Page 12 of Always A Villain

By the time I reach backstage, Rory and Olivia are tangled on the ground. Clawing at each other, ripping hair. My lips twist into a smirk. Watching Rory tear into that bitch is the hottest thing I’ve seen all night.

I force my way past onlookers, ignoring the announcer droning on about the next event.

“I’m going to kill you!” Rory’s scream pierces the air.

“Get off me!” Olivia yells back, both of them thrashing on the concrete. Rory’s straddling her, fists flying, breaking through Olivia’s guard. A crack echoes as Rory’s knuckles slam into her nose.

“Fuck!” Olivia shrieks, blood streaming down her face.

“Rory! Enough!” I grab her around the waist and yank her off. She twists against me, shouting as I drag her away, half-carrying her.

“Rory!” I bark again. No response. She’s seeing red, still screaming at Olivia.

I hoist her up, her legs wrapping around my waist on instinct. Blood stains her face and hands, her cheek swelling, lip split. She’s fucking hurt, and I’m seconds from losing it myself.

“Rory. Baby, look at me.” The word slips out before I realize it, and her eyes snap to mine, filled with surprise. Hell, even I’m surprised. I called herbaby—that’s not me, not how I talk. Her chest heaves, nipples straining against her top as she stares at me.

In the next blink, she’s crashing her mouth into mine, hard and desperate. I taste blood, metallic and hot. She yanks at my hair, and we devour each other like we’re starving. My cock throbs, and I slam her into the wall, grinding my hard-on against her. I swallow her moans as she arches into me, and it’s a fight not to lose control.

“You did amazing, baby,” I murmur, her scent messing with my head. “Fucking amazing.”

She exhales, sagging against my neck. A sudden knot tightens in my gut—protectiveness—and it’s unsettling as hell.

I tilt her chin up. She’s a mess of blood and bruises, but those blue eyes are calmer now. My jaw clenches at the sight of her injuries. Rage floods me all over again.

“You need to go to medical.” I brush the blood off her chin with my thumb. “Get patched up.”

She gives me a small, dazed nod before sliding down my body, her bare skin dragging against my pants. My cock aches, straining with every inch she moves. Fuck. I watch her walk away, eyes locked on that neon brand—my mark—glowing on her ass, streaked with blood. She’s a mess, but I’ve never wanted her more.

As she disappears backstage, my attention snaps back to Olivia, sprawled on the ground, clutching her bloody nose.

My boots hammer the concrete as I close in. Her hand is splayed out like a target. I stomp on it, hard, the crunch of bone and cartilage rattling through me. Olivia screams gutturally, in agony, but I don’t blink.

I kneel, grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her face close. Her sickly-sweet perfume makes me want to gag.

“Nobody makes my wife fucking bleed,” I snarl.

Her eyes widen, terror radiating off her.

“Make no mistake, you pathetic cunt. Your days are numbered. You will die at my hands, so savor every miserable second before I come for you.”

Her tears flow faster, and for a moment, I consider smashing her skull right here. But a scrap of rational thought pulls me back—for now.

Shoving her head down, I leave her broken and sobbing. I turn away without a second glance. The night’s not over, and neither is my rage.

I’ve only called Rory “my wife” one other time. But fuck, the way it felt just now—too good. Too natural. Like it belonged. It shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have said it.

She’s doing something to me. Changing me. And I fucking hate it.

Storming into the med bay, my head’s pounding with one thought. I should be thinking about the arena, about the blood I’m about to spill. The door slams open, ricocheting off the wall. My eyes lock on her instantly.

“Everybody get the fuck out!” My voice ricochets.

The room freezes.

“NOW!”

They scatter like roaches, nurses and doctors scrambling for the door. Even Associates aren’t dumb enough to cross the Reaper.