Page 73 of Sour Lollipops and Sweet Nightmares
Good luck explaining that one, prick.
“You asked where I was.” Ravi casually shrugged. “Was I supposed to lie?”
Alright, you smooth motherfucker.
I was going to call him on this shit, right fucking now. “You were baiting me into coming over here.”
There was smugness in his raised brow when he smirked at me. “And why would I do that, Issac?”
Son of a…
“I don’t know Ravi,” I snarled back at him. “Why would you do that?”
What the hell else was I supposed to say to that? Georgia’s my bride, and he was trying to force me to claim her? That would go over well. I didn’t care what Georgia thought, but The Society would whip me within an inch of my life for blabbing. We were secret for a reason.
Touché. This round went to him.
Georgia took a step back, closer to the open door of Craven House. “I think you guys should leave.”
Now she was wary. She was happy to intervene when we were having a full-blown smackdown.
“What are you going to do, Peaches? Have us arrested for being outside?” I’d like to see her try.
We owned the cops in this town. I could kick her door in and shove my cock down her throat while they surrounded the house, and no one would do shit. They’d hold her down for me if I asked.
“Um, Georgia…”
That was when I noticed the other girl standing inside the doorway. She was staring at me with big, wide eyes, like she was afraid I was going to eat her. There was something familiar about her. I’d seen her somewhere before, but I couldn’t think of where. Who the fuck was this bitch?
She lifted her hand and pointed at my arm. “He’s bleeding pretty bad.”
I was?
I looked down at my arm.
Oh shit, I was.
There was a large stream of blood trickling down my arm from a cut in my bicep. That must’ve been what I felt when we hit the ground.
Georgia’s expression morphed from cautious to worried, then she turned around and disappeared into the house. That was an odd reaction, and I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Huh?” Ravi huffed. “I guess she’s scared of blood.”
“I can use that,” I muttered while staring back at the open doorway.
Let’s see how snide Georgia Pyne was when I cut her up a bit. She’d look real pretty painted in her own blood. Would she cry and beg me to stop just as she did in the cafeteria, because I’d like to see that again. She looked divine when her eyes were wide with fear.
That idea was blown out of the water when Georgia came rushing out of the house with her glasses on her face and a first aid kit in her hand.
What the fuck?
She dropped to the ground next to me and reached for my arm.
I yanked it away. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to clean your cut.” She paused to roll her eyes up to mine. “Unless you want to get sepsis?”
What was her game here? “I’ll clean it when I get back to my room.”
