Page 88 of Falling in Reverse

“How about I blow your dick off right now?”

“You don’t want to get wrapped up in Emilio, Bay. I’m serious. It’s not because of my Titan seat—which I would fight you for, by the way, so don’t even think it’s yours. But because he’s bad news, you know this.”

“I’ve heard.”

“You gotta get out of here. You have to leave South Shore.”

My expression tightens. “I’m not leaving South Shore because your daddy wants a role in my life.”

“He will tear that town apart.”

“And are you going to help him?”

Torin stares at me, those golden ebbs of his so pretty that I get lost in them for a second when he says, “I don’t want to.”

“But you would,” I press, not really wanting to know the answer. “If he asked.”

“I don’t want him to ask.”

“You’re not answering the question. I’m not easily swayed by your pretty words and promises anymore. They did nothing for me before.”

“They made you come.”

I scoff because big deal. “That’s a dime a dozen at this point.”

Torin frowns. “You’re not a whore, Wildfire. You’re many things, but that whole bullshit about you fuckin’ half of South Shore isn’t going to stick with me. Especially when I saw fear in your eyes every time you were with Matteo.”

I hate him for remembering that part of my life and that he noticed.

That I didn’t leave with him.

I knew what Torin was before and, honestly, he was right. At the time, he was a better choice than Matteo. Maybe he could’ve been something more, too.

“I believe I remember South Shore slut leavin’ your lips,” I scold lightly.

“I was irritated.”

“You’re a prick.”

He lifts his shoulders. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “I want you to be—” The door to the office is suddenly kicked open next, and Torin has me spun around and up against his chest.

Even better…my gun is now in both of our hands with the barrel pointed at my temple.

Flicking my attention to who came in, Juice stands frozen to his spot, barely breathing as Torin holds my life in the balance.

“You South Shore scum ever hear of fucking knocking?” Torin barks out, his arm that’s wrapped around my waist tightening. “Fuck.”

“You kill her, dude, you’re so fucked it’s not even funny,” Juice warns, his grip on his Glock firm.

Meanwhile, I’m trying to breathe through my nose and out through my mouth while these two idiots hash out details that aren’t going to matter depending on how it looks outside.

“Yeah, I heard. Levi’s girl and all that. Though—” Torin’s head coils around the side of my neck, and he places his chin on my shoulder. “—I never got repayment for my guns that were stolen from me over a week ago.”

Juice shrugs. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, man.”

---