Page 55 of White Rabbit

Why was Ava running?

Didn’t she know I would always hunt her down?

She was mine.

Grabbing Foxx by the arm, I snarl, “I want my fucking lawyer. Now.”

Patience is not a virtue.

Patience is a cunt.

I prided myself on being a patient person, always planning, thinking strategically and yet when Julian told me in no uncertain to stay put and wait, I wanted to punch the fucker. And in fact, I might the next time I see him.

I barely make it through the next couple of days, growling at anyone who so much as looks my way.

Dragging my feet, I traipse to art class in a foul mood because I know that my little Rabbit has fled. Julian couldn’t or wouldn’t give me any further information, and Cato was ignoring my emails. I’d been cut off from the outside and told to be fucking patient.

When I enter the classroom, the other inmates are whispering and chattering about the new guy standing at the front of the room. He introduces himself as Officer Lewis, but I couldn't care less. He’s another dickbag, just with a graying mustache.

I can’t even be bothered to be here without her.

What’s the fucking point?

What was she thinking?

Why didn’t she tell me?

How could she leave?

When I get out of here, I swear to God...I’m going to make sure she never leaves again, even if that means I have to handcuff her to me. I’m going to put a baby in her, tie her to me forever. Marry her so that she’s legally bound to me. Entwine her life so tightly with mine, that there is no me without her and vice versa. They’ll have to cleave us apart. There would have to be some serious Kate Bush tearing asunder shit for us to be apart ever again.

She is mine.

Body, soul and everything else that goes along with that.

She needed to learn that there was no escaping Elijah Creed.

“Well Creed, you can’t fuck this one,” a voice to my left chuckles and I look over to see Sanchez grinning at me.

I had reached an agreement with The Cartel, and backed off once I put them in their place, but I would not take comments from this fucking prick and his shit-eating smile. Nah, that wasn’t me.

The corner of my mouth lifts into a slow smirk, and I see it. The second he realizes he’s fucked up. A haze of red comes over me. There’s no other explanation for it.

My fist connects with his jaw before he can say anything, and the thrill that shoots through me keeps me going as I land two more punches and cover my hands in crimson.

“What did you say?” I ask with a grin, as I hold him by his T-shirt.

Fuck, I love adrenaline. My body feels like a live wire as I thrust my elbow against his nose with a loud, wet crunch.

Officer Lewis has sounded the alarm, but I drown out the noise. Focusing on the piece of shit in my grip.

Sanchez tries to grapple with me to stop my hits, but that’s okay because it gives me better access as I bite down on his ear, tearing into his skin. Howling, like a wounded dog, he throws himself backwards and out of my reach.

At this point, the other members of the class have all stepped away, giving us space. Not even Louis has tried to help.

I own this place, motherfucker.

Standing over him, a small trickle of blood dribbles from my mouth, where he must have caught me in our tussle. Sanchez lies in a ball on the floor crying, clutching at his face as I spit out the chunk of flesh still between my teeth.

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