Page 19 of Atone

Because I’m getting the impression you’re a forceful prick.

Because I still have a shred of self-respect, no matter how thin you think it is.

I don’t say any of that to Oxy, trying to maintain my practiced façade. Mila Bianchi is pleasant, pretty, agreeable, and party-loving. She’s flirty and doesn’t cause trouble.

Better they think that than wonder what I might be getting into.

“We’ll meet up next time.” My overly sugary comment doesn’t erase the bitterness on my tongue. “I promised I’d do Patience a favor tonight, so I really can’t stay.”

“A favor?”

“I have to drop something off with her brother.”

Oxy’s hand falls to his side, and his eyes widen. “Alex?”

That’s not the reaction I was expecting. Alex might be a Sigma Sin urban legend for what happened to him at his trial, but Oxy started school after Alex was already in Montgomery. I didn’t think they knew each other.

Oxy’s face pales the slightest, but he doesn’t back up. If anything, the lust in his gaze churns with something else.

Annoyance?

Rage?

“You know Alex?” I hope the question comes out friendly.

“Not personally.” He huffs like he’s irritated by my question. “But I guess Marco was right.”

“Right about what?”

Oxy’s lip tilts in a wicked grin. “You’ll spread your legs for just about anyone, apparently. Even Sigma Sin’s very own psycho.”

“Don’t call him that.” My instinct has me defending Alex before myself.

Later, I might need to dig into why that is.

“Why not? It’s the truth.” Oxy grabs my wrist so hard it hurts. “But I don’t mind. If it’s the crazy ones you like fucking, I’m happy to help play into that little fantasy.”

Oxy’s free hand aims for between my legs, and my vision spots around the edges.

Hands where they don’t belong.

Screaming.

Blood.

Fire.

I act on instinct and shove my knee hard into Oxy’s groin.

He buckles over with a grunt, releasing my wrist. In that split second, I twist, elbowing him in the face. The crunch of his nose breaking fills the night. He stumbles backward, falling to his knees in the dirt.

“Bitch.” He spits a wad of blood, glaring up at me.

“Asshole,” I shoot back.

Oxy is too dazed to climb to his feet, but his eyes promise revenge, so I hurry to climb into my car. I might know the basics of self-defense, but I’m not willing to push it.

As I lock my doors, Oxy finds his footing.

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