Page 26 of Cry Madness
See, the thing is, everyone knows for damn sure that Alice is mine. It’s been an unspoken declaration since we were seven. For Brantley to flaunt his proximity to Alice, well… I never liked the prick, and tonight’s as good a night as any to crack his fucking jaw.
“I’m not in the mood to stick my dick in a random,” March remarks, reminding me I asked him a question before I got distracted by Alice and Brantley.
But he’s not looking at me, and when I follow his gaze to Ivory, I understand why he’s down here rather than upstairs. She’s talking among a small group of women, standing headand shoulders above them. He’s been secretly obsessed with her for years, but because she’s Roman’s daughter, he’s kept his distance. When she slides a covert glance at him, her cheeks bloom to a lovely shade of pink, and a ghost of a grin lifts her blood-red lips.
“Would you please fuck that woman already?” I nudge March with my shoulder. “Get it out of your system.”
“Eat shit, asshole,” he snarls. “It’s not like that. Ivory is…different.”
“You don’t want to fuck her?”
“Keep it up, and I’m busting every one of your fucking teeth,” he growls, and at my laughter, he nods at the insipid girls circling us like hungry sharks. “Any of them will gladly ride on your dick, but I don’t see you grabbing one to take upstairs.”
“I’m selective,” I counter, noting Alice has yet to remove her hand from Brantley’s hip.
This won’t do. No, it won’t do, not at all.
Alice is practically begging me to murder the man. Am I aware this is a game? Of course, but one with very real consequences. The maddening woman has the audacity to peek at me from the corner of her eye, and it’s a glance I would have missed if I wasn’t sitting here watching her like a goddamn stalker.
Without a word to March, I push off the loveseat and go to the kitchen for another shot of bourbon. I toss back the amber liquor, relishing the smooth burn as it slides down my throat. I slam the empty plastic cup on the counter. The shot doesn’t do a damn thing to stop my demented brain from fixating on exactly how I’m going to dismember Brantley-fucking-Benson. I take another, the sweet and spicy liquid hitting my stomach like a punch. The glow from the industrial-style chandelier is an annoying glare, with Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” fueling my temper.
The loud din of conversations that swirl around me becomes nothing more than annoying background noise as my entire focus centers on Alice. A passing member of Gamma Kappa Rho stops to talk to me, but I don’t give a shit about what this jerkoff is saying. Not when my entire focus is on that fucking hand Alice still has resting on Benson’s hip.
The little tease.
She’d have never pulled this bullshitbefore.
Beforeshe did her big one when she fled Wonderland.
Beforeshe went radio silence on me for three fucking years.
Alice limped away a shattered shell of a person. Apparently, she returned ballsy.
The carefree girl who once danced with me in the rain to “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star is dead. That person is buried six feet under the dirt alongside her father. In her place is a stranger who won’t let me near her.
Ivory comes up behind Alice to whisper something that finally has her stepping away from Benson. When he moves back, he grabs her arm, but she shakes him off. She swirls to face Ivory, with the movement sweeping her hair across her back. The depraved piece of shit I am, I imagine hauling her upstairs to my room to bend her over the edge of my bed. I want to grab that blonde ponytail and tug her head back to expose her elegant throat. Lift the red-and-black checkered miniskirt and fit her body against mine.
I haven’t forgotten the shape of her lovely ass cradled against my groin or the weight of her splendid B-cups nestled in the palm of my hands. The phantom echo of her soft moans and desperate whimpers as I fucked her has me so damn hard that I need to shift my stance to give the crotch of my jeans a bit more room to accommodate my raging dick.
Alice is nodding at whatever Ivory is saying to her. She wraps her ponytail around her hand and holds it up while she fans herself. She says something back to Ivory, drops her hair, and points to the hallway. Without a backward glance at Brantley, she heads for the bathroom.
With a tug on the fitted vest, I settle the material in place. Then I ensure my top hat sits right on my head as I approach Benson. Leaning a hip against the wall, I fold my arms across my chest, feigning nonchalance. “Hello, Brantley.”
“Hey, Mad, what’s good?”
I tilt my head to slide him a frigid glare. “Not much at the moment.”
His blonde brows knit in a frown as he scans the room nervously—probably searching for backup. “Yeah, why’s that?”
First, I shrug, then I throw my arm around his shoulders. “Seems some people like to fuck around.”
Poor, simple Brantley. He looks confused. “I’m not following.”
Curling my lips under my teeth, I give him a slow nod before saying, “Yeah, you are.” I notice his cowardly friend, Kent, wisely takes a few steps backward. “Care to explain why you were cozying up to Alice?”
Benson tries to duck out from under my arm, but I tighten my hold on him, giving him a hard squeeze and a little jostle. “I wasn’t?—”
“Yeah, you were.” I give his shoulder a little smack for emphasis. “And you knew I was watching.” Before he can answer with some more bullshit, I pretend I’m taken aback as I look at his face. “Holy shit, I never realized you have such nice eyes.”