I hide between the cars in the parking lot, breathing heavily.
If I’d known this is what we’d be returning to, I would’ve voted for skipping classes and staying the whole week with my parents.
But no, Creighton had an important thing to do.
Like today’s match.
Against my brother.
I wince at the reminder of their threatening stares when they jumped into the ring, looking no different than walls of muscle ready to pound each other into oblivion.
And since this happens to be the most awaited final of the current championship, both REU and TKU students are swarming the place, cheering and shouting and thirsting for blood.
Both Jeremy’s and Creighton’s blood.
Yikes.
I stare at my watch and groan when I find it’s been only ten minutes since I kind of escaped from the club.
So no, I wasn’t going to watch them go at each other’s throats. I begged them both to stop this or for one of them to forfeit, but neither of them is a quitter.
Besides, Jeremy said he can’t trust anyone to protect his sister if he can’t beat him. Something that got Creighton even more riled up for the fight.
Men and their testosterone will be the death of me.
So here I am, all alone in hiding, waiting for the ordeal to be done with.
Glyndon was keeping me company because she doesn’t like manifestations of violence either. Despite our objections about attending, we were all dragged by Ava anyway—she’s all for fights and is probably cheering for Creighton at the top of her lungs as we speak.
It took her some time and a few shopping trips for her to actually forgive me for shooting Creighton, and only because she knows how much we mean to each other.
Glyndon was the nicest of the bunch and talked to me soon after I got back to college. And since she’s a sweetheart, she opted to escape with me and was busy showing me her latest paintings. But alas, Killian interrupted us a few minutes ago and kidnapped her to God knows where.
“I still don’t forgive you for making her cry,” is what he told me as he swooped her away.
That psycho is incorrigible. Aside from Creighton, he’s the most territorial.
Actually, Creighton is in a league of his own. Not only is he possessive of me to the point where he’s constantly glaring at Tiger whenever he lies on my chest, but he’s also so consistent about it that no guy comes close to me in fear of his wrath.
Even Harry, who’s gay and has a crush on Creighton and is the leader of his fan club, isn’t safe from his lashes of jealousy.
I lean against my car and opt to roam social media. I pause at the picture I see on Creighton’s account.
He actually used the one Remi and I created for him a long time ago, but he changed the password and everything because Remi was planning to post ‘weird shit’ on his page.
Creighton’s profile picture is the same as his first post. It’s a selfie he took when I wasn’t even aware. I’m asleep in his lap, head tucked in his chest so that my face isn’t visible and only half of his is.
His veiny hand grips me possessively by the waist and the caption says:
My girl. My woman. Mine.
That was during the month we were apart. Exactly a day before he kidnapped me to that island.
How romantic.
Not.
The second picture is another selfie he took after we got back to college. He’s carrying me with a hand beneath my ass, my legs are wrapped around his naked waist, and my head is buried in his shoulder.
Did I mention that she’s all mine?
The third—the one I’m currently looking at that’s making me struggle to breathe—is one he posted just earlier.
Before the fight, I kind of slipped into the locker room for one final attempt to dissuade him from going against Jeremy.
Big mistake.
Not only did he look at me like a hungry predator, but he also oozed with savage adrenaline.
Needless to say, I didn’t stand a chance.
Creighton fucked me senseless against the bench in the pussy and then in the ass while he bit my throat and spanked me.
My core throbs and the welts on my ass sting at the reminder. I should feel demented that I get off on the pain as much as I get off on the pleasure, but I’ve learned to accept that about myself and us.
I’ve learned to own up to what makes us who we are, because I realize just how lucky we are to be so compatible despite having such different personalities.
Like a puzzle, the good and bad parts fit together perfectly.
The picture he posted is from the neck up, when he kissed me soon after we finished. My eyes are closed and his are open as he stares at the camera with chilling possessiveness.
Reminder: She’s mine.
A tingle ripples through me and dances at the base of my spine.
He’s simply impossible.
I still like the picture anyway. What? I’ve got to stake a claim, too. Next time I catch a girl flirting with him, I’m going to forward her to his Instagram account.
That he made for me.
No kidding, the other day, he was like, “Didn’t you say you’d unfollow all the guys if I make an Instagram account? Do it.”
