Well, I guess if I was being sent away for fighting her, I might as well do it.
I turned slowly, a crazed grin spread across my face. I almost laughed when I saw Stephanie’s cocky expression falter, her perfectly waxed brows pulling together in confusion.
“You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“Shut up, freak. Didn’t you hear him? No one wanted you to come.”
“You know all about coming, don’t you, Steph?” I taunted her. “You’ll suck off just about anybody. Be careful. Wouldn’t want you to get lockjaw.”
With fury burning in her eyes, she raised a hand to slap me. But this time, instead of just taking the hit, I caught her by the wrist. It was almost too easy. I could hear Bonham’s words whispering in my ear. Jab. Cover your face. Don’t tuck your thumb, Scar. It all came rushing back to me.
Then, I punched the bitch.
My blow landed against her cheekbone and eye with a satisfying crack, causing her to go stumbling back on her stilettos. Before she could recover, I punched her again, and then I slapped her for good measure. There was nothing quite like a good bitch slap. I had to teach myself the technique because any respectable Heir wouldn’t be caught dead slapping their opponent, but I used it on occasion. It was practically a requirement for any good girl fight.
I was on her again before she could land on her ass. Straddling her hips, I used my weight and my superior strength to pin her down, and then I fisted her hair in my hand. She shrieked in pain, her manicured nails trying to claw at my grip, but the adrenaline was pumping into me too much to even phase me. When I saw the blood tinting her professionally whitened teeth, my grin widened.
With a nice grip on her hair, I grabbed her by the jaw, my fingers digging into her cheeks painfully. Her blue eyes went wide, tears dripped down the corners and ruined her makeup that she probably spend two hours doing. I leaned down, my face right up against hers. “This is what happens when you push someone with nothing else to lose,” I said against her lips.
Her lips wobbled as her hips kept moving, trying to throw me off, but I had her right where I wanted her, and I wasn’t about to give that up. Months of her tormenting me led up to this. As soon as my guys tossed me away, she swooped right in to claim them. She liked to write “Trash Whore” on my locker, and constantly tagged me in pictures of trash on social media.
Just when I was about to land a nice nipple punch and claw her contoured face with my nails, someone wrenched me up and threw me backwards. I landed hard against the wall, but I was up and on my feet in a second, sans heels.
When I whirled around to see who’d touched me, I saw all four of the guys standing in front of the huddled crowd, with Rogue Kelly right in the forefront. One look in his eyes, and I saw nothing but pure hatred.
No one helped Stephanie up, so she scrambled to her feet on her own and stumbled over to Godfrey and Bonham. Her whimpers were like music to my ears. Of course, Godfrey slung an arm over her shoulder, letting her face be buried into his chest. When my eyes flashed with fury, he just smirked. Typical.
Fuck. That.
I lunged for the first asshole I could get my hands on.
Rogue.
I pounded my fists on his chest, shocking everyone around us. Some kids in the crowd laughed at my display, but I was too lost in my anger to give them the satisfaction of stopping now. I kicked, scratched, and clawed my way out of the pain in my chest. I wanted to hurt Rogue Kelly as much as he’d hurt me. My direction had no aim, no purpose. My anger was a living breathing thing, and it wanted to break the man at the end of my fist.
Arms wrapped around me, yanking me off his body, but still I fought. I didn’t care anymore. I had nothing to lose. “Hold her still!” Rogue yelled, while wiping the corner of his mouth. Was that blood on his lip? A thrill of pride went through me. I had made him bleed. I wanted more.
I looked down at the arms covering me and noticed Bonham’s rolex. So he was who swooped in to save poor Rogue? Perfect. Lifting my knee up, I slammed my foot back, kicking him in the shin with a satisfying crunch, and damn it felt good. He let go of me with a sharp grunt, and I pulled myself away with one last manic jolt, putting distance between us.
Nobody moved. Even the music was cut off. I stared there, a wild flare licking at my senses as I steadied my breathing. Bonham was hunched over and rubbing his leg. Rogue was staring at me like I had two heads. Oh shit. What have I done?
For a moment, everyone waited to see what Rogue and the others would do to me. I stood in the center of the circle, chest heaving with breath as the adrenaline from our fight started to fade. And even though I somewhat feared the repercussions, the urge to do more destruction coursed through me. It wasn’t enough. I wanted them all to bleed. Rogue watched me in silent disbelief, likely debating on what to do with me. “Oh, you’re dead now,” Godfrey, who had watched the entire spectacle in amusement, said with a chuckle as Stephanie nuzzled closer between him and Bonham.
In a flash, Rogue’s face neutralized, the only evidence of our fight displayed in the redness of his jaw. His cold, hard brown eyes travelled up my body with boredom and his signature sneer. He used to only use that sneer on others. Never me. But now, it was the only look I ever got. I wanted to hate him. I’d never wanted anything so badly in my entire life. The fact that Bonham, Rogue, Luis, and Godfrey had ruined me so much that I couldn’t even hate them said something about the kind of fucked up I was.
Rogue stood tall and proud, hands in the pockets of his dark designer jeans like he didn’t have a care in the world—like I didn’t just flail my body at him like a mad woman. He was wearing a short-sleeved plain gray V-neck tee, dipping just enough to give a peek at the intricate, black tattoos that travelled from his chest to his arms. His hair was disheveled like always, falling to the side with that effortless perfection he always managed, but the blood on his lip? That was managed by me.
I kept my bare feet rooted to the spot as adrenaline pulsed through my limbs, making my knees shake. I wanted to lunge at him again. As if Rogue could sense what I was thinking, he was suddenly on me, gripping my arm so hard that I was certain it would bruise.
“Scarlett,” he growled it like my name was a curse, before yanking me through the parting crowd. “Nobody fucks with the Heirs.”
I still was clinging to that anger, although regret was waiting at the ready, prepared to drown me in anxiety about all the consequences of what I’d just done. “Looks like I just did,” I replied with a sneer, hoping my voice didn’t sound as crazed as it felt. I pressed my bare feet into the ground, struggling to keep upright as he stormed through his house. I didn’t have to look behind us to know that the rest of the guys were following. Luis, Bonham, and Godfrey were hot on his heels, and he didn’t stop until I was stumbling up the stairs and thrown onto the floor of his bedroom.
I smiled when I realized the slush Stephanie threw on me was bright red. It was staining the white carpet covering his floor, looking like blood in his crisp, pristine room. I was glad I’d stain his carpet. It meant he’d have to remember this.
Rogue surged forward and grabbed the fabric of my black dress, yanking me up until our faces were just inches apart. His knuckles grazed the bare skin at my chest.
“You have two options, Scar,” Rogue said while cracking his knuckles. “You can apologize and run home like the coward I know you want to be. Or we can throw you out like the garbage you are.”