Fear You
Page 4

 B.B. Reid

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Keenan’s blood tied him to me and to the danger that followed me. There was no reversing it.
“If that’s what it takes,” I lied. “He’s still out there.”
“Because you chose to save your brother’s life!”
How did she know?
It was dark. Dust was everywhere. Those moments when I couldn’t find her in the dark were the scariest of my life.
No, she couldn’t know.
“You love your brother, Keiran…” She moved closer, making me feel like cornered prey. “…and you love me or else you wouldn’t care.”
Love? Did I love Lake Monroe?
Oh, fuck no.
I couldn’t.
It wasn’t possible.
I shook my head in denial and turned to go.
My back erupted in pain as something hard and round hit and bounced off it. Before I could determine the source, she was on me, pushing with desperate hands. Tears clouded her vision before trailing down her face. I wanted to kiss every single one away. I wanted them gone. I wished I’d never made her cry.
“You don’t just get to walk away.”
She beat on my chest, and though her hits weren’t strong enough to do physical damage, I felt every single one and fuck if it didn’t hurt.
“You don’t get to leave.” All I could do was move back from the onslaught of Lake at her weakest and most vulnerable.
“You can’t,” she whispered out of breath. Her body trembled uncontrollably. I needed to stop her before she hurt herself.
I lowered my lips until they were centered right above hers. I would miss kissing those lips.
“I… don’t… want… you.”
I went too far.
I pushed her away.
Literally.
I had to watch her fall and know I couldn’t do anything to break her fall. The laughter that sounded around us brought forth a murderous rage. I had to leave before I made things worse.
As I turned to go, I spotted Quentin standing nearby, watching silently. I locked eyes with him and silently sent him an order.
Help her.
Chapter Two
Keiran
November
I’m going to wring her fucking neck.
Of course, it probably wasn’t the poor fuck’s fault whose neck I currently had my hands wrapped around. He just happened to be in my line of fire when I grew sick of smelling her, feeling her, and seeing her stupid fucking eyes taunting me in my head when I couldn’t have her.
Fuck.
I squeezed harder.
“Inmate 960, let go of the other inmate, now!” I heard the command loud and clear behind me, but couldn’t care less. They were all scared to come in here so they talked shit behind the safety of the bars. Pussies.
“Come on, young blood, you don’t want to give them a reason to keep you in here. Keep it together,” the gruff voice of a well-respected, older inmate said.
Right, I was locked up again.
Only this time, I wasn’t in juvie.
I was heading to the real deal if this shit stuck.
Prison.
I wouldn’t see the light of day for a very long time, and she could escape me forever.
Funny how that last one made me want to let go. Only I was a second too late as I felt the electric volts pass through my body just as I let go of my cellmate’s neck. My muscles locked up, and all I could do was grunt as I hit the floor, counting the seconds until it was over. It lasted ten seconds but felt more like ten lifetimes. I guess I deserved that. I looked over at the form of my still gasping cellmate as he tried to catch his breath.
My calves where they hit me burned, and I felt a little weak in the knees when I tried to stand. I let out a laugh when I remembered a promise a certain someone made me when I entered here for the first time.
I guess she kept her promise in a roundabout way, and I wondered what made me hard more—thinking about the feeling of her pussy or the fact that she finally fought back.
Dash said my obsession with her was unhealthy. He might be right, but it didn’t mean I had to give a shit. She was mine. But when I saw her face again, I wondered who really owned who. I willed my erection away by thinking of any and everything other than her.
“Somebody get him out of there,” one of the guards ordered. I prepared myself for a fight because the one thing I hated was someone thinking I could be handled. When the guard cautiously bypassed me and grabbed onto Billy, my unfortunate cellmate, I relaxed.
I probably shouldn’t have attacked him for simply admiring a picture but three minutes ago, you couldn’t have told me it wasn’t justified. It was who he was admiring in the picture that set me off. It was the picture of her I swiped the morning after our date.
I don’t know what made me take the picture of her. I just knew I had to have it. I carried it everywhere, always, and didn’t even realize when I’d stopped clinging to Lily’s necklace. She looked happy in the photo, and my gut told me it was taken while I was gone. My throat burned, and my fingers dug into my fists thinking about her being happy. I don’t want her happy… I want her to pay.
Truth is, as much as I really wanted her to pay for making me feel, when the time had come, I couldn’t bring myself to be as ruthless as I was taught. I know some people would think what I’d done was more than evil, but I could and should have done much worse. It was a mistake I made, and I won’t be making it again. This time I wasn’t going to hold back.
Monroe was going to feel me—all the pain, hatred, and anger I was going to give to her, one way or another.