Page 150 of Vile Bastards
“The usual: ground all over me like a slobbering animal.” My fingers curl into fists as Cody looks to Ash, to me, back to Ash again.
That’s when I decide, you know what? Screw this. I drop down and snatch my knife from the floor, shoving up to my feet and swinging it straight at Cody’s exposed throat. I’d have gotten him, too, if Ash hadn’t stepped in and grabbed my arm.
Our eyes meet again, and I read an unspoken promise in them: let me take care of this for you.
Ash’s shoulders rise and fall with deep, heavy breaths, and I can see how angry he is by the way he blinks. It’s the only tell, that slow, careful blink. He releases me and turns to look back at Cody who’s still peering at his ‘friend’ like he isn’t entirely sure what’s going on.
“Are you actually into this whore?” Cody asks, scoffing as he turns toward the stairs and puts his hand on the banister. The edge of his lip quirks up in a half-smile made all the more grotesque by the blood running down the side of his face. “Seriously? Wait till my father hears about this.”
“Will he, though?” Ash asks absently as Cody turns around to face us.
That’s his mistake, right there, thinking that any one of the fuckboys I’ve chosen for myself are normal people.
“Girls like this are good for a quick fuck, but what sort of man puts a female above his friends? These holes are only good for—”
Ash reaches out with his palm and just sort of pushes Cody’s shoulder with a relatively gentle shove. Cody pinwheels in place, arms flying, eyes going wide, and then he overbalances in much the same way that I did.
With a strangled scream, he falls backward and rolls down about a dozen steps, slamming into the wall on the landing with one arm twisted strangely behind his back. His foot sits at an odd angle, too, and there’s a satisfying crack when his head hits the brick wall.
Ash Kelly and I stand side by side, watching as blood begins to leak from Chet Jr.’s temple, and he twitches in a disturbing sort of way. Huh. I wonder if he’s dead? The world could only be so lucky, eh?
“Savage,” I whisper, and even though I know it’s inappropriate, I’m so attracted to Ash Kelly in that moment that I’m half-ready to tear his clothes off and ravage him against the wall.
“It’s the least of what he deserves. Besides, he cleared the office out prior to inviting you in here with him. If he dies because there’s nobody around to save him from an accidental fall, whose fault is that?” Ash shrugs his shoulders and glances my way, reaching out with a smooth palm and pressing it against the side of my face. “Are you truly alright?”
“He grabbed my boob, cupped my crotch.” I shrug as if that means nothing at all. But it does mean something; it means a whole hell of a lot. I’m upset, but I refuse to show it here. Later, I’m sure those few awful moments will be added to a whole list of others that I’d rather forget. “But it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Ash’s lips curl up in a snarl and he takes a sudden step forward, curling his fingers around my upper arm.
“Chet Jr. is lucky that he passed out.” He yanks me closer to him, leaning down to peer into my face, as if he might be able to read between the lines of my emotions. I smile at him, and he makes a sound of disgust. “Don’t do that, play it off as nothing. You’re not superhuman, Scarlett. If you’re upset, it’s understandable.”
I shake my arm from his grip and offer Ash a quick once-over and a raise of my brow.
“What are you doing here anyway?” I ask, heart pounding at the sight of him. And I hate that. I wish that I weren’t human, so that I didn’t have to feel things like this. Self-destructive things. Dangerous things. “Didn’t we just pledge not to see each other for a while? Must really be … what was it? Unmei.”
That almost makes Ash smile, but he’s too upset, and there’s a possible dead body bleeding all over the landing. Mirth is a tough sell at the moment.
“Maybe the question should be: what are you doing here?” he asks, his dark gaze following me as I move over to the desk and pick up the big rubber stamp. I press it into the red ink, stamp my registration form, and then forge Cody’s signature. I even forge Alexei’s into the spot where it would rightfully go were he here to transfer his spot to me.
As far as my racing here today, it’s happening whether anybody else likes it or not. I don’t even care if they rescind my win afterward. Everyone will see me; everyone will know.
