s e l f i s h
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- Parts 9
"you ok? you look like you've been crying."
"yes i'm fine. let's go." i say in my low raspy voice. it sounds like i was crying too. she'll know somethings up so i tried walking past her fast. but i wasn't fast enough i felt her hand wrap around my wrist and tug me.
"stop you don't have to pretend. what happened."
"i'm just home sick. now mind your business you selfish prick." shit i didn't mean that. my face dropped and i turned pale.
"excuse me." she said above a whisper.
"nothing just forget it. i didn't mean it."
"is that how you really feel." she said.
"no i didn't mean it." her grip loosened and soon my hand feel next my lap. i messed up. bad.
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18 + my book has matured content "FUCK YOU! Fuck you, Ace!" I sobbed, the words coming out as a broken mess. I lunged for the handle and flung the door open, desperate for air-desperate for anyone who didn't look at me with that much cruelty. My eyes instantly collided with Carter's. His baby blue eyes were no longer nervous; they were blazing with a protective rage. He stood nearly as tall as Ace, his own ink-covered arms shaking with a fury that matched the man behind me. Beside him, Nichole was shaking, too, her face a mask of pure terror as she saw the state of me. Their expressions shifted in a heartbeat, their gazes darting behind me. I didn't even have time to see the shadow. A massive, calloused hand clamped onto my waist, hauling me backward off my feet with a violent jerk. Ace didn't even acknowledge the two of them; he just ignored their presence entirely and slammed the heavy steel door shut, the bolt sliding home with a finality that felt like a death sentence. "STOP TRYING TO LEAVE!" Ace screamed, his fingers digging into my arm as he hauled me farther into the dark belly of the locker room. I ripped myself from his grasp with a desperate surge of strength, stumbling back. My chest was heaving, my lungs burning as if the room had run out of oxygen. "Maybe I am trying to find someone to prostitute myself out to! Maybe Cox wants to buy me for a night! He needs someone to cheer him up after his fucking loss!" I lunged at him, shoving his chest with both hands, over and over. He didn't even flinch. It was like trying to push back a mountain of stone and ink. I felt like I was being choked, my breath coming in jagged, shallow hitches while my makeup smeared down my face, mixing with the hot tracks of my tears. I didn't know if I was crying because I was outraged or because I was completely devastated; I just knew I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to feel just an inch of the jagged glass cutting through me right now. (Cover is AI it's fake.)
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