Page 42 of Wreck Me

As he rushed off to throw on some street clothes, I strode out of the kitchen and headed for the foyer, starting to pace back and forth as soon as I got there.

I sucked in several deep, cooling-off breaths.

It didn’t fucking work.

I was too ramped up.

And I bet I fucking would be until this shitshow tonight was dealt with.

Testing me?

The mesmerizing, enigmatic, stubborn, fierce and downright infuriating beauty thought she could challenge me? Call me out like this? Use my brother to do it?

She was about to discover just how badly she’d fucked up.

7

~Skylar~

A deafening cacophony inundated me.

Roars, hoots and hollers, wolf-whistles.

And coming through loud and clear was the usual when I first stepped into a new underground fighting circuit.

Disbelief.

Amusement.

Resistance.

Why you ask? Why fucking else? Because I was a little woman.

As simple and as complicated as that.

And, yeah, I was little. I was barely five-foot-three.

But I was also all toned and packed muscle.

Most important of all in this particular situation was that I was trained.

Very well-trained.

Well, there might be something that took top billing over that actually.

The thirst I had for this sort of unchecked, ferocious violence.

As I took position inside the red cage, I felt it burning through my veins, gaining power and potency until it became like raging hellfire.

All-encompassing.

All-consuming.

And several levels beyond empowering.

Exactly what I needed right now, and what I’d been missing since I’d made the decision to come back here and try to shove myself into a mundane existence devoid of all of this, the danger, the thrills, so much of it that made me feel alive.

After what had happened with Sebastian last week in that stairwell—what could best be described as an erotic clash—it had awakened that thing in me. I’d been trying ever since to tamper it down, to bury it again. I’d even kept away from Luxe and everyone, even my parents. I’d been in such a state that I’d used the lame excuse of being sick to keep them at bay. Food poisoning of all things. Just what I didn’t like thinking about because I had a whole fear about throwing up. I had since I’d first gotten E. coli when I was a teenager from an undercooked chicken pizza. Urgh. That was how desperate I’d been to try to center myself and pull myself back from the edge of fucking darkness.

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