Page 38 of Sweet Temptation

I shake my head in a firm no. I don't want his apologies, it won't be like it didn't happen. He raped me. So apologies are not on the table. Ever.

"I think she has a boyfriend, and you need to back the fuck down," Damon growls. Boyfriend? I can't keep my eyes off Damon as the words spill from his lips. I pull myself closer to his side as he grips me.

Jared eyes me again. "Hanna, please, I—"

"Fuck off!" Damon snarls like the caveman he is and wraps one of his broad arms around my body.

Jared turns on his heel and leaves without a word. "Who the fuck was that, and how does he know you?" Damon asks. My lip trembles and I shake my head, not wanting to answer his questions.

"Wait, is that…" He doesn't finish his sentence before murder clouds his vision.

He stares at my facial expression, and before I realise what's happening, he's no longer standing next to me.

TWENTY-TWO

I slide my arm around Hanna as we make our way out of the hockey arena. Her feet root to the ground as her eyes gaze up at a dirty blonde man. "Hanna, could… we, uh—" He stops talking, his eyes coming to mine. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Hanna shakes her head, tearing her gaze away as she wraps into my side. "I think she has a boyfriend, and you need to back the fuck down," I growl, teeth clenched. The words taste sour on my lips, but I don't care.

She fucking belongs to me, and if she needs a label and this douchebag needs a label, then a label will be delivered. The guy looks at Hanna again, his lips twitching. "Hanna, please, I—" he mumbles, looking at my sneakers.

Okay, enough of this bullshit.

"Fuck off!" I snarl, wrapping an arm around my girl. He turns on his heel, heading down the stairs toward his car. Turning to Hanna, my eyes soften when I see her expression. "Who the fuck was that, and how does he know you?" I ask, watching her eyes.

Hanna's lips tremble and she avoids my gaze, and something clicks in my brain. Rage slides into my vision and so does murder. This guy clearly broke a piece of her, and all I can see is red. The need to put a bullet in his brain after torturing him is all I see. "Wait, is that—" I stop mid-sentence, eying her expression. I know damn well who that bastard is. And if I have my way, he will be begging for mercy with blood coating the ground.

Leaving Hanna standing beside the front doors, I drop Damien's hockey bag and take my strides quickly as I follow him. "Hey!" I bark. He turns around and looks at me, confused. Before I can think, my fist flies out and connects with his jaw.

"What the fuck!" he bellows, grabbing me by my suit. Rage fills my eyes as I glare at him. This asshole did shit to my girlfriend while she was unconscious. Fuck. My eyes blaze and I throw another punch at his cheekbone.

All I see is red. Fucking red. Like the colour his blood will look when I'm slicing him up, piece by piece. "Damon!" someone yells nearby.

Ignoring them, I swing again, connecting my fist with the underside of his jaw. "You fucking bastard." I seethe, gripping his suit and shoving him into his car. Death would be too satisfying for him; I want to torture his life out of him.

His brain connects the dots the moment I slam into him. "She fucking wanted—" he spits, blood pouring from his mouth. Anger claws at me as I tackle him to the ground, both my fists swinging. He is going to fucking die.

He comes right back at me as we continue to brawl on the ground of the parking lot. I feel someone's arms wrap around me, pulling me away from the guy.

"Tucker! Get on the fucking bus!" a tall gray-haired man screeches, hauling his bloodied ass off the ground. But I'm not done. I won’t be done until this asshole is ten feet under, maybe not even then.

I'm heaving. I want to kill him. "Get off me!" I growl, lunging toward him again. I want his blood coating my skin and his eyes to be void.

Coach Sanchez gets in my face moments after the words leave my lips. "Leave the punches for the ice! Get in your car!" he yells. I know right then I screwed up. I was about to kill him in front of my entire hockey team.

A hockey team that knows nothing about my life or what I live. But that doesn't mean I can't find him later and drain his life. Wiping the blood from my lip, I turn around and come face to face with Chance Hilert as he releases my jacket from his grip. "What's going on?" he asks with concern.

I shake my head. I can't tell them; it's not my story to tell. Plus, I wouldn't be able to word the ways I wanted his death to pour out, either. Eying my girl across the lot, I slap Chance's shoulder and head back in her direction. "Oh my god, you're bleeding," she growls, grabbing my chin between her fingers.

I shrug and lick the blood from my lip. "You should see the other guy." I wink with a smirk. Hanna just rolls her eyes, hauling the hockey bag on her tiny body frame as she shoves me toward Ace's car.

"You can tell them why, if you want. I mean, they're going to ask, anyway," she whispers as she shoves the bag into the trunk. I nod and press my lips to hers. Though some of my detailed revenge needs to stay quiet.

"What the fuck was that about!" Ace growls as we slide into the car.

Hanna presses into me, her arms shaking. Laying a hand on her thigh, I look up at the boys. "That douchebag did shit to Hanna in high school without her permission." Sam's head turns to face me as he glares in the direction of the bus. I can sense Damien's tension as his lip curls.

I watch Ace as he grips the steering wheel. "He deserves a lot more than what he got," Ace growls.

---