I reminded him that I said he should have social media to follow me, not that he’d cut me off from the world, but he’s not having that.
Anyway, I’m so going to send this to Harry and his ever-growing fan club when he taunts me.
“Can’t you stop this?”
The very familiar voice filters from a few rows ahead. I let my phone slip into my dress pocket and sneak along the cars.
Sure enough, Cecily stands in the shadows, her silver hair flying in the wind as she grips her phone tight.
Oddly, her shirt is a simple black one with no quotes on it.
“You don’t understand. I just can’t do this,” she whispers in a shaky voice and I want to reach out and hug her.
She’s been distressed for a while, and even Glyn expressed her worry about it the other day.
I must make a noise in trying to get close to her, because she faces me with a deer-caught-in-the-headlights gaze before she removes the phone from her ear and hangs up on whoever she was talking with.
“Annika?” Her tone is cold, a little bit wrong, as if it’s not the same Cecily I know. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh, I kind of couldn’t watch my brother and my boyfriend fighting. Especially since they have a grudge.” I air quote the last word.
“Oh, I see.” Her voice softens.
I approach her slowly, scared any sudden movement will make her bolt. “Are you okay, Ces?”
She nods soundlessly.
While Jeremy has been insufferable since he learned Cecily helped Creighton abduct me, I don’t hold a grudge against her.
One, she didn’t know and really thought he only wanted to talk to me before she was thrown out of the plane.
Two, she’s suffered from Jeremy enough as it is. I know how harsh my brother can be, and he’s never really liked Cecily.
It’s mutual, but still.
And sometimes, I catch them looking at each other in a way I can’t put my finger on.
“I’m always here if you want to talk,” I tell her softly. “Even if it’s about Jer.”
A visible tremor goes through her limbs and she stares at me, hard, as if trying to figure out if she should trust me.
I think she decides she can, because she takes a step forward. “Anni, you can’t tell anyone about this.”
“Cross my heart and hope to die.”
She inhales sharply, her eyes darting sideways. “I made a terrible mistake and I don’t know how to undo it.”
It’s the first time I’ve seen her so lost, so scared. Cecily has always been the most confident one, the assertive one, the crash-into-the-problem-head-first one.
But she looks so terribly confused that I want to hug her.
“What is it? Tell me and I might be able to help.”
“It’s—”
Her words are cut off when I feel a presence behind me and then my nostrils fill with his distinctive scent mixed with adrenaline and sweat.
A strong hand wraps around my waist and I shiver as I’m slammed against his side, where his body heat overwhelms mine.
“Hi, Creigh,” my friend murmurs, then slides her dejected attention to me. “I’m going back.”
“Cecily, wait,” I call after her, but she’s already gone.
I glare up at Creighton’s gorgeous face with the thick brows and busted lips, and it’s hard to be mad at him. “Ces was going to tell me something and you screwed it up.”
“Don’t get involved in Cecily’s business when she doesn’t even know what she wants.” He pushes a stray hair that the wind stuffed in my face behind my ear. “Were you hiding, little purple?”
“I didn’t want to see you guys fighting.” I swallow. “Who won?”
“It was a draw.”
“Thank God.” I release a breath.
“We’ll have a rematch next week.”
“Seriously?”
“Next time, don’t hide or I’ll draw it out more.” He flicks my forehead teasingly and I massage the spot, glaring up at him.
“Aww. And I’m so going to hide again.”
“Don’t be a brat.”
“Oh, please, you love it when I’m a brat.”
“Seems the appetizer from earlier didn’t teach you a lesson.”
“That was…just an appetizer?”
“More or less.”
“What’s the main course then?”
“You’ll find out if you’re a good girl.”
My panties soak at the promise in his voice. I love it when he keeps me in the dark about his plans and then I find myself all tied up and fucked to within an inch of my life.
Or when he introduces new toys that I swear are manufactured so he can torture me with them.
“Will you take a picture and post it on IG this time, too?”
“No. They only need to be reminded in another two weeks or so.”
“You’re so over the top, but I still love you,” I whisper. “So much, it’s insane.”
“Good, because I’ll make sure you always love me as much as I love you.”
And then he’s lifting me by the waist and kissing me.
