Page 154 of Lace 'em Up

Getting back at her.

Fucking with her life, with this event that’s so important to Rory.

I’m not going to let that happen.

“Where is she?”

Stacy’s bottom lip slides out and she reaches for me again. “Don’t worry about Rory,” she purrs, running a hand down my chest. “We should talk.” Her mouth curves and I know she’s going for sexy, for alluring, but it doesn’t fucking work.

Because I can see the rotten core of her.

“I’ve learned some things and?—”

I grab her wrist, yank her hand away from me. “Don’t.”

That pout grows, but I just shove her arm toward her body, take a step back so that this disgusting human can’t touch me again.

“Where. The fuck. Is Rory?”

My tone seems to finally get through to her because she doesn’t try to touch me again. “I don’t know,” she snaps, hissy fit brewing. “And I don’t care.”

But her gaze darts to the side—to the closed bathroom door—and?—

Fuck it.

I’m so done with this conversation.

I turn my back on Stacy, ignore the blue plastic cutout of a woman in a dress mounted there on the door, and push into the women’s bathroom, not giving a fuck who I might scar on the other side, not giving a fuck when the heavy wooden panel slams into the wall.

Because then I see it.

See her.

And my temper boils over.

Forty-Two

Rory

I just wanted to use the bathroom.

Instead…

My past is being a bitch again.

Stacy comes out of the bathroom stall like she’s the villain from Scream, appearing like a fucking murderer, silently stalking toward me.

Cathy appears on my other side, standing by the sink, eyes shrewd and body poised like she’s going to strike.

And…well, I don’t have time for this.

I spin for the door?—

Stop when I find Dessie leaning back against the wooden panel.

And…now I’m scared.

Because the looks in their eyes, the way that Stacy is moving toward me like a mountain lion ready to pounce, Cathy’s sneer, Dessie’s smirk?—

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