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And I know it now.
So I don’t need your opinions.
What I do need is Emily’shonestanswer to my question because the bullshit excuse she gave me last night isn’t cutting it.
Unfortunately, now is apparently the worst time for me to demand answers, especially with the fire blazing behind her eyes, the hatred rolling across her expression and the cute as fuck sneer curling her mouth that only makes me regret doing what had to be done.
“You can fuck off with any questions or demands at the moment, Ezra.”
She tries to pull away from me again, but I tighten my hold, those turquoise eyes narrowing on me with enough warning behind them to make my dick twitch.
“Let me go.”
“I will when you tell me what I want to know.”
It probably doesn’t help that I’m mocking her with my grin. But hell, I’ve never been known for calming a situation down. If anything, I’m the guy who pulls chaos and violence out of everyone around him.
When Emily attempts to break free once again, my hand clamps down on her hip, my body moving to pin her down.
She glares up at me, her cheeks painted a sheen of red, her hair a blanket of crimson framing her face.
Pure fire, this girl.
Her temper hidden behind a mask of civility, but she’s just as fierce as me.
It doesn’t mean I suddenly learn my lesson. When you have a shovel as big as mine, you might as well keep digging that hole because you’re already too deep to crawl out.
“Are you keeping it in the family, Em? Already fucked the two brothers, so you wanted to see if Daddy’s cock is just as big?”
My head snaps right from how hard she slaps me, my cheek burning as she takes advantage of my surprise to shove away from my hold and off the bed.
Rounding the end of it, her eyes cut my direction as she grabs her clothes.
“You deserved that. And don’t you ever touch me again.”
Rubbing my cheek to ease the sting, I stretch my jaw. Emily’s never physically hit me before, and I’m a little shocked at how hard she did it.
“And if I do?”
After tugging her shirt on, she shoves the hair out of her face and steps back to place distance between us.
“I’ll gouge out your eyes and then rake my nails down your face. You might as well be as ugly on the outside as you are inside right now, Ezra. What you just did is unforgivable. I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to get a handle on it before you lose everybody who’s ever cared about you.”
Emily yanks up her cotton shorts and marches out of the room, my skin still pulsing from the force of her slap, the blood rising to the surface.
It doesn’t take a genius to know she’s chasing after Damon, but I doubt there’s anything she can say to him at this point to turn this around.
He needed to see what I’ve been trying to tell him, the slap to his face by walking into this room just as hard as the one Emily gave me for the accusation I made about William.
Not that I actually believe that’s what she’s doing. Not Em. Not with as much as she hates our father, but she’s up to something. And I need to know what.
Dropping down onto the mattress, I scrub a hand down my face and stare up at the ceiling.
I don’t feel proud about what I did. Don’t feel good about it. If anything, I hate myself for it. While I’d like to blame the whiskey on most of that decision, I know the truth is I’m bitter as hell.
Maybe Emily is right to call me ugly on the inside. I’m certainly scarred, all my edges jagged and sharp, all my memories bloody.
The fucking ceiling has a small stain on it. The only reason I know that is because I stared up at it all night, a million thoughts crashing through my head about this situation with Emily, with William, with the damn servers Tanner and Gabe are chasing down, but mostly anger for what I was doing.