Page 155 of Brutal Prince

I glance at him, and then do a double take. He has one hand on the dash, the other on the chicken bar above the car door. His face is a shade paler than usual, his lips a barely visible line.

I take my foot off the gas, inhale deep, and grip the steering wheel hard enough for my knuckles to go white.

“What happened?” Marcus asks.

“Thanks to you, nothing.” I shake my head, taking turns glancing at the road and back at Marcus. “The fuck was wrong with you tonight? I thought you had my back?”

“She’s trouble.”

“Christ, you say that about every fucking chick, bro.”

At this, Marcus shuts up. But now that he’s got me riled up, I don’t want to back down.

“What’s with you and Indi, anyway?” He was like this with Jess, too, but it’s worse with Indi. It’s like he’s taken her presence personally, as if every second I’m with her is an insult to our friendship.

“Nothing, man. Just drop it.”

“You coming unhinged or something because of all that shit with your dad? Now you have to make my life worse than what it already is? It’s not my fucking fault your life sucks.”

Marcus twists in his seat, mouth wide as he lets out a disbelieving huff. “You think that’s what I’m doing? You think I’m trying to ruin your fucking life?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been cheering for me to be happy anytime in the last two years.”

Marcus gives a bitter laugh and thumps his hand on the dashboard. “I’ve been protecting you, bro. These whores all just wanna use you.”

“And you know this because you’re some kind of an expert? When last did you even try dating someone, not just fucking them?”

Marcus lets out a low growl. “Stop the car.”

“Not a fucking chance. You’re coming in there with me, and you’re sorting this shit out. With me.”

“Fuck you, Prince.” Marcus grabs the door handle as if he’s ready to leap out of the car.

I slam my foot down on the gas.

Addy’s house streams past — I barely catch sight of her racer before it’s dwindling away to nothing in my rearview mirror.

“You know her from somewhere?”

Marcus grabs hold of the chicken bar again, gritting his teeth as if he’s ready for me to crash us into a brick wall. “What?”

“Indi. You said she looks familiar. Is that it? Do you know her?”

“No! I’ve never seen her before in my fucking life.”

“So what is it, Marcus? What is it about her that makes you fucking pissed off every time we’re together?”

“She’s not good enough for you! No one is!” Marcus throws me such a fierce glare, my foot slips off the gas. The Mustang slows, slows, almost stops.

I jerk up the emergency brake, and we stare at each other over the center console. Marcus’s chest is heaving as if he’s run a marathon, and my heart’s pounding like I was beside him every step of the way.

“What…?” I manage.

Marcus waves his hand as if to dismiss what he just yelled at me. Instead of explaining himself, he fucks off on a different tangent. “You think you have it so bad, Briar?” He runs his hands down his face. “You don’t. You’ve got everything you could ever want, you just can’t see it.”

“If this is about your dad—”

“Shut up about my fucking dad!” Marcus thumps the dash again. Veins protrude from his neck, and the way he’s staring through the windshield — as if at something only he can see — is freaking me the fuck out.

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