Page 55 of Corrupt Me

Rain continued to plummet around us, but he didn’t seem bothered by it. “Not exactly, Shortcake. I never wanted you hurt.”

My chest pained me so much. “You did more than just cause me pain. I hate you. I hate you both.”

He spoke quietly, his stony expression never altering. “Good. You should. Are you done?”

I wanted to stomp my foot on the ground and kick up a puddle of water all over the jackass, but since I couldn’t put pressure on my foot, I’d have to resist. “Absolutely not.”

“You can get in with your dignity intact, or you can go kicking and screaming; either way, you’re getting in my damn car even if I have to lock your pretty ass up into the trunk.”

I gritted my teeth. “You wouldn’t dare.”

An irritating brow lifted. “Try me, Shortcake. You might like it. Hell, I might.”

“Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Precisely why you’re not getting behind the wheel.”

“Did you suddenly sprout a hero complex?” I shot back, straightening my spine so we were nearly nose to nose.

The smile that twisted at the corner of his lips seemed more regretful than threatening. “I’ll never be the hero in the story. We both know I’m the villain.” He snatched my hand, twining our fingers in a firm knot.

“You play the bad guy perfectly, I’ll give you that, Tristan,” I lashed out as he tugged on my arm, my legs having no choice but to move. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten about my ankle until I put the teeniest bit of pressure on it, and a whole new level of throbbing pulsed at my foot. “Ouch,” I hissed, favoring my ankle.

Tristan whirled with narrowed eyes, inspecting me. “Are you hurt?”

“Of course, I’m hurt, you idiot,” I hissed, gripping Tristan’s shoulder for support I needed but didn’t want.

Darkness descended into his features. “What happened? Did my brother?—”

“No,” I swiftly interrupted before he could assume the worst of Preston. Not that the cheating dick didn’t deserve his brother’s wrath because he sure as shit did. “He didn’t touch me. I fell.”

A curse rolled off his tongue right before Tristan dipped, scooping me off my feet and into his arms. I hadn’t been prepared.

My palm flattened on his chest, the other twining around his neck. “Tristan, damn it. Put me down.”

“Not on your life, Shortcake,” he muttered too close to my ear. So close I swore his lips grazed the edges.

eighteen

Tristan deposited me into the front seat of his Mustang, securing the seat belt across me as if it would keep me from escaping. It clicked as he locked it into place. “If you know what’s good for you, Shortcake, you’ll behave for once in your life.”

“What about your precious leather seats? You’re not worried I’ll ruin them?” I snapped.

Tristan went still. “I’m more worried about you.”

I swallowed and let my head fall back against the headrest, my eyes straight ahead. His answer threw me off. I hadn’t expected him to care. And truthfully, it confused me. Why did he care so much? Enough to come chasing after me?

My head jumbled with a circus of thoughts and feelings. It was so damn crowded in there I swore my head might pop.

Tristan strode in front of the car. My eyes tracked him, watching the rain hit him like he was in a damn music video looking all rough, dangerous, wet, and sexy. He didn’t even have to try. He just was those things and more.

The scowl arched on his perfect lips as he climbed into the driver’s seat, shaking his head and sending water sprayingeverywhere, including on me. Not that it mattered. I was a damn drowned cat. Not an inch of me wasn’t soaked.

“Was that necessary?” I said anyway, giving him a sidelong glare.

He combed his fingers through his hair, slicking it back, and then started the engine. The Mustang rumbled to life, and before it could settle into a purring idle, Tristan had his foot on the gas, sending the car propelling forward. He hadn’t bothered to park between the white lines but left his car in the middle of the lot like he owned the fucking thing.

We drove silently for a minute, listening to the hard patter of rain pinging off the car’s shell. Not even the radio crooned from the speakers. Tristan always drove with it on. My fingers went to the knob, needing something to fill the void stretching between us and distract me from my feelings.

---