Page 11 of Dark Knight (Knight's Ridge Empire 10)

“Stop fucking screaming,” I seethe, getting right in her face. “Unless you want all the others out here seeing you looking like a dirty little whore.”

Her breath catches at my vicious words a second before her palm connects with my cheek.

Pain blooms across my skin. It does nothing but feed the fucking devil that lives inside me.

Her chest heaves as she glares at me.

“I hate you,” she hisses through the sobs that are still wracking her body. “I fucking hate you, and I’ll never forgive you for this. Ever.”

A smile curls at my lips.

Those are the words I always thought I needed to hear. The words that might shatter the hold she’s always had over me. But standing here before her, feeling her pulse thunder beneath my fingers, I realise they come nowhere near to severing this thing between us.

If anything, it only makes my obsession, my need to prove her wrong, to fucking own her, even more irrational.

I told myself for years that if I kept a distance between us, it would lessen. I’d find someone else to focus my efforts, my dark, twisted desires on.

But it’s never happened.

Since we were six years old, it’s always been Calli.

And until that night, it was my darkest secret.

One I was willing to take to the grave in order to give her the life she deserves, to allow her to find the kind of man she deserves.

Because that sure as fuck isn’t a screwed-up, cold arsehole like me.

But something snapped in me that night.

Something that I can’t explain even now.

And I still can’t decide if it was the best or worst thing to ever happen in my life.

“Get in the fucking car, Callista.”

“Fuck you,” she spits, slapping me again and making a loud growl rumble deep in my throat.

“You’re playing with fire,” I warn her, two seconds from snapping. And that means I’m either about to strangle the fucking life out of her or take what I should have that night right here against my car for her brother and the rest of the guys to witness.

“Then watch me burn, arsehole.”

Reaching out, I rip open the back door of my car, and, with my hand still around her throat, I grasp her waist with the other and throw her inside.

“You can’t do this,” she screams.

“I thought you knew, beautiful,” I sneer. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“You’re a fucking psycho.”

“I know. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

The smile I give her is full of malice, but beneath it, there’s nothing but desire.

Slamming the door shut, I engage the locks before she has a chance to escape. Then, I quickly unlock just the driver’s door before getting in and flooring the accelerator before anyone sees me leaving with her.

I might be willing to reveal the level of my obsession with the little girl who helped me all those years ago to her, but like fuck will I let anyone else see that I care about anything.