Clash

Page 42

Raising my hand in the air, I slapped it down across her cheek.

“That was for all the other girls you’ve brutalized!” I shouted above her, folding my hand into a fist and bringing it back down. “And that was for Jude.” Her lower lip was split and bleeding, her cheeks dotted red from countless slaps and hits, and her hair looked like a hurricane had just come to town. I couldn’t have looked much better.

“And this is for me,” I said, gulping in a breath and raising my middle finger at her. I smiled down at her, keeping my finger hanging above her face.

Shrieking, she squirmed harder, managing to get a leg free which she promptly bucked right onto my chin.

I flew off the table, landing on the floor at the feet of countless spectators. Adriana leapt off the table, landing on top of me, unleashing a frenzy of hits and grunts. This couldn’t even be classified as a cat fight anymore. In fact, I’m sure once this whole thing went viral on the internet, the WW-something would be calling us to sign wrestling contracts.

“What the hell!” a voice shouted above the chorus of shouts. Before Adriana could land another fist into my face, she was shoved away, landing on her butt-flossed ass a few feet away.

“Luce,” he breathed outside my ear, sounding as scared as I’d ever heard him. “I’ve got you.” Two strong arms looped around me, lifting me gently to his chest. “What the hell were you doing? Are you okay?” he asked, swallowing when he looked down at my face.

“Did I win?” I asked, letting him tuck me closer to him.

Glancing down at Adriana, his eyes narrowed.

“You kicked ass, baby,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting down at me.

The pain started hitting me then, spreading from my head.

“Then I’m all right,” I replied.

Exhaling, Jude shook his head. “Let’s get you out of here, killer,” he said, steering me through the crowd, not caring who or how many people he bulled over.

“You look real pretty!” I shouted down at Adriana as we moved by her. “Slut!” I threw out for good measure.

Wiping her bleeding lip, she sneered up at me. “Even on my worse day, your boyfriend still jerks off to my face when you’re not around.”

This bitch wouldn’t take a hint. Squirming in Jude’s arms, trying to free myself so I could finish what I started, he only held me tighter.

“Ready for round two?” I seethed at her, shoving against Jude’s chest.

“Lucy,” he said, moving through the crowd faster, probably hoping to put more space between Adriana and myself. “Calm down. Take a breath,” he coached, looking into my eyes. One of them felt like it might be swelling shut.

Taking a formidable amount of effort, I did as asked, taking a deep breath and visualizing myself melting into his arms.

“And I thought I was the one with anger issues,” he said, climbing the stairs. “I’m afraid after tonight, you’ve got me beat, Luce.”

The pain was really starting to hit home now, pooling into every nerve ending.

“Anger through osmosis,” I replied, moving my jaw. Yeah, that was going to bruise too.

I regretted the words immediately. His face fell, although he tried to keep his eyes from following.

I couldn’t imagine how to rectify all the wrongs I’d thrown at Jude‌—‌I just seemed to keep adding more to the pile‌—‌so I folded my hand over his heart and let him carry me into his bedroom.

He walked me over to his bed, propping me in front of a mound of pillows.

“God, Luce,” he said, kneeling beside me and examining my face. I didn’t really want to know and I sure as hell wouldn’t be looking in a mirror for the next couple of weeks. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Running my fingers over my face, I winced at almost every place I touched. “I was thinking about giving that bitch a taste of her own medicine,” I said, “my fist doing the dosing.”

He exhaled, running his hand down the side of my neck.

“Don’t worry,” he said as I pulled my hands away to find blood spotting my fingers. “I’ll fix you.” Rising, he lunged across the room. “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing behind the door.

With Jude gone, the pain really started to eat away at me. I’d felt pain, and I wasn’t a huge wuss, but this felt like every nerve had decided to grow a heart that was pounding.

It had felt so good at the time‌—‌giving and taking a beating with Adriana‌—‌but now I was starting to question why I’d done it. I wasn’t regretting it, just questioning it. I’d never been a violent person‌—‌I had a short fuse, sure‌—‌but I’d never let my fists work out an issue I had with someone.

Why had I done it this time?

All the questions led to one answer: Jude.

He hadn’t made me go after Adriana, but my love for him and the pain I’d been caused at Adriana’s hand had been the fuel to my fire. I realized then it wasn’t Jude that was the problem. He wasn’t the reason our relationship was nothing short of explosive. It was me. It was the person I became with Jude beside me.

My anger peaked at new levels, exceeding his, but I didn’t have the self-control to douse that anger before it burned someone.

I couldn’t fix us until I fixed me. And he couldn’t fix me for me. It was a task that was all my own.

It was one I wasn’t sure I could face.

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