Page 3 of Wicked Scorn
I take a step forward, opening my mouth to speak, when suddenly that same fist flies toward me with the force of every accusation he’s hurled. The punch lands square on my jaw, a sharp jolt that radiates through my skull.
“Royce!” Oakley cries out, but her voice is distant, drowned out by the ringing in my ears.
I taste copper on my tongue as I stagger back. Pain and anger mix together like venom in my veins. For a second—just one—I consider letting loose the fury building inside me.
In that heartbeat before chaos erupts, Oakley slips between us—her softness a stark contrast to our hard edges. “Stop it!” Tears streak down her cheeks as she pushes against Royce’s chest. “This isn’t you!”
Royce’s gaze flickers from Oakley to me—the fire in his eyes giving way to confusion before he blinks it away.
He grabs Oakley by the arm, none too gently. “Get in the house,” he orders gruffly.
“No,” she defies him again, her spirit unyielding even while her voice cracks.
“Now!” Royce yells, dragging her behind him.
I lunge forward instinctively but stop dead as Royce pins me with a glare that could cut steel. “Leave it be, Blackwood.” His words are a final warning—a line drawn deep in the sandbetween us.
“Look, Ashford,” I try again, desperation creeping into my tone. “Whatever you think happened, didn’t. We can figure out what the fuck is going on together, though.”
“Together?” His laugh is sharp and cold. “You think some pretty words will fix this?”
“I think you’re seeing red and not fucking thinking clearly,” I counter, every muscle tensed, ready for whatever comes next.
Oakley wriggles free from his grasp and whirls on me; her blue eyes pools of turmoil as she mouths ‘sorry.’
“Rem?” Oakley’s voice trembles slightly, pulling me back from the edge of rage. Her tears are silent as they carve tracks down her cheeks.
“I’m okay, bunny,” I assure her, but my voice is thick with my own anger and hurt. She doesn’t need to see how close I am to unraveling. How one fucking moment in time has just ended a friendship that was supposed to be thicker than blood.
I watch as my best fucking friend and the only girl a Blackwood gives a fuck about turn and walk up their wraparound porch and the blue front door closes behind them. A picturesque setting of the quintessential American home.
Heading back to my bike, I pull my phone out to check what the fuck is going on and why it’s been ringing nonstop. Countless missed calls and unread messages show up in my notifications.
Exhaling harshly, I pick one to open. It’s Lincoln—my brother who has never met a party he didn’t love or a rule he didn’t break—with dozens of frantic texts asking where I am and why I’m not answering him.
Linc
Jere, shit has gone sideways. It’s Penn and Dad. Come home now.
The words send a shiver straight to my core, different from the sting still radiating off my jaw. I take one more look at the Ashford house and vow to myself to fucking tackle that issue tomorrow.
My brothers can’t wait.
There is nothing more important in my world than a Blackwood brother and duty calls, even when all I want to do is check up on Oakley.
Chapter 1
Jeremiah
The bass vibrates through the floor like a goddamn earthquake, and the air’s so thick with sweat and sweet-smelling smoke that you could slice it with a knife, and it would barely move. The underground scene is a breeding ground for all things raw and untamed—and here we are, the kings of campus, wading through a sea of writhing bodies. It’s fucking exhausting sometimes having to do this, be this, but I can’t deny this is one of the best outlets outside of football for me.
“Jeremiah.” Lincoln’s voice cuts through the music, his tattooed arm nudging me in the ribs. His eyes are locked on someone dancing in the center of it all.
I follow his gaze, and there she is—Oakley. Fucking Oakley Ashford. My heart goes rogue, thumping against my chest like it wants to break free. She’s a vision in pastel, her golden hair a halo in the strobe lights, body swaying with a grace that belongs in a dream, not this hedonistic nightmare. My brain goes dumb for just a split second as I seethe girl, the one good thing I had in my life show up in front of me.
“Jere?” Penn’s voice is barely audible over the chaos, but I’m already gone, pushing past him and Graham, who’s trying to say something about not doing anything fucking dumb. It goes in one ear and out the other. I already know I’m going to do some dumb ass shit, even though I’m supposed to be the most put together. Not when it comes to her.
“Shit,” I mutter, brushing off his concern. My strides are deliberate, each step narrowing the gap between me and the girl who has been haunting my dreams for two damn years since Royce ripped us apart, and I let him.
