Violence (Antihero Inferno #3) - Lily White Page 0,79
worried for every member of the Inferno, as well as the two women who have gotten close to us, so hearing they were run off the road today didn’t make me feel any better.
If anything, it made me more agitated. And while Tanner and Gabe eventually came to the conclusion it was a random accident, I’m not as convinced.
I kept that thought to myself, though. I’m not entirely sure why, but I tend to let those two run through the process of making decisions about game plans, while I stay silent and fuck whatever shit up they ask when muscle is needed.
Thankfully, it’s rare anything needs to be enforced. Not since undergrad have Damon and I been asked to teach some idiot a lesson, but the deeper this crap gets, the more I’m worried our particular talents will be necessary again.
This situation with the servers is bothering me, though. Our fathers aren’t known for playing fair, and I think Tanner and Gabe are tempting fate by getting involved. I understand their need for revenge.
Trust me.
I understand it.
But at the same time, I’m not sure we’re even in the same league when it comes to our families. I wouldn’t put it past any of them to kill their own sons if it meant protecting their asses. And even though word has gotten out that Luca no longer has the servers, she could still have something they want, and we’re none the wiser about it.
It’s why I don’t believe that car accident was really an accident, and also why I started worrying about Emily even more.
Then again, Emily has always been part of this. Mason’s and her family want the marriage to happen, for what reason, I don’t know. But it’s unlikely she’ll be targeted like Luca.
Ivy was smart to run the hell out of this state. If she’s smart, she’ll keep running and not let Gabe catch up to her.
All of that put me in a shit mood before I returned home. And what I walked inside to find? Yeah. I’m seeing red at this point.
I can hear Damon calling my name as I walk upstairs and down the hall to my room, concern in his voice for what I caught him doing.
What in the actual fuck was that?
I know Emily made mistakes in high school, and I made peace with the fact it was because, technically, she was playing by the rules we had back then. But I can’t write it off as confusion on her part now. Not after what happened with us at her house.
Not after the promises she’s already made and broken.
Slamming my door on the way into my room, I punch a fucking hole in the wall to bleed some of this rage out. I should be better controlled than this, but that woman makes me burn in ways no other person can.
I drop down to sit on the side of my bed, my head falling into my hands when the door swings open and Damon walks in. I don’t miss how his shoulders are rounded and his stance is wide. He’s ready for a fight just in case I attack him.
“We need to talk about this.”
“You need to get the fuck out of my room before I rip your fucking head off,” I answer, my voice ice cold.
“Ezra, seriously, you need to-“
I snap, my body shoving up from the bed to storm toward him, my hands slamming against his chest as I knock him back against a wall.
Gripping his shirt with my fist, I cock my arm back with every intention of beating his face in, but then a commanding voice screams beside us before I have the chance.
“Stop!”
Our heads turn Emily’s direction to find her standing only feet from us, tears in her eyes that are more angry than sad.
Rage paints a pink color over her pale cheeks, her crimson hair falling in waves down the sides of her face, her lips a thin line of disapproval as she keeps her narrowed stare locked directly on me.
Like I’m the problem here.
Like I’m the asshole who isn’t playing fair.
Like she’s the queen that holds the leash of two dogs going after each other.
She might as well have yelled sit and stay for the way she just gave her order.
“Let Damon go.”
I cock a brow at that because normally I’m not one to follow commands. When I don’t release him immediately, she raises her voice, that seductive fire inside her making itself known.