Page 33 of Rush

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I look down and there's blood on my knuckles. The guy on the ground is groaning and spitting blood.

I could keep going, could break his ribs properly, could make sure he never touches another woman again.

Violence is singing in my veins, begging me to let it loose.

"Rush, please."

Everly's voice cuts through the red haze and I step back. My hands are shaking and my heart's pounding like I've been running.

The drunk guy crawls away, stumbles to his feet and runs.

I watch him go and part of me wants to chase him down, wants to finish what I started.

I force myself to breathe, to lock it down, to be better than this.

But my hands won't stop shaking.

"Are you okay?" I ask without looking at her.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are you?"

"Yeah."

It's a lie and we both know it.

I was a second away from putting that guy in the hospital, a second away from not stopping until someone made me.

"Rush, look at me."

I force myself to turn. She's standing there looking at me like she can see right through all my bullshit.

"Thank you," she says.

"Don't thank me."

"Why not? You just saved me from?—"

"I almost didn't stop," I say, the words coming out harsh. "I wanted to keep going. I wanted to hurt him worse than I did."

"But you didn't."

"I wanted to."

"Wanting and doing are different things."

She sounds like Tank and it makes my chest tight.

I look down at my hands. There's blood on my knuckles from where I hit him.

"I need to go," I say.

"Rush—"

"Please, I just need to go."

But I don't move. I'm frozen there on the sidewalk with blood on my hands and violence still humming under my skin.

Everly steps closer. "Hey, look at me."

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