Page 68 of Burn With Me

“Why!” he screams once I’m finally done. “Why are you doing this!”

He recoils as I close the back door of my car and step over him, staring down at the sniveling mess I’ve made. Only then do I crouch down and answer his question.

“Keep your fucking eyes and hands off my girl,” I grit the words out, growling as my voice deepens.

“I-I don’t even know who your bitch is,” he blubbers.

It doesn’t matter. I straighten and put my booted foot right between his legs, stepping down hard and twisting my ankle until he whimpers and shakes. “Then I guess you better not touch anyone’s girl in the future, eh? Keep your fucking hands to yourself, or next time you’ll have more than broken fingers to worry about.” I lift my foot up, and before he can move back or realize what I’m about to do, I kick him squarely in the crotch, hard enough that his head turns and he fucking pukes like the prick he is.

I spit on his face and kick him out of the way as he huddles and balls himself up, his broken hands going to his crotch. The sight is enough to give me a high, that adrenaline from earlier roaring to the forefront as I move back towards the driver’s side door. I pop it and get in, twisting the wheel as I throw down the emergency brake and put the car in drive.

The revving engine hits my ears as I make a U-turn and speed back the same way I came, passing the man on the ground. As I pull off the ski mask and toss it onto the folder in the passenger seat, my phone rings.

I give the cell a half glance before hitting answer. “Speak.”

“Where are you?” Shep’s voice echoes into the interior of the car.

“Taking care of some business,” I hedge. “‘Bout to drop off a car and head your way.”

“You might want to hurry,” he says.

“What’s up?”

“Paris.”

Fuck.That’s all that needs to be said. If Shep’s calling on Paris’ behalf, that means something’s gone down with the Troy Family. They couldn’t have chosen a worse night. I scrub a hand down my face and then pause as something wet lands on my cheek. Sliding to the side, I check my face in the rearview mirror.

Blood smudges against the upper side of my face. Damn it. I grimace. “I’ll be there soon,” I snap. “Let me get rid of this car and I’ll be right there.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the line and then, “What do you mean get rid of the car?” Shep demands. “Isaac? What the fuck did you do?”

“Tell you later,” I reply, “but it’s fine. I’ve taken care of everything. There won’t be repercussions.”

“This is about the girl, isn’t it?” Shep snaps, but instead of giving me a chance to answer, he continues. “I don’t like this. You need to screw your head on right. Whatever’s going on with her, let it go.”

Never.I scowl. “I’ll be at yours soon,” I snap. “Talk then.” I shove my thumb against the screen, ending the call before he says anything else that’s sure to piss me off.

Whether or not he approves of it, my relationship with Aurora has already gone past the point of no return. He’ll have to learn to accept it sooner or later because if tonight has proved anything … it’s that I’m too far gone.

32

RORI

Icontemplate making myself unavailable when Isaac shows up to pick me up on Friday. In fact, I plan it out. I pack a bag. I pull up the website and phone number to a local hotel with a reputation for being tight on its security, since it often houses celebrities and other people in important positions.

In the end, however, I find myself standing outside of Rozenfeld wearing a loose gray sweater tucked into a tight black pleather skirt and knee-high matching black boots. The changing of the seasons might have some people regretting the skirt, but this is California—not New York. Even in the fall, it’s hot here.

Isaac’s black escalade rolls up less than five minutes after I step outside and instead of letting him get out and open the door, I step up to the passenger side and nearly rip the handle off in an effort to get in. The sooner I get this over, the better. Or so I tell myself.

Isaac arches a brow as he grips the steering wheel, watching me struggle up into the seat. “Having problems there, goddess?”

“Shut. Up.” I lock my fingers around the ‘oh, shit’ handle and yank my body into his Escalade. “Why do you have to drive such a massive fucking car? I’d ask if you were compensating for something, but…”

I let the words trail off as my ass finally hits the seat and I turn, releasing the handle to shut the door behind me.

“Oh, I’m compensating alright,” he says, putting the vehicle into park as he leans across the console.

I straighten, pressing my spine into the back of the seat as he reaches across my front and grabs the seatbelt. He tugs it lightly and then moves it over my body, the backs of his hands brushing my breasts as he clicks it into place. My nipples tighten beneath my bra and sweater and I pray that he can’t see them in the darkened interior of the car.

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