I’ve spent years protecting her, shielding her, making sure she had a nice place to live, and a good job. That no one hurt her. If it wasn’t for me. Nails sink into the flesh of my palm. My nails. The pain brings me back to reality, but reality isn’t any better than my mind.
Slamming my closed fist against the tile of the shower, I try to let go of some of the tension that’s clinging to my bones. I need an outlet, but I don’t have one.
Violence is a parasite, a vicious eater of all the good in you. It’s also the only thing that keeps me from becoming a full-fledged serial killer, and since I have no one to hurt, and no one to destroy here, I’m going to need to control myself better. Which means I’m going to have to work through my emotions instead of shutting them off.
Sighing, I scrub my skin hard, drawing out the pain, reveling in it. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I don’t understand her need to provoke me. Does she want me to hurt her?
Something inside my chest squeezes. She was probably expecting the worst, and all I’ve given her is the opposite. I can imagine she’s confused as fuck, but there isn’t anything I can do to fix it. Not yet. I don’t want to tell her the extent of the danger she’s in yet. If I do, she’ll want to know why and from who, and I don’t have any of that information.
The more I think, the more pissed I get.
Fuck Christian for putting us in this situation. As soon as I get the chance, I’m putting a bullet right between his eyes. Hell, I’ll do it anyway simply because he threatened Dove. Rinsing one last time, I shut the water off and open the shower door, grabbing a towel from the rack.
My cock is still rock hard, which is annoying as hell and only adding to my frustration. I should’ve beat off in the shower, but I was too angry, too caught up in my damn head.
Drying off, I toss the towel to the floor and walk into the bedroom naked. It’s highly unlikely that Dove is going to seek me out. Not after what happened. She’ll stay hidden in the library until it’s time for bed.
Fucking shit. I run my fingers through my hair, tugging at the longer strands. Her body is ingrained in my mind. Every. Single. Inch. I can still feel her tight, little body beneath mine, my cock screaming for entrance. Her tiny pussy gushing against her panties.
I wish like hell that I could’ve peeled off those pants and plunged my finger deep inside of her. I’m sure I would’ve come right then and there, right in my fucking boxers like a teenager.
Jesus, I have to stop thinking about this. Control yourself, asshole.
Stomping over to the closet, I open the drawers and grab random clothes, putting them on in a hurry. I need to get a grip, need to calm down before I go back out there. Leaning against the rack of clothing, I wait a few minutes just standing and concentrating on nothing more than my breathing. When my heart rate returns to a semi-normal pace, I leave the room and walk out into the living area. Like I expected, Dove isn’t anywhere in sight.
Needing to cool off a little more, I walk into the kitchen and head straight for the fridge. I knew I bought that six-pack of beer for a reason.
Grabbing one, I twist the cap off and bring the bottle to my lips. I take a long pull, letting the refreshing beer cool my heated body. It doesn’t take long for me to finish the first beer, and when I’m done, I toss the bottle in the garbage and grab a second, which I drink a little slower.
Easing into the leather of the couch, I sit in silence and drink my beer. After a short while, I hear the soft patter of feet coming my way. Never one to shy away from confrontation, it’s hard for me to watch as Dove stops at the entrance of the living room staring at me for a good second, big, blue eyes wide with apprehension before darting to the bedroom.
Does she really think that horrible of me? I squeeze the bottle a little tighter.
The sound of the shower turning on fills the apartment, and I force