Page 4 of Wreck Me

His eyes flared at the warning. The threat.

He scoffed. “You’re a pint-sized thing. All bark. Do you really want to be on my shitlist?”

“And whose shitlist is that? Through all your aggressive demands, you never introduced yourself.”

“Damien Thorn. Ring a bell?”

Shit.

He was one of them.

One of the toxic elements my mom had warned me to stay away from.

The Thorn family was on that list.

Damien kept to himself, out of the papers, social media. Unlike his younger brother who was all over them, the city’s It-Boy basically. That was why I hadn’t recognized him, only registering the name. Also, I wasn’t one to follow that sort of gossip, and I only used my social media for my designs and stayed within that community when I was online too.

My parents had kept me from all of this, all the abundance of luxury and privilege, along with the seedy underbelly of it all. Aside from the mansion I’d grown up in, everything else had been… regular. Going to normal public school, getting an after-school job to pay my way, saving up for the institute. I had been gifted my Harley when I’d graduated high school, but that had been the extent of the extravagance extended to me.

It was because she hadn’t wanted me to be around it all while I was a child and easily influenced. She’d always warned of the toxicity of it all. And my dad was very down-to-earth to begin with, not having grown up in a whole lot of wealth like she had.

“Let this go for now and I won’t park beside you next time, all right?”

I hated the words coming out of my mouth, but I couldn’t put myself on the radar. It was bad enough that I’d had a confrontation with a student before even going to my first class. Him coming at me with those demands, all that aggression and the threats, had sparked that other part of me to life, though.

And, fuck, I wasn’t going to move my bike. It was bullshit.

He released my arm and I thought it was over.

Until he suddenly grasped the sides of my open leather jacket, then spun me around and pushed me up against the side of his Ferrari.

“That’s good, but it’s not gonna be enough now.”

“What?” I choked, more than just a little winded.

But it was the struggle not to respond in kind that was crippling me more than anything else.

“You got me all riled up. Need a release.” He stroked the sides of my jacket. “And you need to learn your place. After my last class finishes at 1.p.m, you’ll meet me outside the guy’s locker room. Then I’ll tame you how I tame all misguided bitches who mouth off to me. Stuff their nasty little mouths with my cock and make them choke on me until they’re begging for my non-existent mercy.”

Well, then.

“That won’t be happening.”

“What the—”

“As much of a turn-on as sucking on a tiny limp dick isn’t, I’ll still be in class at that time anyway, so no getting together I’m afraid.”

He snarled and got right in my face. “You’re messing with the wrong person.”

“No. You are.”

In a blink, I dislodged his grip from my jacket, used his weight against him to haul him around, then slammed him down over the hood of his beloved car, my hand around his throat, my elbow driving into his back.

I heard a thud and I looked to see my phone had jarred from my outer pocket with all the rough movements. I couldn’t worry about it now. Never take your focus off your opponent.

“The thing about guys like you with so much bulk and muscle to show off is that you’re usually too fucking slow.”

He struggled against me and I ground my elbow down painfully, making him grunt.

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