through my fucking jeans and I can feel the stings of each wound. None are greater, though, than the thought that I've been well, and truly fucking fucked by her.
A small feminine hand sifts through my hair, yanking my head back as I try to catch my breath and keep from throwing up. Her other hand grabs my throat as she leans down and hisses in my ear—and even through the agony in my body and the fury I'm feeling, I can't help but find her fucking magnificent in her own wrathful animosity.
“I am not any man’s property, Dean. Least of all yours.”
I cough and glare up at her. “You think not?" I ask. I try shaking my head, but it’s difficult with her nails scratching my scalp, holding me there. To think, just hours ago, those nails had been in different places and for much different reasons. "That’s all your pussy’s ever meant to be, baby," I spit out. "Property. And I think that’s what kills you inside. So, regardless of how I might look to you now, Ava. I win and I will always win. You fucked with the wrong man."
She laughs. An honest to God, fucking laugh. “You think you’ve won? Oh no, Dean.” She shakes her head. “You didn’t win. You opened Pandora’s box, and my demons are coming for you.”
With that, she drops my head and walks away. I don't hear or see where she goes and I can't seem to make myself get up off the cold tiled floor. Droplets of red continue to drip from my face and I don't know how long it takes for me to get back on my feet, but when I do, I have to use the wall for support.
Goddamn her.
"Dean!" Abel's half panicked voice reaches my ears, and I wince at how sharp it sounds. He comes barreling around the corner, panting, sweating, eyes blown wide and shaking.
Shit. Tonight is not the fucking night for this, I think, but he's my fucking brother, so I straighten away from the wall and head towards him even as I snatch up a hand towel and start wiping my face.
"What is it?"
"Where the fuck is Avalon?" he demands, but before I can say anything, he shoves the screen of his phone in my face which clearly depicts Avalon in our garage, grabbing a key from one of the hooks on the wall. I watch in utter shock as she waltzes right over to where Abel's Mustang is parked, gets in, and peels out. "She stole my fucking car!"
I take a deep breath and release it. Braxton comes around the corner and stops when he sees us. While Abel is too freaked out to notice, I know Brax sees the cuts of my jeans and the blood staining my clothes, and it doesn't even surprise me when he crosses his arms over his massive chest and waits for me.
"Pull up the tracking," I say coldly. "We're going after her."
"Damn right we are," Abel snaps. "What the fuck is she thinking?"
I know what she's thinking. She's thinking she can run from me. But no. That's not fucking happening.
51
Avalon
I put my foot to the gas, and floor it. The wavering pointer on the speedometer jerks up and then inches over, slowly but surely making its way to the 100mph mark and then beyond. The headlights wash over the dark backwoods road. The longer I stare, the harder it is to see until I realize it isn’t that the road is hard to see, I’m just crying.
Sobbing actually. Big, heaving sobs wrack my frame as tears slide from my eyes. They slip down my cheeks, dirty little things, leaving me with a salty taste in my mouth that’s tinged with a metallic edge. Tears and blood. How? Because I’ve bitten my lip so hard that I can feel where the skin has broken and blood seeps from the wound onto my tongue.
“Fuck him…” I whisper. I lift my fist from the steering wheel and bring it down hard. Hard enough that it sends a ricochet of pain up my arm. “Fuck them,” I amend, because it wasn’t just Dean Carter. It was all of them. All for one and one for fucking all. They would back him, I had no doubt. So fuck them all. “Fuck them. Fuck them. FUCK. THEM!” I scream until my lungs hurt.
It hurts. Fuck, everything hurt. The worst pain imaginable. Like being shredded open and left, gasping, in a