I can’t help but laugh at the way he follows her around like a puppy yet claims not to want her.
Colt: No can do, man. You can’t see what she’s wearing.
He must sense that I’m about to give up and put my cell away because he starts typing again.
Colt: I miss my wingman. Come on, bro. Come get fucked up with me.
I stare at his words, the need for the sweet oblivion that could come from meeting up with him and doing exactly as he says becomes too hard to deny.
Leon: On my way. Get the drinks ready.
Colt: Yes, bro!
Without looking back at my surroundings, I push through the undergrowth and back toward the parking lot.
It takes me ages to get out of town but when I finally do, I breathe a sigh of relief, my mouth watering for a taste of the strongest alcohol Colt can find me.
I’m almost in Maddison when he sends me his location and I drive straight to the house, not bothering to change. I really don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of the state of me. I’m not here for them, I’m here just to get fucking lost.
It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I know.
The party is in full swing as I sit behind the wheel of my car watching the students fool around in the front yard. Someone has a hold of the hose and is spraying everyone in sight.
Their shrieks and laughter filter down to me and I wonder just how it might feel, to be that carefree and enjoy yourself without the constant darkness trying to consume you whole.
When my thoughts begin to piss me off, I push the door open and climb out walking up toward the house while glaring at the guy with the hose to ensure he knows what a bad fucking idea it would be to direct it at me.
I’m halfway up the yard when the front door opens and the one person I wasn’t expecting bursts out with her hand in another’s.
She’s drunk, that much is obvious the second my eyes take her in.
My fists curl both knowing how much she hates being out of control but also at the fact that someone else is touching her when she’s wearing…
Fuck me.
The silver dress is wrapped around her body like a second skin. It’s short, almost too short, and low-cut, showing off her impressive cleavage.
My cock immediately hardens at the sight of her as images of bending her over in that dress slam into me.
No fucking way is that motherfucker getting anywhere near her.
I don’t even register who he is, it could be Luc or Kane for all I know. My entire focus is on Macie as I fly toward them.
Her scream filters through my red haze as I pull my arm back but it doesn’t stop me throwing my fist into the prick's face.
“Leon,” she screams, her tiny hands wrapping around my upper arm in a pathetic attempt to restrain me while the guy goes stumbling back against the wall.
It’s not until I’ve got him pinned up against the wall by his throat that I realize who he is.
Nathan.
A little bit of guilt flickers through me knowing that Macie sees him as her only friend but it's not enough to make me stop.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” I bark, swinging again and this time connecting with his nose with a satisfying crunch.
“Stop please, Leon. Please,” she cries behind me, her voice rough with emotion and slurred with the alcohol she’s consumed.
Leaning in close to Nathan, I watch as the blood pours from his nose as the front door opens behind us.