Page 126 of Anger

Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I make the choice to betray the only friend I’ve ever had. The taste is bitter and acrid, my stomach knotting up from the churn of bile.

I’m defeated.

I just have to accept it.

“You swear you won’t hurt her?”

He holds up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

I snort. “I highly doubt you were a Boy Scout.

“You’re right about that.”

I blow out a long breath.

“I’ll do it,” I say, barely able to speak around the unshakable need to scream or cry or lunge at Damon to scrape my fingernails down his face before ripping off his fucking balls.

“Good girl,” he answers. “The car will be in the parking lot of your apartment. The keys hidden in the glove box. Look for a black Mercedes. In the dump you live in, I highly doubt you’ll miss it.”

Damon goes to leave but stops at the door to take another assessing look at the bullshit props around the room.

“Would have been fun to try out some of this stuff with you.”

His eyes meet mine. “It’s too bad we’ve run out of time.”

When he closes the door on his way out, my legs lose all strength, and I sink to the floor.

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?

Damon

“You dumbass motherfuckers! For all the bullshit you supposedlyknow,” Blue makes air quotes with her fingers, “one would think you’d know that Brinley has fucking panic attacks! Why couldn’t you just meet us in the parking lot of the restaurant like normal people? Do you have to be so goddamned extra? I’ll cut off both of your balls if something fucking happens to Brinley after running us off the road!”

Blue’s threats are muffled by the hood over her head.

“I fucking mean it, you twisted, sadistic assholes! She better be okay, or both of you will be running scared after I find out something bad happened to her! I don’t give a single flying fuck about your piece of shitInferno. You both can go fuck yourselves.”

My eyes narrow on her, wondering how she knows about the Inferno, while Ezra steps back, takes off his helmet, looks Blue up and down then over at me.

“This is the stripper?”

“I’m not a fucking stripper,” she barks.

Chuckling at the absurdity of Blue’s behavior, I yank the hood off her head. The hair at the top of her skull sticks up from static electricity.

It would be adorable if her brows didn’t slash down into a deep vee between her eyes, her lips curled into a sneer.

“I hate you both.” Her eyes cut to me. “And you can take the fucking helmet off dickhead. I know who the fuck you are.”

What’s interesting is that she can tell Ezra and me apart.

Very few people have ever been able to.

Then again, Ezra’s already opened his mouth with his stripper comment, so it makes sense he would be my twin and not me.

It’s impossible not to laugh, not with the concerned expression on Ezra’s face and Blue’s continued tirade.

He stabs a thumb her direction while staring at me.

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