Page 13 of Slash Me Savagely

"I... I didn't mean..." I started, my eyes blurring with tears. "It just... I didn't want this."

"Have you cheated on me?" he demanded, his voice rising. He stalked up to me, his hand wrapping around my neck. "You fucking whore. Tell me why I shouldn't fucking kill you right now."

"Rob, I didn't mean..." I choked out, tears spilling down my cheeks. "I didn't have a choice."

He dropped his hand, his voice almost desperate. "Then why? Why, Gemma?"

"I didn't have a choice," I repeated, my voice barely a whisper.

He stepped back, his face contorting with anger and pain. "Liar," he spat. "You're a fucking liar."

Rob's face twisted into a snarl, his hands clenching into fists. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on the first target—a vase, a gift from my grandmother. He smashed it against the wall, the shattering of ceramic echoing through the room.

I jumped up, my heart pounding. "Rob, stop!" I reached for his arm, but he shook me off, his rage a tangible force.

He stormed into the kitchen, sweeping his arm across the counter. Dishes crashed to the floor, glass and pottery exploding into shards. I followed, my bare feet crunching on the debris. "Please, Rob. Calm down."

He whirled on me, his eyes wild. "Calm down? You want me to calm down?" He grabbed the nearest object, my laptop, and hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a sickening crunch, the screen splintering.

My thesis. My work. My future. Gone in an instant.

A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal. I lunged at him, my fists pummeling his chest. "You bastard! That was my thesis!"

He grabbed my wrists, his grip bruising. "You cheated on me, Gemma. You fucked someone else in our bed." His voice was a low growl, his breath hot on my face.

I wrenched one hand free and slapped him, the sound sharp in the sudden silence. His head snapped to the side, a red welt blooming on his cheek.

He turned back to me, his eyes cold. Before I could react, his hand whipped out, backhanding me across the face. Pain exploded in my cheek, my vision swimming with stars. I stumbled back, my hand pressed to my face, the taste of blood in my mouth.

The room spun, Rob's figure blurring. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, trying to understand what had just happened. The world tilted, and I felt myself falling, the darkness rushing up to meet me.

Chapter 10

Matt

"T

hat was not a good idea," I said, watching Gemma crumple to the floor. Her eyes fluttered closed, a soft moan escaping her lips. A primal urge to protect her surged through me, every muscle tensing.

"Matthew Sokolov?" Rob's voice cut through the tension, incredulity dripping from each syllable. "You… you and her…?"

I turned to face him, my gaze steady, unyielding. "She's mine," I declared, the words echoing in the suddenly silent room. "And you destroyed her work, her home. You put your hands on her." I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a low growl. "This is not good for you, Rob."

His face contorted, a mix of anger and disbelief. "You think you can waltz in here and claim her? She's just a piece of ass to you, isn't she?" His voice rose, echoing off the cold locker room walls. "I've known her for years, and you—you're just some hotshot center who thinks he can have whatever he wants!"

He lunged at me, fists flying. I sidestepped, his punch grazing my shoulder. Rob charged again, his face red with rage. Thistime, I stood my ground, bracing for impact. His fist connected with my jaw, pain exploding across my face. I staggered back, then straightened, a slow smile spreading across my lips.

"That all you got?" I taunted, wiping a trickle of blood from my mouth.

His eyes narrowed, and he came at me again, a whirlwind of fury and frustration. I met his blows, blocking some, taking others. Each hit fueled my determination, my need to protect Gemma burning hotter with every punch. This was more than just a fight; it was a statement, a claim.

And I wouldn't back down.

Rob's fist swung wild, telegraphing his moves like a rookie.

I ducked, his knuckles grazing air. My heart pounded, not from exertion, but from the sight of Gemma, crumpled and bruised. That was fuel, pure and potent.

I drove my fist into his gut. He doubled over, gasping. I followed with an uppercut, snapping his head back. He stumbled, caught off guard by my ferocity. I didn't give him time to recover. I advanced, each step a promise, each blow a testament to my vow. She was mine to protect.

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