Page 96 of If You Dare

Trey’s gothis head under Violet’s skirt.

He’s groping her, feeling her up. And she’s letting him.

“See?” Luke mutters. “She’s just fucking with your head.”

Luke is right. Trey was right. This whole thing has just been a mind game to her. She got in my pants, weaseled her way into my heart, all so I’d call off the revenge plot.

Her head whips around, eyes wide when she spots me. Just like Britt, all over again. “Wes—”

I’ve got Trey off her and on the floor before either of them can say another word.

Rage blinds me, sending my fists flying into Trey’s head and the floor beneath him before finally connecting with his nose. Bone crunches under my fist, and fuck, it hurts so good. No sweeter feeling than the snap of your enemy’s bone and cartilage. He roars in pain like the little bitch he is.

“I told you to fucking stay away from her!” My spit sprays his face.

Luke tugs at my shoulders. Little more than a fly. “Wes! Come on, man! Stop!”

My fists connect with Trey’s chest, his eye. A maniacal laugh swells at the image of Trey with a black eye tomorrow to match his bruised nose, and maybe I’ll gift him a limp too.

“Think about the team, Novak!”

Right. We need Trey alive for the team.

I let Luke pull me off him.

That’s all that matters now. All that should’ve mattered to me after Violet killed my sister.

My priorities got fucked in this mess. What I need is to focus on hockey, getting drafted, and escaping this hellhole. Getting as far away from Violet fucking Harris as I can.

She hovers near the door, shaking and wide-eyed like I haven’t seen her in weeks. Her hands clutched tight around her chest, skirt still askew. My teeth grind together.

This time, Luke doesn’t hold me back. He crouches beside a groaning Trey while I stalk toward Violet.

When she cowers, I salivate. I’ve missed her fear. “You’ve been fucking around behind my back?”

She shakes her head quickly, eyes growing comically wider. “No! I swear. He threatened me—”

“Yeah? Did he threaten you when you blew him too?”

Her face falls. She’s at a loss for words.

“Yeah. I fucking know,” I snarl. “How many of my teammates did you blow behind the library? Or is Trey just special?”

Nausea churns in my gut like a tornado. This is fucking happening again. Wasn’t enough when I caught my ex cheating on me. Wasn’t enough when Violet killed my sister. I still convinced myself I could trust her. That she deserved a second chance.

Still haven’t learned my fucking lesson.

“I didn’t!” she wails.

More fucking lies.

I punch the wall beside her head, knuckles coming back bloody, but the pain doesn’t register. Hard to feel more pain when you’re already drowning in it. “I saw the pictures, Violet! You in your underwear, posing for him.” I grit my teeth and hiss, “On your fucking knees in front of him.”

Tears flood her eyes now. “He made me do that! He put a knife to my throat, Wes. He has a knife on him now!”

I whirl on Trey, still flat on the floor groaning and clutching his bloody nose.

“Fuck you, man!” he spits.

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