Page 39 of Wreck Me

The second photo had her looking directly into the camera, her eyes narrowed, obviously having caught him snapping them of her.

I caught sight of the red octagonal ring in the background.

I tensed. She was at the abandoned warehouse down by the distillery, one of the main venues where the underground cage matches took place.

Damien: Don’t worry, boys, just gonna have a little taste.

Caleb: Don’t be fucking stupid.

Damien: Something you wanna tell me then? Is she yours? All of yours? Is that what this hands-off shit is really about?

Sebastian: You’re reaching.

Damien: Yeah? Then what’s this?

He sent another picture and I opened it to see close ups of my marks all over Skylar’s throat, clavicle and the tops of her breasts. They were fading, but still visible at the close-up range he’d zoomed in on them.

“So that’s what happened,” Caleb mused.

Hell, his wide eyes made it clear it was more than mere musing. He was fucking stunned.

I didn’t get the chance to even try to contain that side of things, before Damien sent another text.

Damien: I would say it’s King’s handiwork, but I know he hasn’t been near her yet. Cal doesn’t leave marks on women because of his whole hangup, so it’s gotta be you, little bro. She hasn’t had contact with anybody else at Luxe, girl’s real standoffish. A hell of a thing, considering you’ve been celibate for ages now.

Damien: Tell me, did she taste as sweet as she looks?

Caleb: Fuck the hell off. Walk off the crazy, D.

“Shit,” he grunted, getting to his feet and coming to me.

Damien: Waiting on Seb’s response, Rowland.

Caleb eyed me as we looked up from our phones. “What do you want to do? Want me to call Cas in?”

If he did that, the way Cas was feeling when it came to my brother, all hell could break loose.

I shook my head.

Sebastian: The marks are mine.

Damien: So she’s yours?

I gritted my teeth.

This wasn’t my plan, the way I’d laid it out.

I could feel that chaotic energy rising up, threatening my well-crafted control and protocols, trying to infect me, trying to gain breath.

Sebastian: She’s mine.

He was a territorial motherfucker, he understood the weight of those words, of that declaration.

It should be enough to get him to end this pathetic game of his.

To back the hell off.

But then he sent another message that ripped right through all of that.

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