Violence (Antihero Inferno #3) - Lily White Page 0,25

table near me and tips the bottle to his lips. For some reason, it fascinates me.

If I’m not careful I’ll end up addicted to Ezra, which means it will only hurt more when I have to walk away.

“We only have six weeks left of school,” I say, not really sure why.

Another sly grin before he finishes off the beer he’s holding with a few powerful swallows.

Setting the empty bottle down on a side table with exaggerated care, he glances up at me, the shadows of the room disguising the discoloration on his skin I know is there.

“The way I see it, that means you have six weeks to come out of your shell and be as crazy as the rest of us.”

“I’m not in a shell.”

Except, that’s not true at all, is it?

I’ve been sheltered.

At least when it comes to guys and all that entails.

I often feel like I’m standing in a sea of faces, all these lives flowing around me with their own directions, while I’m stuck in place waiting for a marriage that was demanded of me before I had the chance to take my first full breath.

That fact is made even clearer when Ezra steps closer to me, and my heart thumps like a trapped rabbit, my pulse so jagged I can feel it everywhere.

My skin feels electrified, a buzzing that’s both a warning and a plea.

But for what?

Him?

Or what he represents?

This isn’t just about the boy, it’s about me.

About my choices.

About the freedom I want to make those choices.

And while those thoughts spark and burn inside my mind, he dips his head to take up all my vision, to be the only thing I see.

This feral, carnal, predator of a boy who fights as good as he dances, who is as kind as he is cruel, who mystifies me and keeps me constantly knocked off balance.

“You’re in a shell, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

His voice is a rough whisper, those beguiling eyes of his trapping mine.

“So what do you want to do about it in the next six weeks?”

The buzzing is stronger now, like I’m a live wire that’s fallen and is popping and cracking on the ground. It doesn’t help that his energy adds to it, a wild, untamable violence that dares me to do what I want for once.

I want to be wild and untamable like him, if only for six weeks.

“Just fun?” I ask, somehow managing to speak around the knot in my throat.

“Whatever kind you want.”

Our mouths are a teasing inch apart, breath soft and mingling.

Closing my eyes, I feel him all around me, this kinetic, extravagant force that steals my ability to think.

What do I want?

Him?

Them?

All of it and nothing at all?

Six weeks to pretend that I’m not trapped.

Six weeks to take for myself all the parts of my life I don’t want to give to Mason.

I open my eyes and become lost in an amber stare that will always represent chaos and freedom.

“Nobody will know?” I whisper.

The tip of his tongue drags across the crease of his lips, and I watch that movement before locking my gaze with his again.

“Nobody will talk about it,” he answers, his voice barely disrupting the silence of my indecision. “I’ll make sure of that.”

I think that’s good enough for me.

Damn it.

Every girl gets to be crazy at one point in her life, right?

Reaching forward with shaky hands, I grab the sides of his jacket and shove it off his shoulders. The material slips down Ezra’s arms as his eyes hold mine, his body moving slowly to help me strip the jacket away entirely.

I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know if I think too much, I’ll convince myself to stop. Which is why I don’t think. I just keep going.

Ezra watches me while I struggle to unbutton his shirt with fumbling fingers, an enigmatic stare that doesn’t rush me along or attempt to guide my decision.

He’s letting me call the shots, and I think that if he didn’t remain still, I’d stop, only because I’m so skittish right now.

Working my way down, I tug the hem of his shirt out from where it’s tucked and finish unbuttoning it.

There’s another quick second of hesitancy before I think fuck it and press my palms against the heat of his chest to shove the shirt from his shoulders as well.

Once he wriggles the shirt away entirely to let it fall to the floor, I pause to see the extent of damage to