to imagine Sophie standing in my doorway looking at me while I have this naked chick grinding on me.
I know I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t owe her anything. We are not together, and I never promised her anything. I even went as far as telling her I was planning on fucking some random chick after the fight. I know all of this…but none of those things matter when I see her. Gut wrenching guilt invades my body. It’s so overwhelming, it pulls me from the foggy high surrounding me.
A deep sadness appears in her blue depths, hitting me like a bullet striking me straight through the heart. I feel my own heart breaking, the muscle ripping in two. I don’t fucking understand why. She means nothing to me...or at least she’s not supposed too.
But this...this stabbing feeling in my chest…she does matter—a fucking lot. It seems like she stands there staring at me for an eternity and then as if she was never there at all she’s gone, disappearing into thin air.
“Who the fuck is she?” The blonde on my lap pouts, but I don’t answer her. I don’t even think as I push her off my lap. She squeals and opens her mouth to say something but I’m already out the door consumed with need to reach Sophie and make things right.
I know I don’t have to tell her nothing happened, but I want to. I need to.
I look down the hall in both directions to see which way Sophie went but what I see next has my blood boiling. Hot fury, hotter than I’ve ever felt before grabs hold of me as I witness Ryan grab her by the arms. His hands on her snap something inside of me.
Sophie struggles to break free of his touch, and I can see the tears swimming in her eyes. My nostrils flare and I close the distance in three large strides.
Ryan’s eyes go wide. He releases Sophie a second before my hands wrap around his throat. I don’t see or feel anything other than Sophie in this moment. I’ve hurt her...he hurt her...and her father hurt her.
I’m tired of people hurting her. The fucker’s mouth opens as if he’s trying to say something, but I squeeze his windpipe, and nothing but a slow wheeze escapes his throat. I want to break him—snap him like the fucking twig he is.
Out the corner of my eye, I see Sophie scurry away, her eyes confessing her heartache. I’m fine with her escaping me—for now. I don't want her to see me kill someone else today. Pulling back my lips in a snarl, I squeeze the bastard’s throat. The pressure against his windpipe is enough to break it. The idea of making him suffer encompasses me. I stare into his face, watching his eyes widen, like they’re about to pop out of their sockets. His skin starts to turn blue, and tiny blood vessels inside his eyes burst, coloring the whites in red. His feeble attempts to hit me and push me off are a joke. I almost smile.
Such a pitiful excuse for a human.
I squeeze harder, listening as his windpipe crushes beneath the pressure of my grip, and even then, I don’t let go until his eyes are vacant and his body is still, his arms falling lifelessly to his sides. I drop him to the floor like the sack of shit he is, and then I hear the blood curdling scream behind me.
I turn just in time to find the chick I had in my bedroom standing in the hallway, her eyes wide with fear. She’s halfway dressed, one hand clutching her purse and shoes while the other covers her mouth.
“Shut the fuck up or you’ll be next,” I growl, then twist my head around, scanning the hallway.
Where the fuck did Sophie go?
Now that the fuckface is gone, all I can think about is finding her and making things right. I need her in my arms, her scent around me, her eyes filled with happiness.
“Sophie!” I yell as I stomp down the hall and into her room. I check her bathroom, even her closet—nothing. My pulse pounds in my ears. Where did she go?
I run back to my room, checking everything there while continuing to call her name. When I can’t find her anywhere, I jog back out into the living room, nearly slamming into a group of people.
“Did you see Sophie?” I scream at Devin, who is dry humping some chick