Page 25 of Quiet Rage (Wicked Falls Elite #5)

Kellen

It’s a good thing I’m used to not getting much sleep and still functioning in the morning. Dad has trained me for this. Even if I am practically mainlining caffeine to get through the day just to make it from point A to point B without causing any major accidents.

Only now, it’s not the long hours he used to force on me that makes sleep elusive. It’s what he’s making me do in the daytime.

To think, I once looked at this so-called job as a way to get a little more normalcy in my life. All I had to do was torment one person instead of being up all hours serving as one of his enforcers.

There’s nothing normal about spending hour after hour lying awake, staring at the ceiling but seeing a sweaty, tear-stained face. Face covered in marker. A face full of pain and confusion. I’ve never seen anything so sad in my life.

And my punishment last night was insomnia.

A lesser punishment: constant texts from Tiana. Okay, it was a mistake, putting an arm around her. Letting her have her arm around me. I went with it, though, because I needed to get through Tamson’s skull. There is nothing real between her and me.

It’s a fucking shame I didn’t seem to get the same message.

Here I am, still trailing her. I am nothing better than a stalker, sitting across from the convenience store, watching her work.

She hangs around behind the counter for the most part, reading in between helping customers.

Twirling a strand of hair around her finger and making me wish I could test its softness.

But when she’s ringing up their things, when she smiles and even laughs sometimes, I could almost choke to death on jealousy. In a perfect world, I would be the one making her laugh. I would be the one lucky enough to bask in the warmth of that sunny smile. All I can bring her is pain.

I wanted to be sick when I heard them struggling in the bathroom yesterday. I don’t know how many times I grabbed hold of the handle on the door, ready to throw it open and rescue her.

All it took to keep me on the other side was the memory of a gun in my hand, the cold certainty that Dad might actually kill me if he was capable of having his best friend murdered. I mean, where’s the line after that? He gets what he wants. It doesn’t matter how.

Just like it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that I warned her. That she brought it on herself. It doesn’t make a difference.

She wasn’t at school today. When I drove past her house and her car was gone, I figured she had to be here.

It’s not enough to be this far from her, even if I can see her clearly as she straightens up one of the shelves after a group of kids leave.

She uses her remote control to change what’s playing on the TV mounted near the ceiling across from the register, then settles back down.

If she has the first clue I’m out here, she hasn’t shown it.

I doubt she could pretend for long. She would probably call the cops on me after yesterday, and I wouldn’t completely blame her if she did.

I mean, there’s nothing they could charge me with, they couldn’t even make me leave, but I wouldn’t blame her for trying.

Did she drop out of school? Is that why she wasn’t there?

Or did she need a day off? I hope for both our sakes she finally went through with it and gave up.

There’s no way to win. And I really, truly don’t know if I could go through with another stunt like yesterday. I’m not sure I could live with myself.

It’s hard enough to do it now, living with the memory of those reddened, tear-filled eyes glaring up at me with all the hate in the world. More than pain, more than confusion and betrayal… It was hatred, and I deserved it. This would all be so much easier to live with if I didn’t.

After a while, she stocks a few shelves, handling more customers as they trickle in and out. Once everyone’s gone, she gathers the boxes, stacking them together, then takes them to the back of the store.

I can’t help it. I have to see her. I have to know why she didn’t go to school.

If she finally wised up. Crossing the street, I take the alley running alongside the store that empties into an alley running along the back of the businesses lined up along the block.

The dumpsters are back here, which is where Tamson is standing on tiptoe, tossing the boxes inside.

She’s so involved in what she’s doing, she doesn’t know I’m coming up behind her. This girl seriously needs to heighten her situational awareness.

It’s only when she slams the top of the dumpster and turns around that she realizes I’m here. With a hand over her chest, she gasps before recognition kicks in.

“You!” she snaps, going red. “Why is it always you?”

Fuck, she’s beautiful. Why does she have to be so beautiful? I could spend hours watching her, and I have, but it’s not enough. I only ever want more. “You didn’t come to school today.”

“Yeah, and now you came to rub it in, right?” She jerks her thumb toward the dumpster, smirking. “Are you going to throw me in here next? Might as well. Though what will your excuse be this time?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hello?” Tapping her knuckles against the side of her head, she screws her face up in disbelief. “Are you high? You got what you wanted. I dropped out. So now you don’t have any excuse to ruin my life. You’ve already done it.”

Success doesn’t feel very satisfying. “It was the right move,” I grunt, wrestling with the guilt. I did what needed to be done. It wasn’t my fault.

I don’t think she would understand even if I explained it. I don’t know if I could find the words. It would mean swallowing my pride, too, and I doubt I could do that without choking.

“I’m glad you think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back inside.” A bitter snarl twists her mouth as she storms past me… or tries to.

She doesn’t make it before I take hold of her shoulders. “What are you doing?” she barks when I back her against the wall next to the door, pressing her against the brick.

Instead of telling her, I show her, lowering my head to cover her mouth with mine. She tastes just like I remember. Sweetness, freshness. So totally unlike anything I ever experienced before she shattered my world.

It would all be so much better if she would kiss me back.

Her little hands slap weakly at my chest, and she does her best to get me off her. Instead of soft, pleasured sighs, there’s nothing but angry grunts as she fights me. No matter what I do—tilting my head to deepen the kiss, forcing my tongue between her lips—she doesn’t respond like I need her to.

I am that disgusting to her. She hates me that much.

“Fuck you,” she grits out when I let her up for air. Shoving at my chest, she growls, “Get off me now. I have to go back in. The door is unlocked.”

“Kiss me back,” I whisper, letting my nose touch the top of her head. There’s that scent I’ve missed. I inhale deeply, soaking her in. “Just kiss me, and I’ll let you go back inside.”

“You are sick.” She pulls her head back, twisting my sweater in her tiny fists. I could drown in the cold, endless hatred in her baby blues. “You know that?”

“The clock is ticking, Dragonfly.”

She sneers at me, rolls her eyes…but she also tips her head back, offering me her mouth.

This time, her lips are softer. She parts them for me without resistance. Instead of having to press her against the wall, I let my hands slide down her sides, taking hold of her hips, pulling her against what’s starting to twitch and swell in my jeans.

And instead of grunting in anger, she sighs, even whimpers softly. Her fists loosen before her hands run up to my shoulders, then around to the back of my neck. Her touch is electric, even if I know she doesn’t mean it.

But I can pretend she does. That this is real, that she wants it. That she likes it as much as I do—and I do like it. I’m getting harder with every stroke of my tongue against hers, with every soft sigh she can’t hold back. Her body wants this even if she hates me. For now, that’s enough.

Pulling her bottom lip between mine, I suck it until she groans, then graze it with my teeth before plunging my tongue inside her mouth again. Her fingers twist my hair, tugging, making my body sizzle. Just a little more. A little longer. I need something to get me through the long, empty nights.

But it can’t last forever. Already she’s thinking about the store, pulling back, turning her face away. “That’s enough,” she whispers while I run my lips over her throat. “I mean it. I need to get inside. The register is unattended.”

Like I give a shit, but I’m not going to beg. “Was that so bad?” Pushing away from the wall, I rake my fingers through my hair. My hands are trembling.

“You don’t want to hear the answer to that.” One last filthy look, and she disappears through the door. The squeal of the rusted hinges isn’t as loud as the thumping in my head as blood rushes, boiling hot.

I already know I’ll be jerking off later to the memory of that kiss.

For now, I’ll settle on going back to the truck and watching her until her shift is over.