“What?” I bit out.
 
 “Dirty,” she finally answered. “I felt like your friend tonight. You saw me, you liked me, you respected me… And now I feel like a simple, stupid girl—a dirty secret that needs to sit quiet in a corner and wait for your word to speak or move. I don’t feel like your equal anymore.”
 
 I released her, letting out a bitter laugh as I turned away. “You’re such a kid. A fucking kid.”
 
 Goddamn insecurities and tantrums. It was a year. She couldn’t wait a fucking year?
 
 “I’m not a kid,” she stated. “You’re just a coward. At least Trevor wants me more than anything else.”
 
 I exhaled hard, every muscle in my stomach tightening and burning as I glared at her.
 
 I didn’t think. I grabbed her by the arms and pushed her into the railing in front of the window, hovering down over her face, nearly nose to nose.
 
 I breathed hard, wanting her so goddamn much, but I was pissed beyond everything right now. She had balls to throw that in my face.
 
 Her face twisted up, and she whimpered, “You’re hurting me.”
 
 And I realized my fingers were digging into her arms. I relaxed my hands, trying to calm down, but it was no use. She was right. I was a coward. I wanted everything and to give up nothing.
 
 I wanted her waiting for me and only me. I didn’t want to deal with the stress my family would put on her or me. I didn’t want any opportunities for my brother to win her over while I was gone.
 
 But what was she going to get out of me? Was I enough?
 
 Or was my father right? Was I not worth a damn? Even if I just admitted it to myself, I’d hurt her.
 
 She was too young, I was away all the time, and for the first time in a long time I didn’t like myself. I didn’t like my reflection in her eyes.
 
 She had too much power over me.
 
 I pushed off her, backing up. “This was a mistake,” I bit out, scowling at her. “You’re pretty, and you have a pussy, but other than that, you’re not special. You’re just ass.”
 
 Her eyebrows nose-dived, and her eyes pooled with tears, looking broken.
 
 No one made me feel like shit for who I was, and ripping out her heart wasn’t going to be enough. It needed to be crushed, so she’d never pull that shit again.
 
 I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her and hearing her cry out. “You hear me?” I growled in her face. “You’re not special. You’re nobody!”
 
 And I released her, twisting around and charging down the stairs as my stomach rolled. My chest hollowed, and I sucked in air, struggling to breathe.
 
 I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t see her pain and face it.
 
 So I bolted. Making my way over to the booth, I dug my keys out of my pocket and tossed them on the table.
 
 “Make sure Rika gets home,” I told the guys, unable to hide the anger on my face. “I’m walking.”
 
 “What the hell happened?” Damon demanded, seeing how pissed I was.
 
 But I just shook my head. “I just have to get out of here. Get her home.”
 
 And I left the three of them sitting at the table as I pulled the hood over my head and left in the rain.
 
 Present
 
 HAD TO GET BACK TO THE CITY. YOUR CAR IS OUTSIDE.
 
 I stared down at the text Michael had sent me four days ago when I’d woken up in his bedroom alone.
 
 Filthy, bruised, sore, and alone.