Page 49 of Bleed for Me

I scoffed at the absurdity of that question. “I don’t think I could hate you even if I tried. That’s the problem.”

His posture relaxed slightly, but it was obvious that he was still upset about something—probably the fact that I had someone else bent over the bed if I had to guess. “I know this is a fucked up situation, and I can’t explain my attraction for her in words?—”

I tensed, my hands curling into fists where they rested within my lap. “Please don’t. I don’t want to hear it.” I didn’t want to know how much he liked her, not when it was blatantly obvious. “Why did you come in here, anyways?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Connor has everything set up in the woods, and I offered to relay the message so he wouldn’t have to.”

Connor was one of the security guards. My parents wired him the cash, and he bought the alcohol and music. Where we were partying was so far away from the asylum, the music wouldn’t reach prying ears. That’s one thing I liked about this place. The woods stretched on for miles. Unfortunately, there was a large, electric fence wrapped around the whole of the property, otherwise I would have left ages ago.

Sighing, I leaned forward, attempting to rest my head against his, but at the last minute, he dodged it, forcing his lips against mine instead. I reacted instantly, cupping the side of his face, and deepening the kiss. It was slow, sensual, and filled with words neither of us could say. His hands moved up to my neck, his tongue slipping through the gap between my parted lips. A low groan erupted from my chest, my dick still painfully hard.

“Come on.” He smirked, peeling away and rising back to his feet. “Maybe we can sneak off at the party but take a shower. I don’t want to taste that bitch on you.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Deal.”

Archer was much better than I was. If I walked in on him fucking someone else—anyoneelse—I would have torn them away from him and fucked their shit up. He was more patient than I was, more understanding. Maybe there was a part of him that felt guilty for his attraction to her, but like all obsessions, he couldn’t let her go regardless of the wreckage it caused. I wanted to be more understanding. I knew that it wasn’t something he could help, but it was still painful. Watching him chase after someone who he didn’t even know despite having me was difficult. On the bright side, he barely spared her a glance yesterday, or today when we’d seen her. But on the downside, she didn’t look too pleased about it. I’d been watching her watch him, her jaw set, and her eyes narrowed, like she was trying to figure out why he’d suddenly given her distance.

So far, she’d stuck to her word and stopped chasing after him after I threatened to rip her stuffed animal to shreds earlier this week. But the moment she allowed him to touch her intimately, or she went out of her way to see him, all bets were off. I’d make her pay for it.

After my shower, I made the trek through the woods. Twigs and leaves crunched beneath my shoes. By the time I reached the open clearing, I stopped. My gaze took in the assortment of portable tables spread throughout the area. Alcohol covered one of them with a cooler resting on the ground beside it. On the other table were a variety of different snacks.

Connor came in clutch, but who wouldn’t for two grand? The security officers didn’t make a lot of money here, so the extra compensation probably helped him out a lot—especially since he had a wife and two children at home.

“Here,” Jordan said, holding out an iPod touch. “He brought this before you got here. There’s a wireless speaker over there.” He motioned toward a tree, causing my eyebrows to dip in confusion.

“Where?”

“Behind the tree, jackass.” He huffed. “It’s already connected to Bluetooth. Just pick a damn song.”

Glancing down at the foreign device in my hand, I scrolled through a list of song titles before deciding on Addicted by Saving Abel. Since I’d been trapped in here for so long without technology, I didn’t have a strong music pallet, but some of these were familiar.

“Everything looks good,” Archer called out from behind me. I turned to see him assessing the alcohol and snacks.

Technically, no one here was supposed to consume alcohol at all. Especially people with bipolar disorder or psychosis, but with how shitty life has been for me lately, I didn’t give a shit.

It didn’t take long for people to start showing up. By the time the sun had started to set, everyone had a drink in their hand. Some people danced while others just talked to their friends. It wasn’t bad considering we didn’t have much to work with, but it was still successful.

I dropped into one of the plastic chairs Connor had brought and quietly assessed the crowd that had formed. Not everyone was here. We only invited people from the East Wing—people we didn’t think would snitch.

Turning my head, my gaze clashed with a pair of blue eyes. Rosalie. We hadn’t spoken since the incident in the cafeteria. She seemed more reluctant to be anywhere near me now, but it didn’t phase me any. My eyes darted down to her long legs, annoyance flickering inside me. Why the fuck did she have to dress like that? She was clearly begging for attention. Cheyanne stood at her side, the two of them looking around the clearingin awe. I bet the little virgin had never even tasted alcohol. A sinister smile curled the corners of my mouth as I clung to that thought.

Standing, I filled one of the red solo cups with vodka and orange juice before making a beeline for her. Rosalie’s eyes widened when I approached, and she took a hesitant step backwards. Extending my arm, I offered her the cup, but she flinched like I was going to toss it on her.

“Peace offering.” I smirked.

She knew that was bullshit. Her eyes skated over me with skepticism before she reluctantly plucked the cup from my grasp. “I don’t drink,” she murmured, glancing at the contents within the cup.

“Figured as much. Try it. It’ll help mellow you out.”

“What did you do to it?” she demanded, arching an eyebrow with accusation written into her facial expression.

I rolled my eyes. “I have no reason to drug you, Rosalie?—”

My sentence was brought to a screeching halt when Archer joined us, his gaze raking over his most prized possession.Her. My blood started to heat as he assessed her slowly and noticeably, his eyes taking in her thick thighs and long legs. He was fucking her with a simple look, and it pissed me off.

“What’s going on?” he asked, drifting his gaze to mine. His jaw was tight with tension.

“Gave her a drink.” I shrugged. Was he mad that he didn’t get to her first, or did he think I’d done something else?

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