“You heard me.”
Her eyes are wide now, her panic overtaking the anger. She does nothing for what feels like a really long time.
I don’t remember every word I wrote to her in that cell. I was out of my mind when I wrote those things—real nasty things. But something tells me she could recite them in her sleep.
“How many times have you read them?”
“Hundreds,” she admits, swallowing against my palm. “They’re mine, Atty.”
“I don’t care. Burn them.”
“No.”
We stare each other out a moment, and then I take the lighter from her, using my free hand to flip the black top over and strike the flame. I hold it up between us, using the light to look into her pretty eyes, moving her head around to study every inch of her perfect little face. She still looks mad at me, but she also looks terrified I might actually do this. Fear isn’t something I usually see on her. Not when she’s looking at me.
“I fucking love you, Violet Sinclair,” I whisper, remembering that part. “That’s what I wrote at the end of each one, right? That’s what you’re holding on to.”
She doesn’t say anything at first, the papers crumpling even more inside her tightening fist. “You told me you hated me.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“Maybe, but still…”
“Damn it, Violet, do you know how hard it was in there without you?” I hiss, and her gaze drops to my hand on my dick. “Not just this, but all of it. You fucking left me.”
“You left me first.”
I pull back at that, using my grip on her neck to get her to look at me again. “Is that what this was about? You wanted to punish me for getting myself thrown in jail?”
“No,” she defends, but then her voice gets smaller. “Not really. I don’t know.”
“What do you know, Vi?” I bite out, my patience wearing thin.
“I know you’re fucking crazy. I know your obsession with me is toxic as fuck and I needed to get out. I know you’re bad for me and I’m better off without you.”
“That’s your mother putting words in your mouth. They’re not yours.”
She shrugs, not denying it. “Maybe she’s right.”
“Maybe she’s a cunt.”
“Atty.”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighs heavily, but then a teeny little smile creeps across her lips, and I swear to God, it feels like my heart runs and smashes itself against the inside of my chest, desperate to get to her, begging for a taste of what’s mine.
Not caring if it earns me another slap to the face, I take my shot and drop both hands to her waist, roughly pressing my lips to hers without warning. She doesn’t hit me, but she does freeze up a bit. And then she whispers a curse and kisses me back.
She’s fucking kissing me back.
Her fingers move through my hair as she gives me her tongue to suck on, and the relief rushing through me almost knocks me on my ass. Unable to stand up anymore, I fall to my knees in front of her and look up at her face, running my palms over her fishnets. She licks my taste off her lips, and I yank her to the ground with me, forcing her down on her back and pulling her toward me by the backs of her knees. She winces at the scrape of the branches on her bare flesh, and I reach under her to grab the bottle I must have dropped before, wedged beneath her hip. I toss it over my shoulder and lean in to kiss her again, making it messy as fuck and dirtying her up as much as I can. With that goal in mind, I run my tongue over her mouth and cheek, then down to her neck, grinning when I see the forgotten lighter next to her head and the pile of dirty letters she’s lying on.
“I win.”
CHAPTER 6
VIOLET