I squirm, trying to right myself. After being turned over his shoulder so many times, you’d think I’d have found a way to straighten up by now.
At least I’m not wearing a Redwood Prep skirt and flashing my butt cheeks at everyone tonight.
As we’re passing the kitchen, Serena stumbles out holding two plates full of wings. Her eyes bug and she looks torn between wanting to save me and wanting to go nowhere near this mess.
I wave her away, knowing better than anyone that she shouldn’t get into Dutch’s path right now. His sick, twisted mind might try to get revenge on her and I don’t want my friends in the crosshairs of this war.
Dutch carts me up to the second floor, kicks a bedroom door open and barges in.
The two people currently occupied on the bed squeal and try to cover themselves up.
“Get. Out.”
Two naked blurs streak past us, carrying their clothes and shoes with them.
Dutch kicks the door shut with his boot and throws me unceremoniously on the bed.
I squeal like he tossed me into a tub full of live octopi. Ew. I knowexactlywhat was going on in this bed a second ago and I don’t want any of it touching my skin.
Fuming, I pop to my feet. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Don’t you remember, Brahms? As long as you’re at Redwood Prep, you belong to me.”
“I belong tono one.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,Cadey.” His amber eyes are glowing. “You. Belong. To. Me.”
“Sorry to burst your sadistic little bubble, Dutch, but I’m not your property. You don’t get to just,” my voice climbs as my temper explodes, “boss me around.”
“That’s exactly what I can and will do,” he says stiffly.
“What the hell do you want from me?” I surge toward him. “You’ve been icing me out all day and then you get pissed off when you see me dancing with someone else? Choose a freaking side and stick to it!”
His brow tenses. Dutch is usually so good at holding in his emotions, but I can see it all bubbling right under the surface tonight. He’s not just angry. He’s seething with it. A rage so dark and turbulent it can’t be controlled. It’s like a part of him is coming unhinged.
I should be scared. He’s big enough and strong enough, to break me in half. But I realize something when I see his emotions laid bare.
He’s fallible.
Vulnerable.
Human.
He’s fighting with me, yeah, but he’s really fighting with himself. The scars are all over him from the vein bulging out of his neck to the flare of his nostrils.
He’s not the cocky god of Redwood Prep.
He’s like me, torn up and conflicted and broken as hell.
I smile and it seems to set off a flame in him. His stormy gaze locks on me. “You think this is funny?”
“I think you’re pathetic,” I spit.
His lips press together, flattening into thin lines.
“You act like you own all of Redwood Prep, but you’re so afraid of me. So afraid to tell me what I did to you. Why do you hate me so much?”
He turns away, his jaw flexing.