Page 30 of Hear Me Roar

And wait somemore.

About two minutes later, another message finally came through. The second I saw Hazel’s eyes flare, I knew something was terriblywrong.

“Baby, who is it?” I asked, rooted to the spot beneath myfeet.

“It's Brie…” she gritted out, though I don’t think she’d meantto.

Brie? As in Brie, myex?

There’s no way. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Brie in months, like since before I got with Hazel, which would make it more like a year. Closing in the short distance between us, I bore into the screen from over my girl’s shoulder and read the text with my own twoeyes.

Unknown:Really? You don't have my number saved? It'sBrie…

My blood boiled. She had some damn nerve… I snatched the phone from Hazel’s hands and dropped down onto the bed as I typed out myresponse.

Me:What do youwant?

Hazel sighed and I expected her to storm out with a dozen ideas attacking her rationale, but she surprised me, plopping down beside me onto her back. She didn’t say a word, though, which was never a good sign. My phone beeped again, dragging my attention back to the reason why my girl was not amused. I couldn’t blame her, seeing as I wasn’t amused in the slightesteither.

Unknown:Well, hello to you too, I guess. Did I catch you at a badtime?

Me:Anytime is a bad time. Lose my number, seriously. Don't text meagain.

I flipped the screen toward Hazel and when she nodded, I flung the phone somewhere to the end of the bed without care. Laying beside her, I rested my head on my arm, my fingers running through the semi-wet tresses of her hair that spilled onto the dark burgundycomforter.

“Does she text you often?” she asked after sometime.

“Actually, no. This is the first time she's texted me since you and I got together,” I saidevenly.

“What the hell does she wantthen?”

“Who knows. Brie always has a reasonthough.”

Her expression darkened in a way I'd never seen before. “Think she'll back off, or is she gonna be aproblem?”

“Well, she hasn't texted back yet, so that's a good sign. Usually Brie is quick to fire back when shit doesn't go herway.”

“She’ll stay far, far away, if she'ssmart.”

Oh, Brie was smart alright. A kinky little smartass with a crude mouth and a wicked heart. We’d met atSteel Ink,a tattoo parlor where she was earning her tattooing apprenticeship when I first started inking and piercing my body. The dark hair and light eyes combo snatched my attention, but what really got me was her curvy figure. She was heavily tattooed, too, which was an instant hard-on. As a result, I volunteered to let her tat me because ‘everyone needs to start somewhere’ but really it was because I wanted to spend time with her, alone. She hadn't objected, the reason obvious, and every session we had was some unspoken test to see who would snap first. For the record, it was her, after finishing the tribal on mychest.

A few weeks later, I started working atSteek Inktoo, handling mostly piercings and scheduling customers, though I did pick up on the art of inking. We were spending so much time together, our relationship just naturally took off from there, and before I knew it, I was head over heels in love with her. I thought she felt the same for me, but her actions later proved differently. After devoting a few years of my life to her, I caught her cheating on me one of the nights I wasn't working, in her tattoo room with one of her clients. I walked in with a few beers in hand, found her riding him into the sunset, and walked right back out. The next morning, bright and early I might add, I left a box filled with her shit on herdoorstep.

Never lookedback.

And she never came afterme.

We’ve run into each other a few times since then, none of them endingwell.

So what the hell did shewant?

Iwas free.I’d done it. After weeks of attempting to call Hazel – and failing miserably every single time – Dimitri finally knocked the sense into me. Literally. We’d gone to a charity event for some dirty business friend of his, friend being a word I’d use loosely, and about halfway through, he’d disappeared. Although I preferred to be alone than in his company, I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was up to, and I wanted to witness it with my own two eyes. And right I was. Took some time and a few dozen faces or so to point me in his direction, but in the end, I’d found him somewhere on the third floor of the expansive Mediterranean mansion,spanking Svetlana.Again,literally.

Now, here’s the part where you think you know what happens, based on the norm: Woman finds husband cheating. Woman proceeds to become angered and/or cry. Husband is to blame. They fight. Theusual.

But Dimitri’s style wasn’t the least bit usual, so rather than storm out of the room and leave the event without him, I got thrown into the wall, with the blame at my feet. Pain lanced through my head from impact, forcing silent tears from my eyes as he went off like bomb, berating me in his native Russian tongue until he was blue in the face, about how I don't make the time to please him. He didn’t stop there, though, oh no. With menacing green eyes, he watched in fascination as the strength of his grip had the ability to cut off my air supply, leaving my life dangling in his mercy. Every choke spewed from my throat spurred him on too. It was obvious he was enjoying himself and it was right about then, Ireallyknew he’d eventually enjoy it so much, he'd killme.

The next morning, I called Hazel, bright and early. I felt terrible for possibly waking her up, given the time difference, but after the night I’d had with Dimitri, I wasn’t waiting another minute to finally go through with it. It’s not like I’d slept anyway. If the situation was horrifying while we were at the event, imagine what happened when he brought me home. You just cringed a little, right?Right.There were thick belt marks everywhere; bruises, hickeys, bite marks…his hand print outlined on my throat. My wrist might've been fractured too, but I wasn'tpositive.

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