Page 30 of A Voice In Chains
Meanwhile, I rub the space between my brows, muttering, “Real smooth, Zach. Real fucking smooth.”
“Where the fuck is he?”I grumble, checking the time on my phone again.
“Have you tried contacting him?” Neriah asks before she takes a swig of Fanta and leans back against my car with her book in her hand.
“I’ve messaged him.” The text remains unopened, and I tap my phone on my open palm. Where could he be? Mum would have let me know if he had a meeting or something.
After sending him another message, I rest my foot against the vehicle behind me.
We wait, but the message remains unread.
I try again, frowning, typing almost aggressively while growing more agitated by the second.
Where is he? He could have messaged me out of courtesy if he was running late. I don’t have all day to wait out here.
I’m heading to my friends’ place after dropping my sister and Arkin off at home. We need to head off. I have somewhere to be.
Fed up, I push off the car and tell my sister to wait while I search for him.
She shrugs and mutters, “Whatever,” as a gentle breeze rustles the page she’s reading. Smoothing it out with her hand, she ignores the lock of hair falling over her eyes.
The hallways are almost empty now most students have left. I’m poking my head into every classroom, wondering if Arkin has left already, when I hear moaning coming from around the corner.
My steps falter. There’s no one around… just me.
Sneaking closer, I listen for a moment, back pressed to the wall outside the room.
A muffled “Fuck” hits my ears as I carefully pull down on the handle to peek inside. What greets me has my blood boiling, and I rip open the door, storming inside like a damn hurricane.
Spread eagle on the tutor’s desk, Amy spots me first and shrieks. She tries to shove Arkin off her, but he keeps pounding her pussy, fully fucking dressed. His black jeans are halfway down his thighs, while my girlfriend is as naked as the day she was born.
I pick up her white lace bra on one of the seats and stare at it.
Is this for fucking real? Aretheyfor fucking real?
As I collect her panties off the floor, I question who I’m the angriest at. Her for cheating on me? Or him for fucking my girl?
For fuckinganyone…period.
Tossing Amy’s underwear aside, I see red as I tear up the few steps to the desk. They’re standing now. Amy darts past me to find her clothes, but Arkin… Arkin stares me straight in the eye with a blank, somehow intense expression, and it dawns on me as I ram my fist into his face that he wanted to hurt me. To get back at me.
“You fucked my girlfriend?” I punch him again, barely noticing the explosive pain in my knuckles when they connect with his jaw. I charge him, and we crash to the floor.
“Zach!” Amy shouts behind me, tears streaming as she clutches her dress to her chest, but my fury isn’t directed at her. I couldn’t give a shit about her or who she spreads her legs for.
She can go ahead and screw the entire football team if she wants—why not indulge in a gangbang while she’s at it—but she can’t have Arkin.
No one can.
But I still pretend like I care, spouting stupid shit like, “You touched my girl!”
I punch him in the side because purging this putrid jealousy feels good, but it’s not enough. Nothing is. No matter how many punches I serve, I still can’t get the picture of him on top of her out of my damn head.
I bet he liked it. Amy feels good. Fuck, I know. I’ve dicked her down enough times to know just how tight she is, and how her pussy squeezes you so damn good when she’s close.
Dammit.
I scramble away from Arkin, panting hard, possibly fucking crying—I don’t know—and he climbs to his feet and wipes the fresh blood off his chin.
