He carried me out of the room, ignoring my kicks, my struggles—hell, even the venom spilling from my mouth.

His grip stayed firm. Dominating. Unshaken.

As Rick carried me out, my eyes flickered toward the others. Fred stood frozen, eyebrows raised so high they nearly touched his hairline. His mouth was slightly open, like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

Bryce, on the other hand, looked impressed as hell. A slow smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze shifting between me and Thomas, like he was mentally replaying the punch in slow motion for his own entertainment.

And then there was George—his face twisted in disbelief, hands pressed to his temples as if he had a goddamn headache. His eyes darted to Rick, then back to me, and I swore I saw his lips move in a silent What the actual fuck?

None of them dared to step in.

Not with Rick like this.

Not with the way his grip never loosened, his expression unreadable as he dragged me down the hall.

I barely registered the sound of a door slamming before I was thrown onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to shut me up. I pushed myself up, breathless, still fueled by adrenaline, but Rick was already there—looming over me, his face unreadable, his eyes dark as the fucking abyss.

"What the fuck happened?"

I swallowed hard, my chest still rising and falling from the fight. I couldn't look away from him.

"Thomas," I muttered, my voice hoarse.

"He—he told me things. About you. Your past. How you were as a kid."