Page 142 of Dare To Live

I’d promised him I would be whatever he needed, and I won’t break that vow. Not now. Not even if it means facing the ghosts in our past one more time.

Chapter 80

Eli

I can’t even begin to describe the intensity of the emotion swirling through me. I knew that listening to Miles relive the last moments of Kellan’s life would be difficult, but I hadn’t expected to feel such fucking … anger at my friend for doing something so stupid. Why the fuck, just once, couldn’t he have thought about the implications of what could happen? He’d known whoever was fucking with Arabella was dangerous. We’d agreed not to go anywhere alone. So, what does he do? Jaunts off to the fucking chapel without telling anyone.

So did you, asshole.

I ignore the reminder that I’d dropped everything because of the text I thought was from Kellan, and also gone to the chapel alone.

I want to break something, and I have to fight to contain the desire to lash out, to take out my fury on the only available person I can see. Instead, I redirect it, backing Arabella against the closest wall and attacking her mouth with all the pent-up rage clawing its way through my body.

Her lips are soft, sweet, parting beneath the onslaught of my teeth and tongue willingly. Her lack of fight frustrates me. I pull my mouth from hers.

“Fight me.” I growl the words.

“No.” She loops her arms around my neck and tries to pull my head back down.

“I need you to fight me.” I can’t explain it. My nerves are on fire with the need to hurt someone.

“I’m not going to fight you.” The determination in her eyes makes me grind my teeth.

She rises on her toes and presses her lips to my jaw. “We have food, so you need to feed me,” she whispers.

Her lips move to the corner of my mouth. “Then you can fuck me.” She draws back and smiles up at me. “And after that, if you really need to, I’ll let you fight me.”

Feed me. Fuck me. Fight me.

It had been something of a mantra between us all those years ago. When we were battling how we felt about each other.

I hold her gaze with mine, then slowly nod.

“Alright.” My voice is just as soft as hers.

The desire to lash out is still there, but whatever magic this woman holds over me has dampened the need to a low simmer. Her fingers toy with the hair at the nape of my neck, her eyes tracking over my face. I don’t know what she’s looking for, but she must find it because she gives a nod of her own and lets her arms drop. Her hand finds mine and she draws me across the room to the small table.

Before we can sit down to eat, there’s a tap on my door. Both our heads swing around to look at it.

There’s absolutely no reason we should be worried about who it is, but I’m immediately on edge. Trading looks with Arabella, I can see the same agitation in her eyes.

“Stay here,” I tell her, my voice low, and move across to the door. “Who is it?”

“Brad.” The deep voice that replies surprises me.

I pull the door open. “What the fuck do you want?”

The man standing in the hallway is wearing sweats and a t-shirt, hands shoved deep into his pockets, and a frown furrowing his brow. Lacy hovers behind him.

“Can we come in?” He steps forward, and I move to block his progress.

“No.”

His shoulders sag and he sighs. “Look, man. I know I was an asshole while we were at school, but—”

“Let me guess. You want to apologize. You feel bad about everything that happened.”

He shuffles from foot to foot. “Something like that.”

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