Guilt.

It is swarming in my chest, making me feel so uneasy I don’t say a word the whole way home. Even when we get there, I retreat into my room, refusing to speak to anyone. Eventually, the others go home and Koda and I are the only ones to remain. He leaves me be, which I’m grateful for. I don’t need him to make me feel worse than I already feel right now.

The thought of Ellie being still out there, still being tortured, makes me feel sick.

I could have gotten her out that day, I’m sure there would have been a way if I really tried.

But I didn’t.

Not really.

I was so afraid, and because of me, Slater has lived in agony for over ten years, wondering where she is, wondering if she’s okay, or if she’s even alive still.

Because of me.

I push off my bed when the sun has set and walk into the kitchen, finding a bottle of vodka and opening it, drinking four big mouthfuls before slamming it down on the counter beside me.

“Not goin’ to help you feel better.”

I spin around to see Koda walking in, shirtless and fresh out of the shower.

“Don’t tell me what will, and will not, make me fucking feel better, Dakoda. You don’t know shit.”

His hair is dripping, and the droplets are running down his forehead, and god, he looks gorgeous. I hate that I’m so attracted to him. I hate how pathetic he makes me feel, because he doesn’t feel the same. That only makes me angrier until a tense ball feels like it’s building in my stomach, bubbling up until I’m barely able to contain it.

I’m so angry.

At myself.

At Dakoda.

At my life.

Mostly, at my father.

“Snappin’ at me ain’t goin’ to make it better, either.”

I spin around and pick up the closest thing I can find, which happens to be the bottle of vodka. I don’t think, I just hurtle it across the room, right at him. I’m so angry. So bitterly angry. He ducks just in time and the bottle smashes against the wall, sending glass and vodka everywhere.

“Don’t you fucking tell me what’ll make me feel better,” I scream, so loud I scare myself. “You know nothing about me. Fucking nothing. Stop acting like you give a fuck about me. We both know you don’t. You’re as selfish as the fucking rest of them. Just pussy. Just pussy. That’s what you called me. You piece of crap!”

I go to storm out, but Koda moves fast, like a tiger on the hunt. Suddenly, he’s in front of me, slamming my back against the counter, caging me in with his big body. Both of us are panting, and wild, and angry, and at a breaking point. I want to hurt him. God, I hate him.

Only I don’t.

I fucking don’t.

I slam my fists against his chest, over and over, angry and frustrated. Needing to make him suffer, just a little bit. He grabs my wrists and slams them down by my sides before leaning in close until his breath is puffing against my face.

“Do not tell me how I fuckin’ feel, and do not fuckin’ hit me.”

“Just pussy,” I cry out. “That’s what you called me. That’s what you fucking—”

“You want to know if you matter to me,” he roars so loudly in my face, I’m cut off. My words pausing in my throat. “Is that what you want to fuckin’ know? Well, you do. You matter more to me than any other person has mattered since my brother. I don’t fuckin’ like it. Because I don’t like fuckin’ feelin’. I’m here to do a job, and that job is to stop you gettin’ killed. But the very fuckin’ idea of someone hurtin’ you brings a rage and protection to me that I haven’t felt for a very long time. I feel you on a level I’ve never felt another woman. You make me fuckin’ wild, and I don’t understand why. You make me feel things I’ve not felt, and I don’t understand why. All I know is you get me, you fuckin’ get me in a way nobody else ever has. You see my fuckin’ darkness, and you still want to wrap it up in your hands, like it’s a tiny fuckin’ butterfly you can protect. I’m no fuckin’ good for you, Charlie. But you matter to me. Do not fuckin’ doubt it.”

My knees wobble, and screw everything else. I push my head forward, because he has my arms pinned to my side, and I kiss him. I kiss him with a ferocity that hurts my damned soul. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, hell, he even pulls his head back and growls, “Can’t be doin’ this with you. Fuck. I can’t.”

“Fuck what you can and cannot do. I want it. You want it. Stop fighting me, Dakoda. Because I won’t go away.”

A low growl leaves his throat and he releases my hands, letting my fingers go up to his thick, wet hair, and tangle in the depths. And then he kisses me at the same time he lifts my bottom up and onto the counter top. I spread my legs, letting him step between them, and I kiss him so hard I lose my breath. It’s desperate, and a little angry, and a whole lot frustrated. But it feels like heaven.

Pure heaven.

I release his hair and claw at his chest, running my fingernails down it until I reach his jeans. I fumble with them, needing them gone, needing him inside me, god, something. Anything. I reach into them when they’re undone, curling my fingers around his cock and squeezing. A deep hiss leaves his throat and he steps closer, jerking my night dress up that I got into only an hour ago, and tearing my panties to the side.

Hard.

Deep.

Rough.

Exactly how we both want and need it.

His fingers dig into my ass as he lowers me off the counter and then surprises me by flipping me over so I’m bent over it, chest pressed against the cool wood, ass exposed to him. He runs his fingers down over my ass cheeks and then thrusts one into my pussy from behind. I groan, wiggling, gripping the counter, desperate.

“Fuckin’ drippin’ for me already. Beautiful fuckin’ pussy.”

He steps closer, lining his cock up to my pussy, and then he pushes in. One hard thrust and he’s fully sheathed. I gasp, he growls, and then his fingers dig into my hips as he fucks me. He fucks me so hard items from the bench scatter and smash on the floor as my hands flail around, trying to find something to hold onto as he fucks me into oblivion. I’m screaming, it feels god damned incredible. His skin can be heard slapping against mine, and it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard.

“I’m going to come, oh god,” I scream, throwing my head back and bellowing as an orgasm rips through my body.

Thrust after thrust, he drives me into that counter top, and then, finally, he pulls out with a ragged growl and hot spurts of cum tickle and warm my bottom as he shoots his release all over me. I whimper, my body limp, as I feel the last drops hit my flesh.

After a few seconds, Koda pulls me to my feet and leans in, whispering into my ear, “That was only the beginning. I’m not done with you.”

Oh, boy.

~*~*~*~