by me.
I kept my bare feet rooted to the spot as adrenaline pulsed through my limbs, making my knees shake. I wanted to lunge at him again. As if Rogue could sense what I was thinking, he was suddenly on me, gripping my arm so hard that I was certain it would bruise.
“Scarlett,” he growled it like my name was a curse, before yanking me through the parting crowd. “Nobody fucks with the Heirs.”
I still was clinging to that anger, although regret was waiting at the ready, prepared to drown me in anxiety about all the consequences of what I’d just done. “Looks like I just did,” I replied with a sneer, hoping my voice didn’t sound as crazed as it felt. I pressed my bare feet into the ground, struggling to keep upright as he stormed through his house. I didn’t have to look behind us to know that the rest of the guys were following. Luis, Bonham, and Godfrey were hot on his heels, and he didn’t stop until I was stumbling up the stairs and thrown onto the floor of his bedroom.
I smiled when I realized the slush Stephanie threw on me was bright red. It was staining the white carpet covering his floor, looking like blood in his crisp, pristine room. I was glad I’d stain his carpet. It meant he’d have to remember this.
Rogue surged forward and grabbed the fabric of my black dress, yanking me up until our faces were just inches apart. His knuckles grazed the bare skin at my chest.
“You have two options, Scar,” Rogue said while cracking his knuckles. “You can apologize and run home like the coward I know you want to be. Or we can throw you out like the garbage you are.”
“You don’t scare me anymore,” I said, though my voice wavered. Why was I doing this to myself? Was I so starved for them that I’d willingly accept the worst versions of themselves?
“You always were an idiot,” Godfrey said with a laugh. “Smart people know when to fear, Scar. It’s what keeps them alive.”
Didn’t he know? I didn’t want to just be alive. I wanted to have my old life back.
“Why are you here?” Rogue’s demand interrupted.
My eyes flashed to Godfrey’s, and his part in my being here was at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw him under Rogue’s bus. “I wanted to be here,” I said.
“Why do you keep wanting things that don’t want you back?” Rogue asked.
I closed my eyes, forcing my eyes not to fill with moisture. They got the last of my tears months ago. All that was left of me was anger. So instead of getting sad, I breathed in his minty breath.
His eyes traveled lower, kissing my skin with his angry gaze. Rogue and I had always stood toe-to-toe. We’d always challenged one another, always fought, but it used to be innocent. This was a different level entirely.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked as his eyes grew dark. I felt the familiar fight coming on, and my heart raced at the possibility of his anger. A girl had to take what she could get, I suppose.
“A dress,” I snapped back.
I breathed in deeply, brushing my pebbled peaks against his chest. They were still cold from the beer Luis poured down my shirt.
“You think I want you here? What part of stay away don’t you fucking understand?” Rogue asked.
I could feel the anger rolling off of him, see the rage in his eyes. I could feel the way his hands were shaking. We were one white-hot moment away from him wrapping his fingers around my neck and squeezing.
And I liked it.
“I came here to let you know that I’m leaving. You probably don’t care, but I’m done wondering what I did wrong. I’m leaving Monday, and I’m never looking back.”
My voice was calm, despite the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. And the worst part of all of it? I watched for a sliver of emotion, any hint that Rogue cared that I was leaving. I was still clinging to the idea that there was still some part of him that cared about me.
But there was nothing. No expression on his face. No reaction to the idea of me being gone for good. At first I was disappointed, but then I realized that he was too calm, too prepared.
Rogue Motherfucking Kelly already knew I was leaving. Figures. He made it his business to know