Page 4 of Vendetta

The instant his gaze locked onto mine, my body betrayed me. Every ounce of free will vanished as I stood frozen in place, unable to tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. His piercing stare burned into mine, the vein in his neck pulsing angrily, each beat amplifying the raw tension between us. That same murderous glare from earlier was now sharper, more deliberate, as if daring me to speak—or flee.

And yet, I couldn’t move. My muscles felt paralyzed, my mind screaming at me to turn around and leave. But my body refused to obey, rooted to the spot as if tethered by an invisible force I couldn’t shake.

Eyes still on mine, he had me in a trance of sorts as his grip on her hair tightened and his thrusts became more aggressive, the vein in his neck bulging as his jaw clenched harder. I could hear her starting to gag at his quickening movements, unable to keep up with the aggressive pace.

Without consent, my eyes drifted down his god-like body and I felt myself growing wet between my legs. My brain finally cleared long enough for me to spin on my heels, slamming the door closed beside me as I ran back down the hallway from where I had originally come from.

I didn’t have a doubt in my mind that my face was as red as a tomato as I made my way back downstairs, deciding that I could hold my restroom demands until we got back to the dorms.I felt like my body was on fire, and I was highly unsettled by the unwelcome throbbing taking place between my thighs.

Back at our campus apartment, Bexley and I ordered takeout before exhaustion overtook us, sending each of us to our respective rooms. My head pounded, a dull throb that I couldn’t tell was from dehydration, the alcohol, or maybe both.

I forced myself into the walk-in shower, my body heavy with fatigue. The warm water cascaded over me, soothing my aching muscles and rinsing away the chlorine from my hair. I tried my best to scrub it all out, though my drunken clumsiness made it a losing battle.

Still, it wasn’t the sting of exhaustion or the burn of water in my eyes that consumed me—it was the one image that kept flashing in my mind, over and over again, each time my eyelids fluttered shut.

And as I made the decision to shut the rational part of my brain down for a moment, I let myself fall into that one image that was now ingrained in my head.

Eyes still closed, I leaned back against the shower wall and let my hand roam down my stomach, the tips of my fingers finally grazing my sensitive clit. The dampness between my thighs hadn’t settled since leaving the party, and I was deciding to give into it.

My fingers made small circles over the sensitive bud, nearly causing my body to go slack before sliding two fingers inside of myself and letting out a small moan. I wanted to mentally berate myself for envisioning his face as I drew the pleasure from myself, frustrated by the disconnect between my body and my brain.

But as I brought myself to climax with the memory of his eyes searing through me, I felt all of the tension releasing from my body. And as I collapsed into bed, my head sinking into the cool satin pillows, the only thought echoing in my mind before sleep claimed me was,What the hell just happened?

CHAPTER 2

CASHTON

Landry fucking Andrews. I had known who she was the moment her bleach blonde ponytail had swished its way up to us earlier. I loathed the way my dick had hardened as her baby blues had roamed over me. And it took every ounce of my energy to shove out the mental images of what those glossy lips would look like with my cock shoved between them.

But I had to wrestle my mind into submission and ignore the way my body betrayed me—because Landry Andrews was everything I despised. It didn’t matter how her sun-kissed skin looked in that barely-there white bikini or how the glint of that damn belly ring seemed to dare me to stare. None of that mattered. What mattered was the fire burning in my chest, the unrelenting need to make her suffer, to make her life as miserable as she’d made mine—whether she realized it or not.

I bet she thought this was her big fresh start, the hope shining in her wide eyes as she laughed and mingled with myfriends. She looked so sure of herself, so perfectly poised in her little act of innocence. But I wasn’t buying it. I knew Landry Andrews. Maybe I hadn’t met her before today, but I’d felt the ripple effects of her existence in ways she couldn’t begin to understand. And there was no way in hell that I’d let her worm her way into the tight-knit group I called my family. Not now. Not ever.

A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the sight of her, laughing carefree in the hot tub with the others and her petite redheaded friend.

Living it up, as though she hadn’t caused my family unimaginable pain. The irony was almost laughable—she probably had no idea. That only made it sweeter because it meant she wouldn’t see me coming. Exactly the way I wanted it. Vengeance, after all, was a dish best served cold.

She wasn’t sorry, but she would be. Landry Andrews had taken the most important thing in my life away from me, and it was time someone knocked her off that gilded pedestal she perched so high on. And nothing would give me greater satisfaction than being the one to do it.

CHAPTER 3

LANDRY

My head throbbed mercilessly, a sharp reminder of my Sunday indulgence. Why had I let myself get so carried away? Note to self: this cannot become a habit, especially with classes waiting to punish me for my recklessness. Thankfully, Mondays were my easiest days—just two classes: Communications Studies and European Literature. For once, I patted my past self on the back for scheduling wisely.

When planning my semester, I’d strategically loaded most of my coursework into the middle of the week, leaving Mondays and Fridays as lighter, more manageable days. Sure, the evening classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays weren’t ideal, but the trade-off of half-days on both ends of the week? Totally worth it. Today, though, even an easy schedule felt impossible.

This morning, I traded my usual getting-ready routine for a few extra minutes in bed. Sleep still clung to me, and the thought of putting effort into my appearance felt moreexhausting than worth it. Instead, I decided on a messy bun and skipped the makeup altogether. Priorities.

The sun streamed mercilessly through my blinds, a glaring reminder of my poor decision not to buy curtains this past weekend. With a groan, I made a mental note to check if Amazon delivered out here. If not, I’d have to muster the courage to drive into town—a prospect that instantly made my stomach churn. Driving wasn’t something I did unless absolutely necessary. Not since the accident in January.

It had happened not far from here, just a few miles from campus. One moment, everything was normal. The next, I was waking up in the hospital, being informed that my mom was gone. It had taken months to even sit in the driver’s seat again, and though I could do it now if I had no other choice, I avoided it whenever possible. Some wounds didn’t heal with time—they just lingered, quiet but ever-present, waiting to remind you of what you’d lost.

I hit snooze a few more times before finally dragging myself into my closet and grabbing the first oversized T-shirt and pair of gym shorts within reach. Function over fashion—it was way too early to care.

I was definitely not a morning person, and days like this only made me wish I could turn to coffee for some much-needed help. I had stopped all caffeine a while back when I started noticing that it would make my anxiety a million times worse throughout the day, sometimes even causing panic attacks for no reason other than the accelerated heart rate. I was just going to have to raw-dog it today and suffer through the hangover.

Desperate for food, I made a quick detour on my way to Communications, veering into the food court to grab a bag ofTakis from the convenience store. There was no time to wait in line for anything made-to-order—I was already running late, and my stomach was protesting too loudly to care about a balanced breakfast. Spicy snacks were the ultimate hangover cure anyway, a theory I would swear by until the end of time.

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