Page 68 of Quiet Obsession
“Those are the best,” Gabe replies. “Untouched. I like being the first.” He tilts his head, smiling to himself. “There’s something about ruining their innocence that gets me rock hard.”
I taste bile. The bar mutes and everything blurs and morphs into the equipment closet at the gym. All I see are my hands on Millie’s hips. My cock driving into her. How natural it felt to bend her to my will without questioning myself.
My father never questioned himself, either.
Something in my chest caves in.
I jump to my feet, grab a fistful of Gabe’s shiny goldilocks and smash his face against the bar before he knows he’s in a fight.
Jed doesn’t even flinch when blood spills across the hardwood. He’s seen worse.
Gabe whips himself up and around, wide eyes shocked. “What the fuck is—?”
He doesn’t finish. My fist cuts him off, splitting his lip, and the real fun begins once his friends jump forth, charging right at me. I swing left and right, my fists finding cheeks, noses, shoulders, and ribs. I dodge a few blows, but I’m noNeo.
One guy catches my jaw, another my stomach, then the back of my head and I grin, tasting blood on my tongue.
They don’t stop, hoping to bring me down, and I don’t stop either, grabbing the stool and throwing it at two guys clustered together. Bystanders egg us on. Guys cheer, girls scream once glasses start flying.
And through the chaos, my head is blank. No Millie, no blood on her thighs, no trust in those striking eyes. Nothing but my body buzzing with adrenaline and bloodthirst.
I grab one of the bottles Jed prepared for Gabe and co. and smash it on the leader’s head, my chest heaving. My brow is split, red obscuring my vision, but the pain is absent.
Too bad, I want it to fucking hurt.
Gabe goes down like a house of cards, folding in on himself, his body thudding against the floor with a bone-deep crack.
Only two guys remain standing. They exchange glances before charging right at me with a strangled battle cry. I ram my boot into one chest while the other guy clocks my temple, his signet ring hitting a soft spot.
The bar sways, swims, then tilts as I hit the floor.
22
Millie
I shouldn’t feel giddy, but I love the ache pulsing between my legs. It’s been gradually growing since I ran out of the gym and went straight to bed, texting Hyde that I have a headache and I’m staying in all day.
I smile, stretching in bed while the soreness rolls through my body. It feels good. A tangible proof that I’m tougher than whatever tries to break me.
I press my face into the pillow, even though I slept through the morning and the afternoon without waking once. I haven’t been this rested since Evan. It feels nice to stay under the comforter a little longer when Creed invades my mind.
I shouldn’t feel giddy about him, either, but I do.
Well, maybe not exactlyhim, but about feeling more myself than I have in months. Powerful, pretty,whole.
Creed didn’t hold back when I kissed him. He didn’t act like I’d shatter if he bit my lip or bruised my skin. He didn’t see me as defective and it meant more than I could’ve imagined.
And then he had to ruin it all.
A bitter taste clings to my tongue when I remember the look in his eyes as he stared at my blood.
He acted like he’d taken something from me when the truth is he gave me back something vital. It’s been too long since I felt centered, steady, and calm.
Hyde, my parents, the lawyers, and doctors, even my psychiatrist... they made me feel small. A broken mess of a person they reduced me to with their overprotectiveness.
Somewhere between the overdose and now, I learned to believe them. I started shrinking. I became a victim, a broken girl who hid from the world and erased who she was.
Creed doesn’t treat me like I’m weak. Heremindsme that I’m not... all I am is lost, confused, and scared.
