Page 24 of Loving the Liar

Fuck.

“Queen Bee threatens innocent student to protect her reputation,” the first guy laughs, making me look at him again, nostrils flaring.

“I didn’t threaten you to protect my reputation. You had nothing on me. I defended myself because you were harassing me.”

His friend gets closer, a dark-haired guy, bigger and more imposing than the skinny, inoffensive man I followed to a dark alley.

“From what my phone saw, it looks like you were scared he was going to spill secrets and threatened to make him drop out.”

“I didn’t?—”

“It’s exactly what she did,” the skinny one insists. They’re clearly friends and had planned this whole thing.

“Are you two serious?” I spit, crossing my arms over my chest in a worthless attempt to make myself look tougher. “You think you can threaten me with some stupid video? Do you have any idea who the fuck you’re dealing with?”

The skinny guy shrugs, tilting his head to the side as they both close in on me, cornering me against the wall of the Xi Ep house.

“Looks to me like we’re dealing with a girl who’d do anything to keep her reputation intact.”

“Anything?” the other asks. “Now that sounds interesting.” He brings his hand to my cheek, tracing a finger down to my neck, my collarbone. “Can she do it quietly?”

“Fuck off.” I slap his hand away, and the other uses my gesture to grab my wrist and bring my hand to his groin. The asshole is hard.

“How about we fuck you before we fuck off?”

My heart drops to my stomach. “I guess we could film that too,” the brunet mocks. “And if you say anything, we’ll release the video to everyone.”

“Or I could film myself kicking your ass and see how the whole campus reacts instead?” The calm warning makes them both jump away from me to reveal the owner of the smooth voice. A wave of relief washes over me, making my knees buckle. I briefly close my eyes, allowing my body to accept my ex is here to make things better.

Chris stands with his hands in his pockets, but it doesn’t take an imposing stance or hostile gestures for him to look intimidating. His height does the job perfectly fine, and his gentle demeanor is often scarier than growled threats.

When both guys don’t find any excuses for their actions, standing mute and meek in front of my ex, Chris speaks for them again.

“I think you were leaving.”

They both nod, turning around to leave.

“Uh, uh,” he calls them back like two misbehaved pets. “Not without apologizing to the lady, of course.”

He taps his foot impatiently on the ground, and that’s all it takes for them to turn to me, babbling pathetic apologies. They eye Chris again, waiting for him to give them a subtle nod before they go to leave.

“One last thing.”

They freeze. Two preys playing dead as they’re about to be caught by a predator. Then they both look over their shoulders.

“Your phone,” he tells the one with dark hair.

The guy hands it to him, and Chris takes it carefully.

I’m the only one who feels something switch within him. A fury that comes right before he surprises them by throwing the phone with all his strength against the wall. The violence is disturbing, pieces of plastic, glass, and metal flying everywhere and making me jolt.

Chris turns back to them, taking one slow but purposeful step.

“Bother her again.”

It’s a strange, whispered order that makes the two friends glance at each other with wide eyes.

“Do it,” Chris insists. “Let me watch you bother her again.”

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