The Vanity of Roses - Lily White Page 0,66

and keep you out of that ring. I’ll also tell them to get the fuck rid of her.”

Callan only stared at Jacob, the smile unfading, the dare a silent whisper between two men who obviously had history with each other.

Jacob didn’t say another word before storming away, the door to the family suites slamming closed a second later.

While the music still played and the scent of cigar smoke hung heavy in the air, I glanced up at Callan to see he was staring at me.

“You’re bleeding,” he said, his eyes dark and dangerous, his voice so deep that I felt every word he spoke.

I reached up to touch my chin, my fingers pulling away, the tips stained crimson. Closing my eyes, I banished the tears that had been threatening me all day. They fell like a storm down my cheeks, more painful than where my skin had split on the floor.

“I am,” I finally answered, not knowing what else to say.

He smirked, his arm moving as he reached to rub the back of his neck. Pulling his booted feet from the table, he leaned down so that our eyes were at the same level.

I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t what left his mouth.

“Good. I’m glad you’re finally learning what it feels like to bleed for someone else.”

Callan

Jacob was an asshole, and I had every intention of beating his ass next time we practiced.

Not only did the son of a bitch follow me home from the pit and stalk after me into the gym, he’d demanded answers about Mortize’s interest in Lisbeth and wondered why I’d given enough of a fuck to get her out of the arena when I did.

Yeah, I had a fight coming up in two days and I needed the practice in the ring, but that didn’t mean I had to stick around there to do it.

We had a room in the gym for the same fucking thing, a room Jacob dragged me into before throwing his first punch. It caught me in the cheek, honing my temper just like he wanted.

Several hours later and we were both beaten down and exhausted, laughter falling over his lips when he told me to shower up because I was getting drunk whether I liked it or not.

I was pissed at him for that, too, but he was right. I was distracted, and it had everything to do with the woman curled up at my feet.

I wanted to hate her. I wanted to open the front door of the mansion and shove her out. But no matter what I did to remind myself of who the woman had been in my life, I kept finding myself back at one moment, one truth, that even the years of her disappearance hadn’t been able to erase.

It didn’t matter how much she’d hurt me, I would always want her.

How screwed up is that? I should have the word pussy tattooed over my forehead.

Maybe Jacob was right about one other thing. I needed her out of my system, because simply punishing her was driving me insane.

Reaching forward, I balled my fist over the front of her dress to tug her forward. She moved willingly, didn’t struggle or try to break free.

On her knees between my spread legs, Lisbeth glared up at me with blood dripping from her chin, her eyes two pools of liquid blue that reminded me of a lifetime of pain. It didn’t matter that she was injured, that damn Rose pride glimmered on her face, her lips in the same petulant pout I always saw when I imagined her.

“Jacob is right, you know? I should just fuck you out of my system.”

Eyes rounding, she scowled, her body moving as if to tug from my hold.

The alcohol I shouldn’t have consumed was racing through my veins, warming me in places that were dangerous to this woman. Every inhibition I’d had was skating away, desire dancing in to take up court.

I leaned lower until our lips were inches apart. “I guess it’s a good thing for you I don’t fuck damaged toys.”

Pushing to my feet, I dragged Lisbeth to hers. It took her a second to balance her body on shaky legs, fear quaking over every bone and through every muscle. Once she gained some semblance of control, I led her in the direction of my room, only for her to drop to the floor again like dead weight.

Twisting to look at her, I

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